hting several men at once, but when that wretch with the
big hands and the flat face caught hold of me I nearly died of fright.
At the best of times I am a dreadful coward, and--no, I thank you,
Senor, I can stand now and alone. See, here comes the Heer van
Broekhoven under whose escort I am travelling, and look, he is bleeding.
Oh! worthy friend, are you hurt?"

"Not much, Elsa," gasped the Heer, for he was still breathless with
fright and exhaustion, "but that ruffian--may the hangman have him--gave
me a dig in the shoulder with his knife as he rose to run. However,"
he added with satisfaction, "he got nothing from me, for I am an old
traveller, and he never thought to look in my hat."

"I wonder why they attacked us," said Elsa.

The Heer van Broekhoven rubbed his head thoughtfully. "To rob us, I
suppose, for I heard the woman say, 'Here they are; look for the letter
on the girl, Butcher.'"

As he spoke Elsa's face turned grave, and Adrian saw her glance at the
animal she had been riding and slip her arm through its rein.

"Worthy sir," went on Van Broekhoven, "tell us whom we have to thank."

"I am Adrian, called Van Goorl," Adrian replied with dignity.

"Van Goorl!" said the Heer. "Well, this is strange; Providence could not
have arranged it better. Listen, wife," he went on, addressing the stout
lady, who all this while had sat still upon the horse, so alarmed and
bewildered that she could not speak, "here is a son of Dirk van Goorl,
to whom we are charged to deliver Elsa."

"Indeed," answered the good woman, recovering herself somewhat, "I
thought from the look of him that he was a Spanish nobleman. But whoever
he is I am sure that we are all very much obliged to him, and if he
could show us the way out of this dreadful wood, which doubtless is full
of robbers, to the house of our kinsfolk, the Broekhovens of Leyden, I
should be still more grateful."

"Madam, you have only to accept my escort, and I assure you that you
need fear no more robbers. Might I in turn ask this lady's name?"

"Certainly, young sir, she is Elsa Brant, the only child of Hendrik
Brant, the famous goldsmith of The Hague, but doubtless now that you
know her name you know all that also, for she must be some kind of
cousin to you. Husband, help Elsa on to her mule."

"Let that be my duty," said Adrian, and, springing forward, he lifted
Elsa to the saddle gracefully enough. Then, taking her mule by the
bridle, he walked onwards throu