over his
persistently smiling face.

"So well informed, sir," rejoined the latter after a slight pause, and
speaking more seriously than he had done hitherto, "so well informed
that I marvel you do not know that by the terms of that same contract I
pledged my word to convey the jongejuffrouw safely to a certain spot and
with all possible speed, but that further actions on my part were to
remain for mine own guidance. I also pledged my word of honour that I
would remain silent about all these matters."

"Bah!" broke in Stoutenburg roughly, "knaves like you have no honour to
pledge."

"No doubt, sir, you are the best judge of what a knave would do."

"Insolent ... do you dare...?"

"If you like it better, sir, I'll say that I have parleyed long enough
with you to suit my temper. This room is mine," he added, speaking every
whit as haughtily as did the other man. "I have business with this
wench, and came here, desirous to speak with her alone, so I pray you
go! this roof is too lowly to shelter the Lord of Stoutenburg."

At mention of his name Stoutenburg's sunken cheeks took on the colour of
lead, and with a swift, instinctive gesture, his hand flew to the hilt
of the dagger under his doublet. During this hot and brief quarrel with
this man, the thought had never entered his mind that his identity might
be known to his antagonist, that he--a fugitive from justice and with a
heavy price still upon his head--was even now at the mercy of this
contemptible adventurer whom he had learnt to hate as he had never hated
a single human soul before now.

Prudence, however, was quick enough to warn him not to betray himself
completely. The knave obviously suspected his identity--how he did that,
Stoutenburg could not conjecture, but after all he might only have drawn
a bow at a venture: it was important above all not to let him see that
that bow had struck home. Therefore after the first instant of terror
and surprise he resumed as best he could his former haughty attitude,
and said with well-feigned carelessness:

"The Lord of Stoutenburg? Do you expect his visit then? What have you to
do with him? 'Tis dangerous, you know, to court his friendship just
now."

"I do not court his friendship, sir," replied Diogenes with his gently
ironical smile; "the Lord of Stoutenburg hath many enemies these days;
and, methinks, that if it came to a question of hanging he would stand
at least as good a chance of the gallows as I."

"N