y side. And as he lied then, so will he lie to you, little brother, he
will steal your allegiance, use you for his own ends and cast you
ruthlessly from him if he find you no longer useful. Yes, I did love him
once," she continued earnestly, "when he thought of staining his hands
with murder my love finally turned to contempt. This new infamy which he
plots hath filled the measure of my hate. Turn from him, little brother,
I do entreat you with my whole soul. He has been false to his God, false
to his prince, false to me! he will be false to you!"

"It is too late, Gilda," he retorted sombrely, "even if I were so
minded, which please God! I am not."

"It is never too late to draw back from such an abyss of shame."

"Be silent, girl," he said more roughly, angered that he was making no
headway against her obstinacy. "God-verdomme! but I am a fool indeed to
stand and parley here with you, when grave affairs wait upon my time.
You talk at random and of things you do not understand: I had no mind to
argue this matter out with you."

"I do not detain you, Nicolaes," she said simply, with a sigh of bitter
disappointment. "If you will but call Maria and the men who wait at the
north door, I can easily relieve you of my presence."

"Yes, and you can go home to your pots and pans, to your sewing and your
linen-chest, and remember to hold your tongue, as a woman should do, for
if you breathe of what you have heard, if you betray Stoutenburg who is
my friend, it is me--your only brother--whom you will be sending to the
scaffold."

"I would not betray you, Nicolaes," she said.

"Or any of my friends?"

"Or any of your friends."

"You swear it?" he urged.

"There is no need for an oath."

"Yes, there is a pressing need for an oath, Gilda," he retorted sternly.
"My friends expect it of you, and you must pledge yourself to them, to
forget all that you heard to-night and never to breathe of it to any
living soul."

"I cannot swear," she replied, "to forget that which my memory will
retain in spite of my will: nor would I wish to forget, because I mean
to exert all the power I possess to dissuade you from this abominable
crime, and because I mean to pray to God with all my might that He may
prevent the crime from being committed."

"You may pray as much as you like," he said roughly, "but I'll not have
you breathe a word of it to any living soul."

"My father has the right to know of the disgrace that threatens him."