The cavalier took the pen and wrote down a certain form, in which Vanslyperken dedicated his life and means, as he valued his salvation, to the service of the exiled monarch.  “Read that, and sign it, sir,” said the cavalier, passing it over to Vanslyperken.

The lieutenant hesitated.  “Your life depends upon it,” continued the young man coolly; “do as you please.”

Vanslyperken turned round; the swords were still pointed, and the eyes of those which held them were fixed upon the cavalier awaiting his orders.  Vanslyperken perceived that there was no escape.  With a trembling hand he affixed his signature.

“’Tis well:—­now, observe, that at the first suspicion, or want of zeal, even, on your part, this will be forwarded through the proper channel, and even if you should escape the government, you will not escape us:—­our name is Legion.  You may go, sir;—­do your work well, and you shall be well rewarded.”

Vanslyperken hastened away, passing the swords, the points of which were now lowered for his passage.  Perhaps he never till then felt how contemptible was a traitor.  Indignant, mortified, and confused, still trembling with fear, and, at the same time, burning with rage, he hastened to his mother’s house, for he had brought on shore with him the money which he had received at Amsterdam.

“What, more vexation, child?” said the old woman, looking Vanslyperken in the face as he entered.

“Yes,” retorted Vanslyperken, folding his arms as he sat down.

It was some time before he would communicate to his mother all that happened.  At last the truth, which even he felt ashamed of, was drawn out of him.

“Now may all the curses that ever befell a man fall on his head!” exclaimed Vanslyperken as he finished.  “I would give soul and body to be revenged on him.”

“That’s my own child—­that is what I have done, Cornelius, but I shall not die yet awhile.  I like to hear you say that; but it must not be yet.  Let them plot and plot, and when they think that all is ripe, and all is ready, and all will succeed—­then—­then is the time to revenge yourself—­not yet—­but for that revenge, death on the gallows would be sweet.”

Vanslyperken shuddered:—­he did not feel how death could in any way be sweet;—­for some time he was wrapped up in his own thoughts.

“Have you brought the gold at last?” inquired the old woman.

“I have,” replied Vanslyperken, who raised himself and produced it.  “I ought to have had more,—­but I’ll be revenged.”

“Yes, yes, but get more gold first.  Never kill the goose that lays the golden egg, my child,” replied the old woman, as she turned the key.

So many sudden and mortifying occurrences had taken place in forty-eight hours that Vanslyperken’s brain was in a whirl.  He felt goaded to do something, but he did not know what.  Perhaps it would have been suicide had he not been a coward.  He left his mother without speaking another word, and walked down to the boat, revolving first one and then another incident in his mind.  At last, his ideas appeared to concentrate themselves into one point, which was a firm and raging animosity against Smallbones; and with the darkest intentions he hastened on board and went down into his cabin.