But you will have companions with you, sir? Friends who will help and
stand by you. Those sea-wolves are notorious for their daring and their
cruelty ... they may be more numerous too than you think...."

"The harder the task, mynheer," said Diogenes with his enigmatical
smile, "the greater will be my satisfaction if I succeed in fulfilling
it."

"But though you will own to no kindred, surely you have friends?"
insisted Beresteyn.

"Two faithful allies, and my sword, the most faithful of them all,"
replied the other.

"You will let me furnish you with money in advance, I hope."

"Not till I have earned it, mynheer."

"You are proud, sir, as well as chivalrous," retorted Cornelius.

"I pray you praise me not, mynheer. Greed after money is my sole motive
in undertaking this affair."

"This I'll not believe," concluded Beresteyn as he now rose to go. "Let
me tell you, sir, that by your words, your very presence, you have
put new life, new hope into me. Something tells me that I can trust
you ... something tells me that you will succeed.... Without kith or
kindred, sir, a man may rise to fortune by his valour: 'tis writ in your
face that you are such an one. With half a million guilders so earned
a man can aspire to the fairest in the land," he added not without
significance, "and there is no father who would not be proud to own such
a son."

He then shook Diogenes warmly by the hand. He was a different man to the
poor grief-stricken rag of humanity who had entered this tavern a few
hours ago. His friends also shook the young man by the hand and said a
great many more gracious and complimentary words to him which he
accepted in grave silence, his merry eyes twinkling with the humour of
it all.

The worthy burghers filed out of the tap-room one by one, in the wake of
Cornelius. It was bitterly cold and the snow was again falling: they
wrapped their fur-lined mantles closely round them ere going out of the
warm room, but their hats they kept in their hands until the last, and
were loth to turn their backs on Diogenes as they went. They felt as if
they were leaving the presence of some great personage.

It was only when the heavy oaken door had fallen to for the last time
behind the pompous soberly-clad figures of the mynheers and Diogenes
found himself alone in the tapperij with his friend Frans Hals that he
at last gave vent to that overpowering sense of merriment which had all
along threatened to break its bon