They found them, and having shrouded the little window of the cabin, she sat at the table and very slowly but with much skill drew a plan, or rather a picture, of this portion of the Haarlem Mere.  In that plan were marked many islands according to their natural shapes, twenty of them perhaps, and upon one of these she set a cross.

“Take it and hide it,” said Martha, when it was finished, “so that if I die you may know where to dig for Brant’s gold.  With this in your hand you cannot fail to find it, for I draw well.  Remember that it lies thirty paces due south of the only spot where it is easy to land upon that island.”

“What shall I do with this picture which is worth so much?” said Foy helplessly, “for in truth I fear to keep the thing.”

“Give it to me, master,” said Martin; “the secret of the treasure may as well lie with the legacy that is charged on it.”  Then once more he unscrewed the handle of the sword Silence, and having folded up the paper and wrapped it round with a piece of linen, he thrust it away into the hollow hilt.

“Now that sword is worth more than some people might think,” Martin said as he restored it to the scabbard, “but I hope that those who come to seek its secret may have to travel up its blade.  Well, when shall we be moving?”

“Listen,” said Martha.  “Would you two men dare a great deed upon those Spaniards?  Their ship is burnt, but there are a score or over of them, and they have two large boats.  Now at the dawn they will see the mast of this vessel and attack it in the boats thinking to find the treasure.  Well, if as they win aboard we can manage to fire the matches——­”

“There may be fewer Spaniards left to plague us,” suggested Foy.

“And believing it to be blown up no one will trouble about that money further,” added Martin.  “Oh! the plan is good, but dangerous.  Come, let us talk it over.”

The dawn broke in a flood of yellow light on the surface of the Haarlem Mere.  Presently from the direction of the Spanish vessel, which was still burning sullenly, came a sound of beating oars.  Now the three watchers in the Swallow saw two boatloads of armed men, one of them with a small sail set, swooping down towards them.  When they were within a hundred yards Martha muttered, “It is time,” and Foy ran hither and thither with a candle firing the slow-matches; also to make sure he cast the candle among a few handfuls of oil-soaked shreds of canvas that lay ready at the bottom of the hatchway.  Then with the others, without the Spaniards being able to see them, he slipped over the side of the little vessel into the shallow water that was clothed with tall reeds, and waded through it to the island.