know."

"True, wife, true," broke in Dirk, "though I wish we could; we should be
lighter-hearted so," and he looked at her and sighed.

Lysbeth van Goorl could no longer boast the beauty which was hers when
first we met her, but she was still a sweet and graceful woman, her
figure remaining almost as slim as it had been in girlhood. The grey
eyes also retained their depth and fire, only the face was worn, though
more by care and the burden of memories than with years. The lot of the
loving wife and mother was hard indeed when Philip the King ruled in
Spain and Alva was his prophet in the Netherlands.

"Is it done?" she asked.

"Yes, wife, our brethren are now saints in Paradise, therefore rejoice."

"It is very wrong," she answered with a sob, "but I cannot. Oh!" she
added with a sudden blaze of indignation, "if He is just and good, why
does God suffer His servants to be killed thus?"

"Perhaps our grandchildren will be able to answer that question,"
replied Dirk.

"That poor Vrouw Jansen," broke in Lysbeth, "just married, and so young
and pretty. I wonder what will become of her."

Dirk and Foy looked at each other, and Martin, who was hovering about
near the door, slunk back guiltily into the passage as though _he_ had
attempted to injure the Vrouw Jansen.

"To-morrow we will look to it, wife. And now let us eat, for we are
faint with hunger."

Ten minutes later they were seated at their meal. The reader may
remember the room; it was that wherein Montalvo, ex-count and captain,
made the speech which charmed all hearers on the night when he had lost
the race at the ice-carnival. The same chandelier hung above them, some
portion of the same plate, even, repurchased by Dirk, was on the table,
but how different were the company and the feast! Aunt Clara, the
fatuous, was long dead, and with her many of the companions of that
occasion, some naturally, some by the hand of the executioner, while
others had fled the land. Pieter van de Werff still lived, however, and
though regarded with suspicion by the authorities, was a man of weight
and honour in the town, but to-night he was not present there. The food,
too, if ample was plain, not on account of the poverty of the household,
for Dirk had prospered in his worldly affairs, being hard-working and
skilful, and the head of the brass foundry to which in those early days
he was apprenticed, but because in such times people thought little
of the refinements of eatin