Beresteyn and Stoutenburg said nothing for a while. They looked silently on one another, the same burning anxiety glowing in their eyes, the same glance of mute despair passing from one to the other. "Gilda!" murmured Stoutenburg at last. The swish of the woman's skirt had died away in the distance; not one of the men had attempted to follow her or to intercept her passage. Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn, no spy of course, just a chance eavesdropper! but possessed nevertheless now of a secret which meant death to them all! "How much did she hear think you?" asked Stoutenburg at last. He had replaced his sword in his scabbard with a gesture that expressed his own sense of fatality. He could not use his sword against a woman--even had that woman not been Gilda Beresteyn. "She cannot have heard much," said one of the others, "we spoke in whispers." "If she had heard anything she would have known that only the west door was to remain open. Yet she has made straight for the north portal," suggested another. "If she did not hear the verger speaking she could not have heard what we said," argued a third somewhat lamely. Every one of them had some suggestion to put forward, some surmise to express, some hope to urge. Only Beresteyn said nothing. He had stood by, fierce and silent ever since he had first recognized his sister; beneath his lowering brows the resolve had not died out of his eyes, and he still held his sword unsheathed in his hand. Stoutenburg now appealed directly to him. "What do you think of it, Beresteyn?" he asked. "I think that my sister did hear something of our conversation," he answered quietly. "Great God!" ejaculated the others. "But," added Beresteyn slowly, "I pledge you mine oath that she will not betray us." "How will you make sure of that?" retorted Stoutenburg, not without a sneer. "That is mine affair." "And ours too. We can do nothing, decide on nothing until we are sure." "Then I pray you wait for me here," concluded Beresteyn. "I will bring you a surety before we part this night." "Let me go and speak to her," urged Stoutenburg. "No, no, 'tis best that I should go." Stoutenburg made a movement as if he would detain him, then seemed to think better of it, and finally let him go. Beresteyn did not wait for further comment from his friends but quickly turned on his heel. The next moment he was speeding away across the vast edifice and his tall figure was soon swallowed up by the gloom. CHAPTER V BROTHER AND SISTER The verger on guard at the west door had quietly dropped to sleep. He did not wake apparently when Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn slipped past him and out through the door. Beresteyn followed close on his sister's heels. He touched her shoulder just as she stood outside the portal, wrapping her fur cloak more snugly over her shoulders and looking round her, anxious where to find her servants. "'Tis late for you to be out this night, Gilda," he said, "and alone."