man still eyed
him with suspicion, "if you would cease to deny that you are Ben Isaje,
jeweller of Rotterdam. I have here some papers which I must deliver into
the said Ben Isaje's own hands: they are writ by Mynheer Nicolaes
Beresteyn of Haarlem and do explain the purport of my visit here."

"From Nicolaes Beresteyn," quoth the other with an obvious sigh of
relief. "Why did you not name him before, sir? I am always at Mynheer
Nicolaes Beresteyn's commands. Indeed my name is Ben Isaje. An you have
cause to doubt it, sir...."

"Dondersteen! but I never did doubt it, man, from the moment I saw the
end of your hooked nose through the aperture of your door. So no more
talk now, I pray you. Time is getting on. Here is the letter which
Mynheer Beresteyn bade me present to you."

He handed over the letter to Ben Isaje which was writ in Beresteyn's own
hand and duly signed with his own name. The Jew took it from him and
drawing a chair close to the light on the table he unfolded the paper
and began to read.

Diogenes the while examined him attentively. He was the man who after
this night would have charge of Gilda, at the bidding of her own
brother; he--Diogenes--would after this night become a free agent, his
pledge to Beresteyn would be redeemed and he would be free--in an hour's
time mayhap--to work for his own ends--to restore the jongejuffrouw to
her sorrowing father, by taking her by force from this old Jew's keeping
and returning with utmost speed and in utmost secrecy the very way he
had just come. A fortune of 500,000 guilders awaited him in Haarlem,
provided he could cajole or threaten Gilda in keeping his share of her
original abduction a secret for all times.

How this could be done he had not yet thought on; but that it could be
done he had no manner of doubt. An interview with the lady either this
night or on the morrow, a promise to take her back to her father at once
if she swore a solemn oath never to betray him, and he might be back in
Leyden with her to-morrow eve and in possession of a fortune the
following day.

No wonder then, that with these happy thoughts whirling in his head, he

could scarcely restrain his temper while Ben Isaje read the long letter
through, and then re-read it again a second time.

"Have you not finished, sir?" he exclaimed at last with marked
impatience, "meseems the letter is explicit enough."

"Quite explicit, sir, I thank you," replied Ben Isaje, as he slowly
folded up