After many pros and cons, and at least a dozen bottles of beer—­for the excitement on the part of the corporal, and the exertion of the widow, had made them both dry—­it was resolved that the Frau Vandersloosh should demand an audience at the Hague the next morning, and should communicate the treasonable practices of Mr Vanslyperken, calling upon the corporal as a witness to the receipt of the money from the Jesuit.

“Mein Gott!” exclaimed the corporal, striking his bull forehead as if a new thought had required being forced out, “but they will ask me how I came there myself, and what shall I say?”

“Say that the Jesuit father had sent for you to try and seduce you to do his treason, but that you would not consent.”

“Mein Gott, yes—­that will do.”

The corporal then returned on board, but did not think it worth while to report himself to Mr Vanslyperken.

Mr Vanslyperken had also been thinking over the matter, and in what way he should be able to escape from the toils prepared for him.  That the widow would immediately inform the authorities he was convinced.  How was he to get out of his scrape?

Upon mature reflection, he decided that it was to be done.  He had copies of all Ramsay’s letters, and those addressed to Ramsay, and the last delivered were very important.  Now, his best plan would be to set off for the Hague early the next morning—­demand an interview with one of the ministers, or even his Majesty himself—­state that he had been offered money from the Jacobite party to carry their letters, and that, with a view to serve his Majesty by finding out their secrets, he had consented to do it, and had taken the money to satisfy them that he was sincere.  That he had opened the letters and copied them, and that now as the contents were important, he had thought it right to make them immediately known to the government, and at the same time to bring the money received for the service, to be placed at his Majesty’s disposal.

“Whether she is before or after me,” thought Vanslyperken, “it will then be little matter, all I shall have to fear will be from Ramsay and his party, but the government will be bound to protect me.”

There certainly was much wisdom in this plan of Vanslyperken, it was the only one which could have been attended with success, or with any chance of it.

Mr Vanslyperken was up at daylight, and dressed in his best uniform; he put in his pocket all the copies of the Jacobite correspondence, and went on shore—­hired a calash, for he did not know how to ride, and set off for the Hague, where he arrived about ten o’clock.  He sent up his name, and requested an audience with the Duke of Portland, as an officer commanding one of his Majesty’s vessels:  he was immediately admitted.

“What is your pleasure, Mr Vanslyperken?” said the duke, who was standing at the table, in company with Lord Albemarle.

Vanslyperken was a little confused—­he muttered, and stammered about anxiety, and loyalty, and fidelity, and excess of zeal, &c.—­