ls beneath her cloak. Then gradually the
figure--ghostlike in this dim light--came more fully into view; the face
of a woman, her lace coif, the gold embroidery of her stomacher all
became detached one by one, but only for a few seconds, for the woman
was walking rapidly, nor did she look to right or left, but glided along
the floor like a vision--white, silent, swift--which might have been
conjured up by a fevered brain.

"A ghost!" whispered one of the young men hoarsely.

"No. A woman," said another, and the words came like a hissing sound
through his teeth.

Beresteyn and Stoutenburg said nothing for a while. They looked silently
on one another, the same burning anxiety glowing in their eyes, the same
glance of mute despair passing from one to the other.

"Gilda!" murmured Stoutenburg at last.

The swish of the woman's skirt had died away in the distance; not one of
the men had attempted to follow her or to intercept her passage.

Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn, no spy of course, just a chance eavesdropper!
but possessed nevertheless now of a secret which meant death to them
all!

"How much did she hear think you?" asked Stoutenburg at last.

He had replaced his sword in his scabbard with a gesture that expressed
his own sense of fatality. He could not use his sword against a
woman--even had that woman not been Gilda Beresteyn.

"She cannot have heard much," said one of the others, "we spoke in
whispers."

"If she had heard anything she would have known that only the west door
was to remain open. Yet she has made straight for the north portal,"
suggested another.

"If she did not hear the verger speaking she could not have heard what
we said," argued a third somewhat lamely.

Every one of them had some suggestion to put forward, some surmise to
express, some hope to urge. Only Beresteyn said nothing. He had stood
by, fierce and silent ever since he had first recognized his sister;
beneath his lowering brows the resolve had not died out of his eyes, and
he still held his sword unsheathed in his hand.

Stoutenburg now appealed directly to him.

"What do you think of it, Beresteyn?" he asked.

"I think that my sister did hear something of our conversation," he
answered quietly.

"Great God!" ejaculated the others.

"But," added Beresteyn slowly, "I pledge you mine oath that she will not
betray us."

"How will you make sure of that?" retorted Stoutenburg, not without a
sneer.

"That is mine affair."