to hang a man?"

"Plenty of time for that, my lord," replied Jan quietly.

"Then see to it, Jan, as speedily as you can. I feel that that man down
below is our evil genius. While he lives Chance will be against us, of
that I am as convinced as I am of the justice of our cause. If that man
lives, Jan, the Stadtholder will escape us; I feel it in my bones:
something must have told me this in the night--it is a premonition that
comes from above."

"Then the man must not live, my lord," said Jan coldly.

"You recognize that too, Jan, do you not?" rejoined Stoutenburg eagerly.
"I am compelled in this--I won't say against my will, but compelled by
a higher, a supernatural power. You, too, believe in the supernatural,
do you not, my faithful Jan?"

"I believe, my lord, first and foremost in the justice of our cause. I
hate the Stadtholder and would see him dead. Nothing in the world must
place that great aim of ours in jeopardy."

Stoutenburg drew a deep breath of satisfaction.

"Then see to the gibbet, my good Jan," he said in a firm almost lusty
voice, "have it erected on the further side of the molens so that the
jongejuffrouw's eyes are not scandalized by the sight. When everything
is ready come and let me know, and guard him well until then, Jan, guard
him with your very life; I want to see him hang, remember that! Come and
tell me when the gallows are ready and I'll go to see him hang ... I
want to see him hang...."

And Jan without another word salutes the Lord of Stoutenburg and then
goes out.

And thus it is that a quarter of an hour later the silence of the night
is broken by loud and vigorous hammering. Jan sees to it all and a
gibbet is not difficult to erect.

Then men grumble of course; they are soldiers and not executioners, and
their hearts for the most have gone out to that merry compeer--the
Laughing Cavalier--with his quaint jokes and his cheerful laugh. He has
been sleeping soundly too for several hours, but now he is awake. Jan
has told him that his last hour has come: time to put up a gibbet with a
few stiff planks taken from the store-room of the molens and a length of
rope.

He looks round him quite carelessly. Bah! death has no terrors for such
a splendid soldier as he is. How many times hath he faced death ere
this?--why he was at Prague and at Madgeburg where few escaped with
their lives. He bears many a fine scar on that broad chest of his and
none upon his back. A splendid fighter, if