“Because it is a duty, mother,” answered Foy cheerfully, although he tried to look depressed.  He was young and enterprising; moreover, the adventure promised to be full of novelty.

In spite of himself Dirk smiled and bade him summon Martin.

A minute later Foy was in the great man’s den and kicking at his prostrate form.  “Wake up, you snoring bull,” he said, “awake!”

Martin sat up, his red beard showing like a fire in the shine of the taper.  “What is it now, Master Foy?” he asked yawning.  “Are they after us about those two dead soldiers?”

“No, you sleepy lump, it’s treasure.”

“I don’t care about treasure,” replied Martin, indifferently.

“It’s Spaniards.”

“That sounds better,” said Martin, shutting his mouth.  “Tell me about it, Master Foy, while I pull on my jerkin.”

So Foy told him as much as he could in two minutes.

“Yes, it sounds well,” commented Martin, critically.  “If I know anything of those Spaniards, we shan’t get back to Leyden without something happening.  But I don’t like that bit about the women; as likely as not they will spoil everything.”

Then he accompanied Foy to the upper room, and there received his instructions from Dirk with a solemn and unmoved countenance.

“Are you listening?” asked Dirk, sharply.  “Do you understand?”

“I think so, master,” replied Martin.  “Hear;” and he repeated sentence by sentence every word that had fallen from Dirk’s lips, for when he chose to use it Martin’s memory was good.  “One or two questions, master,” he said.  “This stuff must be brought through at all hazards?”

“At all hazards?” answered Dirk.

“And if we cannot bring it through, it must be hidden in the best way possible?”

“Yes.”

“And if people should try to interfere with us, I understand that we must fight?”

“Of course.”

“And if in the fighting we chance to kill anybody I shall not be reproached and called a murderer by the pastor or others?”

“I think not,” replied Dirk.

“And if anything should happen to my young master here, his blood will not be laid upon my head?”

Lysbeth groaned.  Then she stood up and spoke.

“Martin, why do you ask such foolish questions?  Your peril my son must share, and if harm should come to him as may chance, we shall know well that it is no fault of yours.  You are not a coward or a traitor, Martin.”

“Well, I think not, mistress, at least not often; but you see here are two duties:  the first, to get this money through, the second, to protect the Heer Foy.  I wish to know which of these is the more important.”

It was Dirk who answered.

“You go to carry out the wishes of my cousin Brant; they must be attended to before anything else.”

“Very good,” replied Martin; “you quite understand, Heer Foy?”