“Speak, and be swift,” said Foy, turning on the man fiercely.

“Am I safe from vengeance?” asked Marsh Jan, who was a good fellow enough although he had drifted into evil company, looking doubtfully at Foy and Martin.

“Have I not said so,” answered Martha, “and does the Mare break her word?”

Then Marsh Jan told his tale:  How he was one of the party that two nights before had rowed Elsa, or at least a young woman who answered to her description, to the Red Mill, not far from Velzen, and how she was in the immediate charge of a man and a woman who could be no other than Hague Simon and Black Meg.  Also he told of her piteous appeal to the boatmen in the names of their wives and daughters, and at the telling of it Foy wept with fear and rage, and even Martha gnashed her teeth.  Only Martin cast off the boat and began to punt her out into deep water.

“Is that all?” asked Foy.

“That is all, Mynheer, I know nothing more, but I can explain to you where the place is.”

“You can show us, you mean,” said Foy.

The man expostulated.  The weather was bad, there would be a flood, his wife was ill and expected him, and so forth.  Then he tried to get out of the boat, whereon, catching hold of him suddenly, Martin threw him into the stern-sheets, saying: 

“You could travel to this mill once taking with you a girl whom you knew to be kidnapped, now you can travel there again to get her out.  Sit still and steer straight, or I will make you food for fishes.”

Then Marsh Jan professed himself quite willing to sail to the Red Mill, which he said they ought to reach by nightfall.

All that afternoon they sailed and rowed, till, with the darkness, before ever the mill was in sight, the great flood came down upon them and drove them hither and thither, such a flood as had not been seen in those districts for a dozen years.  But Marsh Jan knew his bearings well; he had the instinct of locality that is bred in those whose forefathers for generations have won a living from the fens, and through it all he held upon a straight course.

Once Foy thought that he heard a voice calling for help in the darkness, but it was not repeated and they went forward.  At last the sky cleared and the moon shone out upon such a waste of waters as Noah might have beheld from the ark.  Only there were things floating in them that Noah would scarcely have seen; hayricks, dead and drowning cattle, household furniture, and once even a coffin washed from some graveyard, while beyond stretched the dreary outline of the sand dunes.

“The mill should be near,” said Marsh Jan, “let us put about.”  So they turned, rowing with weary arms, for the wind had fallen.