"Three, my good Jan, to be quite accurate," said Diogenes calmly, "but all endurable. I had ten about me outside Prague once, but the fellows there were fighting better than you, and in a worthier cause."
Jan's rough hands continued their exhaustive search; a quickly smothered groan from the prisoner caused Stoutenburg to laugh.
"That sound," he said, "was music to mine ear."
Jan now drew a small leather wallet and a parchment roll both from the wide flap of the prisoner's boot. Stoutenburg pounced upon the wallet, and Beresteyn with eager anxiety tore the parchment out of Jan's hand.
"It is the formal order to Ben Isaje," he said, "to pay over the money to this knave. Is there anything else, Jan?" he continued excitedly, "a thinner paper?—shaped like a letter?"
"Nothing else, mynheer," replied Jan.
"Did you then deliver my letter to Ben Isaje, fellow?" queried Beresteyn of the prisoner.
"My friend Jan should be able to tell you that," he replied, "hath he not been searching the very folds of my skin."
In the meanwhile Stoutenburg had been examining the contents of the wallet.
"Jewellery belonging to the jongejuffrouw," he said dryly, "which this rogue hath stolen from her. Will you take charge of them, Nicolaes? And here," he added, counting out a few pieces of gold and silver, "is some of your own money."