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CilARI.ES H. KELLY, 2, Castle Street, City Road, E.C. ; AND (U), i'ATi;nN()STi;n now, u.c. 181(3. HO Printed by Hazell, Wataon, & Viney, Ld., London and Aylesburj-. INTKODUCTION. TiiL following little story needs, perhaps, no introduction, except an acknowledgment of my indebtedness to the stirring pages of Mr. Motley's " Kise of the Dutch KepubUc " ; and to that most interesting volume I would refer any one who cares to learn more of the heroic struggle by which the Netherlanders won civil freedom and religious liberty. E. P. W. CONTENTS. — ♦ — (HAP. «''«'E 1 7 n 13 III 31 IV n V 59 VI 7:5 VII «« VIII 97 IX 109 X il8 XI 137 SOLDTEES OF LIBERTY. OHAriEli I. 'A clcafciiiing clamour in the slippery clouds." i AM confident that we shall win at last, Albrccht. We have the right on our side. We cannot be finally conquered. Life would not be worth living if I could tliink that. How can you believe that op- l)ression is to last for ever ? ^V'e are not slaves to be trampled under foot with impunity ; wc are men — free men and soldiers — and we will not submit." " We may be concpiered, though we do not voluntarily submit." " Never, Albrecht ! — if we are but true to ourselves. I will not believe it. What I can vou tliink of the 8 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. slavery in which they would bind ns, the mockery which they wonld force on us, in tlie name of religion, — can you think of our ruined homes, murdered friends, and dishonoured country, and still believe that Spain will have i)Ower to crush us down for ever? As there is a God above, / do not believe it for a moment." " If it is to bo, He will strengthen us to bear it, Bertrnnd. I know no more than that." " That we shall be strengthened I do not doubt ; but, please God, it shall be to throw off the yoke of these accursed Si)auiards. It maddens me to hear you talk of submisi;ion. Think of Maestricht, and Naurden, and Harlem ! I tell you, Albrecht, that if we should submit, every town, every village in the country would be condemned to saffer the same horrors. We cannot draw back ; we must fight until we concpier or die ! If we submit, it will be to the Council of Blood, the rack, and the stake. It was not our wish to take up arms (we endured much before we did so), but now it would be madness to throw them down until our freedom is secured." " How can we hope to secure it, Bertrand ? The strife is unequal ; we are matched against the whole power of the greatest and richest empire that this world has ever seen, and we are not even united amongst ourselves. Our Prince is almost without money and without resources. If this last venture SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. fails, nothing can save citlier him or us ; we s': '.' be ruined irretrievably." " But it will not fail. Don't be so faint-hearted, Albrecht." " We must face our position, Bertrand. It would be no help to us to delude ourselves with false hopes." " If I had given up hope, as you liave," replied Ber- trand, rather irai)atiently, " I would thank the first Spaniard I met to put a bullet through me." " If it were not for Marie and Helene, I should be glad to die," said Albrecht ; " even with them, life is almost unendurable. I would to God it were His will to call u« home together ! What is there left to live for ? Our country is a reeking shambles. Our homes are foul with blood. Robbery and murder, Spain and th;; Holy Office,' are turning Holland into a veritable :i' il on earth. Bertrand, I have cried to Heaven for nelp, and I am still unanswered. Nay ! my prayers are mocked — they bring back nought but greater misery. Now, Leyden (our own beloved city) is sur- rounded by the foe ; it is doomed to be the next victim. Hoon my own home will be in ashes — my wife, my child, will be at the mercy of those who have less mercy than the lost spirits of Satan ! " " Oh, Albrecht, how could you leave her ! It was wrong to leave her alone in Leyden. What if Valdez should force his way into the city ? What if he " lo SOLDIERS OF I.lliERTY. " Bortrand, 1 have tliought of all. (-ost what it may, I have clone right to come. Not even lor Marie will I forget the duty 1 owe to my country." " Forgive me, Albrecht. I onglit not to have spoken 80 ; but it is such an awful risk, and — and — 1 could not help fearing tliat you were growing careless of your life. Hr ven send you a safe journey home ! " '' I have no fear for that," he replied, calmly ; " 1 shall live until my time has come to die, and 1 tliink that that will not be yet. 1 wish my errand had been successful, but I can do nothing more ; and unless I get a special message from the Count, 1 shall start from Utrecht the day after to-morrow." '' Oil, Albrecht, 1 do hope you will get home safely ! 