bs, burst into screams of laughter.

"It's the Don! Mother of Heaven! it is the Don," gurgled Simon.

Well might they laugh, they who had known Adrian in his pride and rich
attire, for before them, crouching against the wall, was a miserable,
bareheaded object, his hair stained with mud and rotten eggs, blood
running from his temple where a stone had caught him, his garments a
mass of filth and dripping water, one boot gone and his hose burst to
tatters. For a while the fugitive bore it, then suddenly, without a
word, he drew the sword that still remained to him and rushed at the
bestial looking Simon, who skipped away round the table.

"Stop laughing," he said, "or I will put this through you. I am a
desperate man."

"You look it," said Simon, but he laughed no more, for the joke had
become risky. "What do you want, Heer Adrian?"

"I want food and lodging for so long as I please to stop here. Don't be
afraid, I have money to pay you."

"I am thinking that you are a dangerous guest," broke in Meg.

"I am," replied Adrian; "but I tell you that I shall be more dangerous
outside. I was not the only one concerned in that matter of the
evidence, and if they get me they will have you too. You understand?"

Meg nodded. She understood perfectly; for those of her trade Leyden was
growing a risky habitation.

"We will accommodate you with our best, Mynheer," she said. "Come
upstairs to the Master's room and put on some of his clothes. They will
fit you well; you are much of the same figure."

Adrian's breath caught in his throat.

"Is he here?" he asked.

"No, but he keeps his room."

"Is he coming back?"

"I suppose so, sometime, as he keeps his room. Do you want to see him?"

"Very much, but you needn't mention it; my business can wait till we
meet. Get my clothes washed and dried as quickly as you can, will you? I
don't care about wearing other men's garments."

A quarter of an hour later Adrian, cleaned and clothed, different
indeed to look on from the torn and hunted fugitive, re-entered the
sitting-room. As he came, clad in Ramiro's suit, Meg nudged her husband
and whispered, "Like, ain't they?"

"Like as two devils in hell," Simon answered critically, then added,
"Your food is ready; come, Mynheer, and eat."

So Adrian ate and drank heartily enough, for the meat and wine were
good, and he needed them. Also it rejoiced him in a dull way to find
that there was something left in which he could take pleas