do, did you not?" she asked insistently.

"Have I not confessed to it?" he retorted quietly.

"Alas! And for these crimes must I despise you," she added quaintly.
"But since then my mind hath been greatly troubled. Something tells
me--and would to God I saw it all more clearly--that much that you so
bravely endure just now, is somehow because of me. Am I wrong?"

He laughed, a dry, gentle, self-mocking laugh.

"That I have endured much because of you, mejuffrouw," he said gaily,
"I'll not deny; my worthy patron St. Bavon being singularly slack in his
protection of me on two or three memorable occasions; but this does not
refer to my present state, which has come about because half a dozen men
fell upon me when I was unarmed and pounded at me with heavy steel
skates, which they swung by their straps. The skates were good weapons,
I must own, and have caused one or two light wounds which are but scraps
of evil fortune that a nameless adventurer like myself must take along
with kindlier favours. So I pray you, mejuffrouw, have no further
thought of my unpleasant bodily condition. I have been through worse
plights than this before, and if to-morrow I must hang...."

"No, no!" she interrupted with a cry of horror, "that cannot and must
not be."

"Indeed it can and must, mejuffrouw. Ask the Lord of Stoutenburg what
his intentions are."

"Oh! but I can plead with him," she declared. "He hath told me things
to-day which have made me very happy. My heart is full of forgiveness
for you, who have wronged me so, and I would feel happy in pleading for
you."

Something that she said appeared to tickle his fancy, for at her words
he threw his head right back and laughed immoderately, loudly and long.

"Ye gods!" he cried, while she--a little frightened and puzzled--looked
wide-eyed upon him--"let me hear those words ringing in mine ears when
the rope is round my neck. The Lord of Stoutenburg hath the power to
make a woman happy! the words he speaks are joy unto her heart! Oh! ye
gods, let me remember this and laugh at it until I die!"

His somewhat wild laugh had not ceased to echo in the low-raftered room
nor had Gilda time to recover her composure, before the door was thrown
violently open and the Lord of Stoutenburg re-entered, followed by Jan
and a group of men.

He threw a quick, suspicious glance on Gilda and on Diogenes, the latter
answered him with one of good-humoured irony, but Gilda--pale and
silent--turned her