"That you may tell him not to continue his journey," he insisted, speaking less restrainedly now, as he leaned forward closer to her, her fair curls almost brushing against his cheek as they fluttered in the draught.
"I did not say so," she murmured.
"Because there is a trap laid for him ... a trap of which you know...."
"No, no!" she cried involuntarily.
"A trap into which he may fall ... unknowingly ... on his way to the north."
"You say so, sir," she moaned, "not I...."
"Assassins are on his track ... an attempt will be made against his life ... the murderers lie in wait for him ... even now ... and you, mejuffrouw, who know who those murderers are...."
A cry of anguish rose to her lips.
"No, no, no," she cried, "it is false ... you are only guessing ... remember that I have told you nothing."
But already the tense expression on his face had gone. He drew himself up to his full height once more and heaved a deep breath which sounded like a sigh of satisfaction.