the other Friesland business came up against me, and
the magistrates here had money on the Spaniard. Then your dear father
saved me. He was burgomaster of that year, and he paid the death fine
for me--a large sum--afterwards, too, he taught me to be sober and think
of my soul. So you know why Red Martin will serve him and his while
there is a drop of blood left in his worthless carcase. And now, Master
Foy, I'm going to sleep, and God grant that those dirty Spanish dogs
mayn't haunt me."

"Don't you fear for that, Martin," said Foy as he took his departure,
"_absolvo te_ for those Spaniards. Through your strength God smote them
who were not ashamed to rob and insult a poor new widowed woman after
helping to murder her husband. Yes, Martin, you may enter that on the
right side of the ledger--for a change--for they won't haunt you at
night. I'm more afraid lest the business should be traced home to us,
but I don't think it likely since the street was quite empty."

"Quite empty," echoed Martin nodding his head. "Nobody saw me except the
two soldiers and Vrouw Jansen. They can't tell, and I'm sure that she
won't. Good-night, my young master."

CHAPTER X

ADRIAN GOES OUT HAWKING

In a house down a back street not very far from the Leyden prison, a man
and a woman sat at breakfast on the morning following the burning of the
Heer Jansen and his fellow martyr. These also we have met before, for
they were none other than the estimable Black Meg and her companion,
named the Butcher. Time, which had left them both strong and active, had
not, it must be admitted, improved their personal appearance. Black Meg,
indeed, was much as she had always been, except that her hair was now
grey and her features, which seemed to be covered with yellow parchment,
had become sharp and haglike, though her dark eyes still burned with
their ancient fire. The man, Hague Simon, or the Butcher, scoundrel by
nature and spy and thief by trade, one of the evil spawn of an age of
violence and cruelty, boasted a face and form that became his reputation
well. His countenance was villainous, very fat and flabby, with small,
pig-like eyes, and framed, as it were, in a fringe of sandy-coloured
whiskers, running from the throat to the temple, where they faded away
into a great expanse of utterly bald head. The figure beneath was heavy,
pot-haunched, and supported upon a pair of bowed but sturdy legs.

But if they were no longer young, and such good l