round to bridges on account of that astrologer."

Brant smiled. "I have no foresight concerning you, good friend, except
that I judge your arm will be always strong in battle; that you will
love your masters well, and use your might to avenge the cause of God's
slaughtered saints upon their murderers."

Martin nodded his head vigorously, and fumbled at the handle of the
sword Silence, while Brant went on:

"Friend, you have entered on a dangerous quarrel on behalf of me and
mine, and if you live through it you will have earned high pay."

Then he went to the table, and, taking writing materials, he wrote as
follows: "To the Heer Dirk van Goorl and his heirs, the executors of my
will, and the holders of my fortune, which is to be used as God shall
show them. This is to certify that in payment of this night's work
Martin, called the Red, the servant of the said Dirk van Goorl, or
those heirs whom he may appoint, is entitled to a sum of five thousand
florins, and I constitute such sum a first charge upon my estate, to
whatever purpose they may put it in their discretion." This document he
dated, signed, and caused the pilot Hans to sign also as a witness.
Then he gave it to Martin, who thanked him by touching his forehead,
remarking at the same time--

"After all, fighting is not a bad trade if you only stick to it long
enough. Five thousand florins! I never thought to earn so much."

"You haven't got it yet," interrupted Foy. "And now, what are you going
to do with that paper?"

Martin reflected. "Coat?" he said, "no, a man takes off his coat if it
is hot, and it might be left behind. Boots?--no, that would wear it
out, especially if they got wet. Jersey?--sewn next the skin, no, same
reason. Ah! I have it," and, drawing out the great sword Silence, he
took the point of his knife and began to turn a little silver screw in
the hilt, one of many with which the handle of walrus ivory was fastened
to its steel core. The screw came out, and he touched a spring, whereon
one quarter of the ivory casing fell away, revealing a considerable
hollow in the hilt, for, although Martin grasped it with one hand, the
sword was made to be held by two.

"What is that hole for?" asked Foy.

"The executioner's drug," replied Martin, "which makes a man happy
while he does his business with him, that is, if he can pay the fee. He
offered his dose to me, I remember, before--" Here Martin stopped, and,
having rolled up the parchment, h