the measures which it suggested a condition of
payment.

Between the prudence of Beresteyn and that of Ben Isaje, it was
difficult to see how an adventurous plan could succeed. Three
philosophers against a picked guard of ten men, with two more to keep
watch outside the door, did not seem a promising venture. But Diogenes
would not have been the happy-go-lucky soldier of fortune that he was,
had he paused for long at this juncture in order to brood over likely
failure, or had he not been willing to allow Chance a goodly share in
the working out of his destiny.

It certainly was useless to argue any of these matters further with Ben
Isaje; fate had willed it that the philosopher should spend this night
under the same roof as the jongejuffrouw with a watch of twelve picked
men--not counting the Jew himself--set over him, and to rebel against
that fate now were puerile and useless.

So he murmured more audible thanks for the proffered hospitality, and
put on as good-humoured an air over the matter as he could.

From the distance now there came the sound of jingling bells and the
clatter of horses' hoofs upon the cobble-stones of the streets.

"'Tis the jongejuffrouw," exclaimed Diogenes, springing to his feet.

"The sledge cannot turn into this narrow way," rejoined Ben Isaje, "will
you go meet the lady, sir, at the top of the street where she must needs
dismount, and escort her hither, while I go to give orders to the
serving woman. Your men," he added, as Diogenes at once rose and went to
the door, "and the horses can put up at the hostelry close by where no
doubt they have halted even now."

But already Diogenes was half way down the passage; soon he was at the
front door fumbling in the dark for the heavy bolts. Ben Isaje followed
him more deliberately, lanthorn in hand. He unlocked the door, and the
next moment Diogenes was once more out in the street, walking rapidly in
the direction whence came the occasional pleasing sound of the tinkling
of sleigh-bells.

CHAPTER XXIX

CHECK AGAIN

Though the jongejuffrouw seemed inexpressibly tired and weak, her
attitude toward Diogenes lost nothing of its cold aloofness. She was
peeping out under the hood of the sledge when he approached it, and at
sight of him she immediately drew in her head.

"Will you deign to descend, mejuffrouw," he said with that slight tone
of good-humoured mockery in his voice which had the power to irritate
her. "Mynheer Ben Isaj