Philip threw himself forward on his face, with his lips to the sacred symbol.  The sun went down, and twilight gradually disappeared; night had, for some time, shrouded all in darkness, and Philip yet remained in alternate prayer and meditation.

But he was disturbed by the voices of some men, who sat down upon the turf but a few yards from where he was concealed.  The conversation he little heeded; but it had roused him, and his first feeling was to return to the cottage, that he might reflect over his plans; but although the men spoke in a low tone, his attention was soon arrested by the subject of their conversation, when he heard the name mentioned of Mynheer Poots.  He listened attentively, and discovered that they were four disbanded soldiers, who intended that night to attack the house of the little doctor, who had, they knew, much money in his possession.

“What I have proposed is the best,” said one of them; “he has no one with him but his daughter.”

“I value her more than his money,” replied another; “so, recollect before we go, it is perfectly understood that she is to be my property.”

“Yes, if you choose to purchase her, there’s no objection,” replied a third.

“Agreed; how much will you in conscience ask for a puling girl?”

“I say five hundred guilders,” replied another.

“Well, be it so, but on this condition, that if my share of the booty does not amount to so much, I am to have her for my share, whatever it may be.”

“That’s very fair,” replied the other; “but I’m much mistaken if we don’t turn more than two thousand guilders out of the old man’s chest.”

“What do you two say—­is it agreed—­shall Baetens have her?”

“O yes,” replied the others.

“Well, then,” replied the one who had stipulated for Mynheer Poots’ daughter, “now I am with you, heart and soul.  I loved that girl, and tried to get her,—­I positively offered to marry her, but the old hunks refused me, an ensign, an officer; but now I’ll have revenge.  We must not spare him.”

“No, no,” replied the others.

“Shall we go now, or wait till it is later?  In an hour or more the moon will be up,—­we may be seen.”

“Who is to see us? unless, indeed, some one is sent for him.  The later the better, I say.”

“How long will it take us to get there?  Not half an hour, if we walk.  Suppose we start in half an hour hence, we shall just have the moon to count the guilders by.”

“That’s all right.  In the meantime I’ll put a new flint in my lock, and have my carbine loaded.  I can work in the dark.”

“You are used to it, Jan.”

“Yes, I am,—­and I intend this ball to go through the old rascal’s head.”

“Well, I’d rather you should kill him than I,” replied one of the others, “for he saved my life at Middleburgh, when everyone made sure I’d die.”