en the rascally mob made them an escort
five hundred strong as they went down the street? No, they are far away
from Leyden now, you may swear to that. I must be going, but if there
is anything you'd like while you're here just tell me, and as you are so
liberal I'll try and see that you get what you want."

As the bolts were shot home behind the man Dirk clasped his hands and
almost laughed aloud with joy. So Martin was free and Foy was free,
and until they could be taken again the secret of the treasure remained
safe. Montalvo would never have it, of that he was sure. And as for his
own fate? Well, he cared little about it, especially as the Inquisitor
had decreed that, being a man of so much importance, he was not to be
put to the "question." This order, however, was prompted, not by mercy,
but by discretion, since the fellow knew that, like other of the Holland
towns, Leyden was on the verge of open revolt, and feared lest, should
it leak out that one of the wealthiest and most respected of its
burghers was actually being tormented for his faith's sake, the populace
might step over the boundary line.

When Adrian had seen the wounded Spanish soldiers and their bearers
torn to pieces by the rabble, and had heard the great door of the
Gevangenhuis close upon Foy and Martin, he turned to go home with his
evil news. But for a long while the mob would not go home, and had it
not been that the drawbridge over the moat in front of the prison was
up, and that they had no means of crossing it, probably they would have
attacked the building then and there. Presently, however, rain began to
fall and they melted away, wondering, not too happily, whether, in
that time of daily slaughter, the Duke of Alva would think a few common
soldiers worth while making a stir about.

Adrian entered the upper room to tell his tidings, since they must
be told, and found it occupied by his mother alone. She was sitting
straight upright in her chair, her hands resting upon her knees, staring
out of the window with a face like marble.

"I cannot find him," he began, "but Foy and Martin are taken after a
great fight in which Foy was wounded. They are in the Gevangenhuis."

"I know all," interrupted Lysbeth in a cold, heavy voice. "My husband is
taken also. Someone must have betrayed them. May God reward him! Leave
me, Adrian."

Then Adrian turned and crept away to his own chamber, his heart so full
of remorse and shame that at times he t