t to besiege Haarlem with a great
army, and then the Mere will be no longer safe for us, and I shall leave
it to fight with the Haarlem folk."

"And Foy and Martin will return?"

"I think so, if they are not stopped."

"Stopped?"--and she put her hand upon her heart.

"The times are rough, Jufvrouw Elsa. Who that breathes the air one
morning can know what breath will pass his nostrils at the nightfall?
The times are rough, and Death is king of them. The hoard of Hendrik
Brant is not forgotten, nor those who have its key. Ramiro slipped
through my hands to-night, and doubtless by now is far away from Leyden
seeking the treasure."

"The treasure! Oh! that thrice accursed treasure!" broke in Elsa,
shivering as though beneath an icy wind; "would that we were rid of it."

"That you cannot be until it is appointed, for is this not the heritage
which your father died to save? Listen. Do you know, lady, where it lies
hid?" and she dropped her voice to a whisper.

Elsa shook her head, saying:

"I neither know nor wish to know."

"Still it is best that you should be told, for we three who have the
secret may be killed, every one of us--no, not the place, but where to
seek a clue to the place."

Elsa looked at her questioningly, and Martha, leaning forward, whispered
in her ear:

"_It lies in the hilt of the Sword Silence_. If Red Martin should
be taken or killed, seek out his sword and open the hilt. Do you
understand?"

Elsa nodded and answered, "But if aught happens to Martin the sword may
be lost."

Martha shrugged her shoulders. "Then the treasure will be lost also,
that is if I am gone. It is as God wills; but at least in name you are
the heiress, and you should know where to find its secret, which may
serve you or your country in good stead in time to come. I give you no
paper, I tell you only where to seek a paper, and now I must be gone to
reach the borders of the Mere by daybreak. Have you any message for your
love, lady?"

"I would write a word, if you can wait. They will bring you food."

"Good; write on and I will eat. Love for the young and meat for the old,
and for both let God be thanked."

CHAPTER XXV

THE RED MILL

After a week's experience of that delectable dwelling and its
neighbourhood, Adrian began to grow weary of the Red Mill. Nine or
ten Dutch miles to the nor'west of Haarlem is a place called Velsen,
situated on the borders of the sand-dunes, to the south of what is
known to