“There we have it,” said Van Hout. “A note was found in Quatgelat’s pouch, and the writing bore a mysterious resemblance to the baron’s hand. Quatgelat was to enquire about the quantity of provisions in Leyden.” “All alike!” exclaimed the burgomaster. “Unhappily he could have brought tidings only too welcome to Valdez. Little that is cheering has resulted from the investigation; though the exact amount has not yet been ascertained.”
“We must place it during the next few days in charge of the ladies.”
“Give it to the women?” asked Peter in astonishment.
“Yes, to us!” cried Van Hout’s wife. “Why should we sit idle, when we might be of use.”
“Give us the work!” exclaimed Maria. “We are as eager as you, to render the great cause some service.”
“And believe me,” added Frau Van Hout, “we shall find admittance to store-rooms and cellars much more quickly than constables and guards, whom the housewives fear.”
“Women in the service of the city,” said Peter thoughtfully. “To be honest—but your proposal shall be considered.—The young lady is in good spirits today.”
Maria glanced indignantly at Henrica, who had leaned far across the table. She was showing Georg a ring, and laughingly exclaimed:
“Don’t you wish to know what the device means? Look, a serpent biting its own tail.”
“Aha!” replied the Junker, “the symbol of self-torment.”