"As you will."
Nicolaes Beresteyn now took the other chair and brought it close to his interlocutor. Then he sat down and sinking his voice to a whisper he began:
"I will be as brief and to the point as I can, sir. There are secrets as you know the knowledge of which is oft-times dangerous. Such an one was spoken of in the cathedral last night after watch-night service by six men who hold their lives in their hands and are ready to sacrifice it for the good of their country and of their faith."
"In other words," interposed Diogenes with dry humour, "six men in the cathedral last night decided to murder some one for the good of this country and of their faith and for the complete satisfaction of the devil."
"'Tis false!" cried Beresteyn involuntarily.
"Be not angered, sir, I was merely guessing—and not guessing methinks very wide of the mark. I pray you proceed. You vastly interest me. We left then six men in the cathedral after watch-night service plotting for the welfare of Holland and the established Faith."
"Their lives, sir," resumed Beresteyn more calmly, "depend on the inviolability of their secret. You are good at guessing—will you guess what would happen to those six men if their conversation last night had been overheard and their secret betrayed."
"The scaffold," said Diogenes laconically.
"And torture."
"Of course. Holland always has taken the lead in civilization of late."