n was his wont. "You will lie very low and take the
greatest possible care not to run your heads into the same rope wherein
mayhap mine will dangle presently. Nor will you be playing the part of
cowards, for you have not yet learned the A B C of that part, and you
will remember that on your safety and freedom of action lies my one
chance, not so much of life as of saving my last shred of honour."

"What do you mean?"

"The jongejuffrouw--" he whispered, "I swore to bring her back to her
father and I must cheat a rascal of his victory. In the confusion--at
dawn to-morrow--think above all of the jongejuffrouw.... In the
confusion you can overpower the guard--rush the miller's hut where
she is ... carry her off ... the horses are in the shed behind the
hut ... you may not have time to think of me."

"But...."

"Silence--they listen...."

"One of us with the jongejuffrouw--the other to help you----"

"Silence ... I may be a dead man by then--the jongejuffrouw
remember--make for Ryswyk with her first of all--thence straight to
Haarlem--to her father--you can do it easily. A fortune awaits you if
you bring her safely to him. Fulfil my pledge, old compeers, if I am not
alive to do it myself. I don't ask you to swear--I know you'll do
it--and if I must to the gallows first I'll do so with a cry of
triumph."

"But you...."

"Silence!" he murmured again peremptorily, but more hoarsely this time
for fatigue and loss of blood and tense excitement are telling upon his
iron physique at last--he is well-nigh spent and scarce able to speak.
"Silence--I can hear Jan's footsteps. Here! quick! inside my boot ... a
wallet? Have you got it?" he added with a brief return to his habitual
gaiety as he felt Socrates' long fingers groping against his shins, and
presently beheld his wallet in his compeer's hand. "You will find money
in there--enough for the journey. Now quick into the night, you
two--disappear for the nonce, and anon when _sauve qui peut_ rings in
the air--to-night or at dawn or whenever this may be, remember the
jongejuffrouw first of all and when you are ready give the cry we all
know so well--the cry of the fox when it lures its prey. If I am not
dangling on a gibbet by then, I shall understand. But quick now!--Jan
comes!--Disappear I say!..."

Quietly and swiftly Socrates slipped the wallet with some of the money
back into his friend's boot, the rest he hid inside his own doublet.

Strange that between these men