"

"Who?" gasped Lysbeth, springing from her chair.

"Your son Foy and Red Martin," and she told the tale of how the naked
man with the naked sword, carrying the wounded Foy upon his back, burst
his way roaring from the Gevangenhuis, and, protected by the people,
had run through the town and out of the Morsch poort, heading for the
Haarlemer Meer.

As she listened Lysbeth's eyes flamed up with a fire of pride.

"Oh! good and faithful servant," she murmured, "you have saved my son,
but alas! your master you could not save."

Another hour passed, and the woman appeared again bearing a letter.

"Who brought this?" she asked.

"A Spanish soldier, mistress."

Then she cut the silk and read it. It was unsigned, and ran:--

"One in authority sends greetings to the Vrouw van Goorl. If the Vrouw
van Goorl would save the life of the man who is dearest to her, she is
prayed to veil herself and follow the bearer of this letter. For her own
safety she need have no fear; it is assured hereby."

Lysbeth thought awhile. This might be a trick; very probably it was
a trick to take her. Well, if so, what did it matter since she would
rather die with her husband than live on without him; moreover, why
should she turn aside from death, she in whose veins the plague was
burning? But there was another thing worse than that. She could guess
who had penned this letter; it even seemed to her, after all these many
years, that she recognised the writing, disguised though it was. Could
she face him! Well, why not--for Dirk's sake?

And if she refused and Dirk was done to death, would she not reproach
herself, if she lived to remember it, because she had left a stone
unturned?

"Give me my cloak and veil," she said to the woman, "and now go tell the
man that I am coming."

At the door she found the soldier, who saluted her, and said
respectfully, "Follow me, lady, but at a little distance."

So they started, and through side streets Lysbeth was led to a back
entrance of the Gevangenhuis, which opened and closed behind her
mysteriously, leaving her wondering whether she would ever pass that
gate again. Within a man was waiting--she did not even notice what kind
of man--who also said, "Follow me, lady," and led her through gloomy
passages and various doors into a little empty chamber furnished with a
table and two chairs. Presently the door opened and shut; then her whole
being shrank and sickened as though beneath the breath of p