him, followed by his serving man, walk up and down the right side of the Broad Street in The Hague, as though seeking adventures, till a girl, also followed by a servant, pushes up against him as if on purpose, and whispers in his ear, ’Are you from Leyden, sweetheart?’ Then he must say ‘Yes,’ and accompany her till he comes to a place where he will learn what must be done and how to do it.  Above all, he must follow no woman who may accost him and does not repeat these words.  The girl who addresses him will be short, dark, pretty, and gaily dressed, with a red bow upon her left shoulder.  But let him not be misled by look or dress unless she speaks the words.

“If he reaches England or Leyden safely with the stuff let him hide it for the present, friend, till your heart tells you it is needed.  I care not where, nor do I wish to know, for if I knew, flesh and blood are weak, and I might give up the secret when they stretch me on the rack.

“Already you have my will sent to you three months ago, and enclosed in it a list of goods.  Open it now and you will find that under it my possessions pass to you and your heirs absolutely as my executors, for such especial trusts and purposes as are set out therein.  Elsa has been ailing, and it is known that the leech has ordered her a change.  Therefore her journey to Leyden will excite no wonder, neither, or so I hope, will even Ramiro guess that I should enclose a letter such as this in so frail a casket.  Still, there is danger, for spies are many, but having no choice, and my need being urgent, I must take the risks.  If the paper is seized they cannot read it, for they will never make out the cypher, since, even did they know of them, no copies of our books can be found in Holland.  Moreover, were this writing all plain Dutch or Spanish, it tells nothing of the whereabouts of the treasure, of its destination, or of the purpose to which it is dedicate.  Lastly, should any Spaniard chance to find that wealth, it will vanish, and, mayhap, he with it.”

“What can he mean by that?” interrupted Foy.

“I know not,” answered Dirk.  “My cousin Brant is not a person who speaks at random, so perhaps we have misinterpreted the passage.”  Then he went on reading: 

“Now I have done with the pelf, which must take its chance.  Only, I pray you—­I trust it to your honour and to your love of an old friend to bury it, burn it, cast it to the four winds of heaven before you suffer a Spaniard to touch a gem or a piece of gold.

“I send to you to-day Elsa, my only child.  You will know my reason.  She will be safer with you in Leyden than here at The Hague, since if they take me they might take her also.  The priests and their tools do not spare the young, especially if their rights stand between them and money.  Also she knows little of my desperate strait; she is ignorant even of the contents of this letter, and I do not wish that she should share these troubles.  I am a doomed man, and she loves me, poor child.  One day she will hear that it is over, and that will be sad for her, but it would be worse if she knew all from the beginning.  When I bid her good-bye to-morrow, it will be for the last time—­God give me strength to bear the blow.