“She is here—in Antwerp?” cries Guy excitedly, his heart beating wildly and a lover’s joy in his eye.
“No, fortunately she is in Brussels.”
“Fortunately?”
“Yes, because I can see you would take desperate chances to have an interview with her, and with five thousand crowns on your head.”
“Five thousand?”
“Yes—you’ve gone up in the market lately. Alva has heard how you sent the Gueux against him laden with powder and ball to fight for their breakfasts. No provisions, no water, but plenty of powder, eh? That was a glorious stroke. But Queen Elizabeth has disowned you once more, and Alva has proclaimed that your caput is worth five thousand crowns. Parbleu! how he hates you now. If he only knew”—and the painter bursts into laughter, then says very seriously: “What makes you take this awful risk again, my Guido?”
“Bar the door and listen,” whispers the English captain. This being done, he says under his voice: “On my last visit here I won the love of Alva’s daughter. On this visit I shall win all Alva’s tenth penny gold.”
“Diable! you’re crazy!”
“Harken to my story and see if I am,” and sitting down Chester tells his strange tale of Paciotto’s revelation and post-mortem vengeance upon the dictator of the Netherlands.
This wondrous story is listened to with exclamations of astonishment. As he closes Guy exhibits the drawings of the keys and tracings of the subterranean passage under the bastion, saying: “Now, do you believe?”