eir most frequent crimes: and many
a wealthy burgher had had to pay half his fortune away in ransom for his
child. The fact that a covered sledge escorted by three riders who were
swathed in heavy mantles had been seen to go out of the city by the
northern gate at seven o'clock last evening, was held to be sufficient
proof that the unfortunate jongejuffrouw was being conveyed straightway
to the coast where the pirates had their own lairs and defied every
effort which had hitherto been made for their capture.

On this the 2nd day of January, 1624--rather less than twenty-four hours
after the abduction of Gilda Beresteyn, the tapperij of the "Lame Cow"
presented an appearance which was almost as animated as that which had
graced it on New Year's night. Everyone who took an interest in the
terrible event went to the "Lame Cow" in the hope of finding another
better informed than himself.

Men and women sat round the tables or leaned against the bars discussing
the situation: every one, of course, had a theory to put forward, or a
suggestion to offer.

"'Tis time the old law for the raising of a corps of Waardgelders by the
city were put into force once more," said Mynheer van der Meer the
burgomaster, whose words carried weight. "What can a city do for the
preservation of law and order if it has not the power to levy its own
military guard?"

"My opinion is," said Mynheer van Zeller, who was treasurer of the
Oudemannenhuis and a personage of vast importance, "that we in this city
ought to close out gates against all this foreign rabble who infest us
with their noise and their loose ways. Had there not been such a crowd
of them here for the New Year you may depend on it that Jongejuffrouw
Beresteyn would not have had to suffer this dastardly abomination."

Others on the other hand thought that the foreign mercenaries now within
the city could be utilised for the purpose of an expedition against the
sea-wolves.

"They are very daring and capable fighters," suggested Mynheer van
Beerenbrock--a meek, timid but vastly corpulent gentleman of great
consideration on the town council, "and more able to grapple with
desperate brigands than were a levy of raw recruits from among our young
townsfolk."

"Set a rogue to fight a rogue, say I," assented another pompous burgher.

Cornelius Beresteyn sat at a table with his son and surrounded by his
most influential friends. Those who knew him well declared that he had
aged ten yea