om each other. Foy could see, however, that they were for
the most part folk of bad character, disreputable women, soldiers of the
garrison, half-drunk sailors from every country, and gliding in and out
among them all, priests and other observers of events. Before they had
been long in the crowd a man stumbled against Foy rudely, at the same
time telling him to get out of the path. But although his blood leapt at
the insult and his hand went to his sword hilt, Foy took no notice, for
he understood at once that it was sought to involve him in a quarrel.
Next a woman accosted him, a gaily-dressed woman, but she had no bow
upon her shoulder, so Foy merely shook his head and smiled. For the rest
of that walk, however, he was aware that this woman was watching him,
and with her a man whose figure he could not distinguish, for he was
wrapped in a black cloak.

Thrice did Foy, followed by Martin, thus promenade the right side of the
Broad Street, till he was heartily weary of the game indeed, and began
to wonder if his cousin Brant's plans had not miscarried.

As he turned for the fourth time his doubts were answered, for he found
himself face to face with a small woman who wore upon her shoulder a
large red bow, and was followed by another woman, a buxom person dressed
in a peasant's cap. The lady with the red bow, making pretence to
stumble, precipitated herself with an affected scream right into
his arms, and as he caught her, whispered, "Are you from Leyden,
sweetheart?" "Yes." "Then treat me as I treat you, and follow always
where I lead. First make pretence to be rid of me."

As she finished whispering Foy heard a warning stamp from Martin,
followed by the footsteps of the pair who he knew were watching them,
which he could distinguish easily, for here at the end of the street
there were fewer people. So he began to act as best he could--it was not
very well, but his awkwardness gave him a certain air of sincerity.

"No, no," he said, "why should I pay for your supper? Come, be going, my
good girl, and leave me and my servant to see the town in peace."

"Oh! Mynheer, let me be your guide, I beg you," answered she of the red
bow clasping her hands and looking up into his face. Just then he heard
the first woman who had accosted him speaking to her companion in a loud
voice.

"Look," she said, "Red Bow is trying her best. Ah! my dear, do you think
that you'll get a supper out of a holy Leyden ranter, or a skin off an