“Nothing,” answered a strange voice over my shoulder.
I whirled about to see who had spoken, and stood face to face with Patroon Van Volkenberg. He was no longer the anger-tossed man I had seen in the coffee-house. He was now cool and collected. A sinister smile scarcely ruffled his calm features. But when he spoke to me his voice bit like a cold wind.
“No, Monsieur Le Bourse—you see I know your name—no, there is nothing you can do. But we shall meet again.”
He turned away instantly and was swallowed in the crowd. There was no mistaking the expression of his fierce eyes. I recalled the warning Earl Bellamont had given me and I clinched my fists.
At that moment Pierre was ducked for the third time. When he came up the magistrate put the usual question.
“Have you had enough?”
Pierre’s head dropped forward upon his breast.
“Yes, yes,” shouted all. “He nods yes.”
They unbound him and stood him on his feet. He fell full length upon the ground, unconscious and half drowned. At that moment the report of a cannon boomed over the city.
“A ship, a ship!” shouted a hundred voices.