a mock marriage, and
who was the father of Adrian. The idea of making the heiress his wife
was one worthy of his evil ingenuity, and why should he not put it into
practice? Elsa, of course, would rebel, but Alva's officials in such
days had means of overcoming any maidenly reluctance, or at least of
forcing women to choose between death and degradation. Was it not common
for them even to dissolve marriages in order to give heretics to new
husbands who desired their wealth? There was no justice left in the
land; human beings were the chattels and slaves of their oppressors. Oh
God! what was there to do, except to trust in God? Why should they
be tortured, murdered, married against their wills, for the sake of a
miserable pile of pelf? Why not tell the truth and let the fellow take
the money? He had measured up his man, and believed that he could drive
a bargain with him. Ramiro wanted money, not lives. He was no fanatic;
horrors gave him no pleasure; he cared nothing about his victims' souls.
As he had betrayed his mother, Lysbeth, for cash, so he would be willing
to let them all go for cash. Why not make the exchange?

Then distinct, formidable, overwhelming, the answer rose up in Foy's
mind. Because he had sworn to his father that nothing which could be
imagined should induce him to reveal this secret and betray this trust.
And not only to his father, to Hendrik Brant also, who already had given
his own life to keep his treasure out of the hands of the Spaniards,
believing that in some unforeseen way it would advantage his own land
and countrymen. No, great as was the temptation, he must keep the letter
of his bond and pay its dreadful price. So again Foy answered,

"It is useless to try to bribe me, for I do not know where the money
is."

"Very well, Heer Foy van Goorl, now we have a plain issue before us,
but I will still try to protect you against yourself--the warrant shall
remain blank for a little while."

Then he called aloud, "Sergeant, ask the Professor Baptiste to be so
good as to step this way."

CHAPTER XXI

HOW MARTIN TURNED COWARD

The sergeant left the room and presently returned, followed by the
Professor, a tall hang-dog looking rogue, clad in rusty black, with
broad, horny hands, and nails bitten down to the quick.

"Good morning to you, Professor," said Ramiro. "Here are two subjects
for your gentle art. You will begin upon the big one, and from time to
time report progress, and be sur