ourtyard
to the walled-in stables, and up a ladder to the room where the serving
man slept. It was a queer place, and filled with an extraordinary
collection of odds and ends; the skins of birds, otters, and wolves;
weapons of different makes, notably a very large two-handed sword, plain
and old-fashioned, but of excellent steel; bits of harness and other
things.

There was no bed in this room for the reason that Martin disdained a
bed, a few skins upon the floor being all that he needed to lie on.
Nor did he ask for much covering, since so hardy was he by nature, that
except in the very bitterest weather his woollen vest was enough for
him. Indeed, he had been known to sleep out in it when the frost was so
sharp that he rose with his hair and beard covered with icicles.

Martin shut the door and lit three lanterns, which he hung to hooks upon
the wall.

"Are you ready for a turn, master?" he asked.

Foy nodded as he answered, "I want to get the taste of it all out of
my mouth, so don't spare me. Lay on till I get angry, it will make me
forget," and taking a leathern jerkin off a peg he pulled it over his
head.

"Forget what, master?"

"Oh! the prayings and the burnings and Vrouw Jansen, and Adrian's
sea-lawyer sort of talk."

"Ah, yes, that's the worst of them all for us," and the big man leapt
forward and whispered. "Keep an eye on him, Master Foy."

"What do you mean?" asked Foy sharply and flushing.

"What I say."

"You forget; you are talking of my brother, my own mother's son. I
will hear no harm of Adrian; his ways are different to ours, but he is
good-hearted at bottom. Do you understand me, Martin?"

"But not your father's son, master. It's the sire sets the strain; I
have bred horses, and I know."

Foy looked at him and hesitated.

"No," said Martin, answering the question in his eyes. "I have nothing
against him, but he always sees the other side, and that's bad. Also he
is Spanish----"

"And you don't like Spaniards," broke in Foy. "Martin, you are a
pig-headed, prejudiced, unjust jackass."

Martin smiled. "No, master, I don't like Spaniards, nor will you before
you have done with them. But then it is only fair as they don't like
me."

"I say, Martin," said Foy, following a new line of thought, "how did you
manage that business so quietly, and why didn't you let me do my share?"

"Because you'd have made a noise, master, and we didn't want the watch
on us; also, being fulled armed, th