attempts at service had
already earned Maria's fulsome contempt.

"You, too, must be hungry, sir," murmured a smooth affable voice close
to Diogenes' elbow. "There is a bite and a drink ready for you; will you
sup, sir, ere you go to bed?"

Before, however, following Ben Isaje into the shop Diogenes exchanged a
few words with his brother philosophers, who, impassive and
unquestioning, had escorted the jongejuffrouw to the door, and now stood
there awaiting further orders. Diogenes suggested their getting supper
and a bed in the hostelry at the top of the street in company with their
driver; the horses too should all be stabled there.

"I am going to spend the night under this tumble-down roof," he said,
"but remember to sleep with one eye open and be prepared for a summons
from me at any hour of the night or morning. Until that comes, however,
do not leave the hostel. Care well for the horses, we may have need of
them to-morrow. Good-night! pleasant dreams! Do not forget that
to-morrow five hundred guilders will fill each of your pockets. In the
meanwhile here is the wherewithal to pay for bed and supper."

He gave them some money and then watched the two quaint figures, the
long one and the round one, until they were merged in the blackness of
the narrow street. Then he went within. Ben Isaje once more closed and
bolted the front door and the two men then went together into the shop.

Here an appetizing supper had been laid ready upon the table and a
couple of tallow candles burned in pewter sconces.

Ben Isaje at once invited his guest to eat and drink.

"Not before we have settled our business together, master," said the
latter as he dragged a chair towards him, and sitting astride upon it,
with his shapely legs thrust well out before him, he once more drew a
paper from out the lining of his doublet.

"You are satisfied," he resumed after a slight pause, "that the lady
whom I have had the honour of bringing into your house is indeed the
Jongejuffrouw Gilda Beresteyn, sister of your client Mynheer Nicolaes
Beresteyn of Haarlem?"

"I am quite satisfied on that point," replied the Jew, whose thin, bent
form under the rigid folds of the black kaftan looked curiously weird in
the feeble yellow light. His face was narrow and also waxlike in hue and
the flickering candle-light threw quaint, distorted shadows around his
long hooked nose.

"Then," said Diogenes blandly while he held out a folded paper to Ben
Isaj