d yesterday that the
man who--though helpless and pinioned--stood before her in all the
splendour of manhood and of a magnificent personality was nothing but a
common criminal--a liar, a forger and a thief.

Though this thought should have made her contented, since by bringing
guilt home to a man who was nothing to her, it exonerated her brother
whom she loved, she had felt all night, right through the disturbing
dreams which had floated through her consciousness, a leaden weight
sitting upon her heart, like the sense of the committal of some great
and irreparable wrong. Indeed, she felt that if here in this very place
which he had filled last night with his exuberant vitality, she had to
think of him as silent and cold for all eternity, such a thought would
drive her mad.

The Lord of Stoutenburg's honeyed words fell unheeded on her ear; his
presence near her filled her with horror; she only kept up a semblance
of interest in him, because he held the fate of another man in the
hollow of his hand.

She was preparing in her mind what she was going to say to him, she
rehearsed the words which were most likely to appeal to his callous
nature. Already she was nerving herself for the supreme effort of
pleading for a brave man's life when suddenly the tramping of heavy feet
outside the hut, confused shouts and clang of arms, caused Stoutenburg
to jump to his feet.

The door was torn open, and Nicolaes Beresteyn stood for a moment on the
threshold, pale, speechless, with body trembling and moisture thick upon
his brow. Lucas of Sparendam was close behind him equally pale and
still.

At first sight of her brother Gilda had uttered a little cry of joy; but
that cry soon died upon her lips. Beresteyn had scarcely looked on her,
his glance at once had found that of Stoutenburg, and the two men seemed
to understand one another.

"We are betrayed?" cried Stoutenburg hoarsely.

Beresteyn nodded in reply.

"How?"

Lucas of Sparendam in short jerky sentences retold once more the tale of
all that had happened at Delft: the Prince of Orange warned, the spies
which he had sent broadcast, the bodyguard which even now was on its
way.

"They know of this place," murmured Beresteyn between quivering lips,
"they might be here at any moment."

Through the open door there came the noise of the men fighting, the
cries of rage and of fear, the clatter of metal and the tramping of many
feet.

"They are scared and half mad," said