ult. Martin, get
ready the big boat."

Two nights had gone by, and it was an hour or more past noon on the
third day, the day of Elsa's forced marriage. The snow had ceased
falling and the rain had come instead, rain, pitiless, bitter and
continual. Hidden in a nook at the north end of the Haarlemer Meer and
almost buried beneath bundles of reeds, partly as a protection from the
weather and partly to escape the eyes of Spaniards, of whom companies
were gathering from every direction to besiege Haarlem, lay the big
boat. In it were Red Martin and Foy van Goorl. Mother Martha was
not there for she had gone alone to an inn at a distance, to gather
information if she could. To hundreds of the boers in these parts she
was a known and trusted friend, although many of them might not choose
to recognise her openly, and from among them, unless, indeed, she had
been taken right away to Flanders, or even to Spain, she hoped to gather
tidings of Elsa's whereabouts.

For two weary nights and days the Mare had been employed thus, but as
yet without a shadow of success. Foy and Martin sat in the boat staring
at each other gloomily; indeed Foy's face was piteous to see.

"What are you thinking of, master?" asked Martin presently.

"I am thinking," he answered, "that even if we find her now it will be
too late; whatever was to be done, murder or marriage, will be done."

"Time to trouble about that when we have found her," said Martin, for he
knew not what else to say, and added, "listen, I hear footsteps."

Foy drew apart two of the bundles of reeds and looked out into the
driving rain.

"All right," he said, "it is Martha and a man."

Martin let his hand fall from the hilt of the sword Silence, for in
those days hand and sword must be near together. Another minute and
Martha and her companion were in the boat.

"Who is this man?" asked Foy.

"He is a friend of mine named Marsh Jan."

"Have you news?"

"Yes, at least Marsh Jan has."

"Speak, and be swift," said Foy, turning on the man fiercely.

"Am I safe from vengeance?" asked Marsh Jan, who was a good fellow
enough although he had drifted into evil company, looking doubtfully at
Foy and Martin.

"Have I not said so," answered Martha, "and does the Mare break her
word?"

Then Marsh Jan told his tale: How he was one of the party that two
nights before had rowed Elsa, or at least a young woman who answered to
her description, to the Red Mill, not far from Velze