bout him at The Hague, and who plotted day and night to rob him of his
wealth.

At first sight there was no great resemblance between the pair. How
could there be indeed between a man on the wrong side of middle age,
one-eyed, grizzled, battered, and bearing about with him an atmosphere
of iniquity, and a young gentleman, handsome, distinguished, and
wayward, but assuredly no criminal? Yet the likeness existed. She
had seen it first when Adrian was pointing out to her how, were he a
general, he would dispose his forces for the capture of Leyden, and from
that moment her nature rose in arms against him. Also it came out in
other ways, in little tricks of voice and pomposities of manner which
Elsa caught at unexpected moments, perhaps, as she told herself, because
she had trained her mind to seek these similarities. Yet all the while
she knew that the fancy was ridiculous, for what could these two men
have in common with each other?

In those days, however, Elsa did not think much of Adrian, or of anybody
except her beloved father, whose only child she was, and whom she adored
with all the passion of her heart. She knew the terrible danger in which
he stood, and guessed that she had been sent away that she should not
share his perils. Now she had but one desire and one prayer--that he
might escape in safety, and that she might return to him again. Once
only a message came from him, sent through a woman she had never seen,
the wife of a fisherman, who delivered it by word of mouth. This was the
message:

"Give my love and blessing to my daughter Elsa, and tell her that so far
I am unharmed. To Foy van Goorl say, I have heard the news. Well done,
thou good and faithful servant! Let him remember what I told him, and be
sure that he will not strive in vain, and that he shall not lack for his
reward here or hereafter."

That was all. Tidings reached them that the destruction of so many men
by the blowing up of the _Swallow_, and by her sinking of the Government
boat as she escaped, had caused much excitement and fury among the
Spaniards. But, as those who had been blown up were free-lances, and as
the boat was sunk while the _Swallow_ was flying from them, nothing had
been done in the matter. Indeed, nothing could be done, for it was not
known who manned the _Swallow_, and, as Ramiro had foreseen, her crew
were supposed to have been destroyed with her in the Haarlemer Meer.

Then, after a while, came other news that fille