1 cannot bear to think of what may hai)pen if you are taken." "I am not afraid," said Albrecht; "with care, I ho]»e I shall pass the Spanish lines with as little difficulty as I had in coming." " Nevertheless, 1 shall be glad when I know that you are safe in Leyden again." " I wish," rejdied Albrecht, thinking of liis wife and child, " that to be in Leyden ivas to be safe." " Things might be mucli worse. We are sure to bring relief. Trust in God and Count Louis. Leyden will never be taken." They walked on in silence for some minutes after this, until Bertrand exclaimed, suddenly, " Look how SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. tl tlie cIoikIh arc gathering, Albreclit 1 1 am afraid that we shall have an awful storm." It was almost midnight, but the l)rothcrs were still pacing the silent and deserted streets. It was their last night together ; for I3ertrand was t(t '^ave Utrecht before noon on the following day, and neither knew what lay before him. They w>?ri; only certain that danger and difficulty were in store for both. They were Netherlanders of good i'amily, and were firm supporters of the Prince of Orange in his brave attempts to save his unhai)py country. Like him, they had lost much in tlie cause of freedom, but had refused with contemi)t Philip's offer of pardon and reward on the condition of their return to his service. Albreclit van Hessfeldt was now about thirty years of age; his brother was some five or six years younger. Both were tall and dark ; Albrecht was unquestionably the handsomer of the two, ])ut Bertrand was much more generally liked and admired. The misery of his surroundings had been too much for Albrecht ; his face was set, stern, and melancholy — no jest could move his dark eyes to laughter, no light or careless v/ords were lieard from his lips. If he had not been a good man, he would have been an utterly repellent one ; as it was, he was feared more generally than loved, for the gentler side of his nature was hidden by the intense hatred he bore to his foes, and crushed down by the weight of liis despair. 12 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. Bertrand was different. An ideal soldier, he won all hearts by his impetnons courage, his frank generosity, and his careless gaiety. In his philosophy there was no place for despair. When they left the house the sky had been clear ; but now black clouds were drifting across the blue, starlit vault above them. There was no wind in the streets, but, above, a gale was blowing, to judge by the flying clouds. Their homeward way lay for some little distance along the wall of the city ; and, as they gained the top of the steps that led uj) to it, both turned, with one consent, to look at the signs of the strange tempest raging overhead. But, as they gazed, the wind was stilled, and the clouds gathered them- selves into dark and heavy masses, surrounding on every side a single space of blue, directly overhead. Longer and broader it grew, as the heavy clouds rolled back into banks of more tlian tliunderous blackness. The space within took sluipe, until it hung, a gigantic oblong, over the whole length of tlie city. The stars faded out of sight, the blue grew pale, clear, and bright as the colours of a summer sunset — yet the clouds were dark as ever, and tlie city below was still wrapped in tlie liush and gloom of midnight. The brothers stood si)ell-ljound, with the sleeping town at their feet, waiting v.nd watching in awestruck silence. Suddenly, the sound of trumpets burst on their astonished cars, for it Wiis not from the silent SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 13 city, nor from the misty fields beyond the wall — no mortal lips blew those uneartlily notes — their weird music called not the sons of men to war — yet warriors gathered at the call ; whether they were denizens of heaven or hell, or phantoms less substantial, the watchers could not tell. They only knew that far above them in the " blue depth of ether " the sem- blance of an army was gatherings to war. Its lances flashed in seeming sunlight, its banners waved as in a bi'eeze. On it marched, a mighty host— footmen and horsemen, spearmen and musketeers — accom- I)anied by trains of lieavy artillery. They marched in haste, but, before they had crossed the blue, another army came slowly forward from the sontli-east, from what appeared to be a camj), entrenched and strongly fortified. Another moment and they met. The shock of tlie encounter shook the heavens. The cannon roared, the combatants shouted as they closed. Down went horse and rider, knight and general, in the fierce liand-to-hand fight that follo\. jd. Heavy smoke obscured the view, and when it cleared the attacking force was in full retreat — the other, trium])hant and \ictoriou8. And still the brothers stood below, waiting in breathless anxiety for tlie end. It came. The retreating army rallied, and advanced once more across the azure battlefield. The other 14 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. formed into a solid square and waited the attack. Faster and faster ruslied the advancing host, fiercer and louder grew the phouts, but the south-eastern army waited, as silent and still as stone. Once more the heavens thrilled with the shock of the encounter — once more the battle raged, but only once. The serried square went down before tlie onslaught of the foe. The shouts of the victors and the groans of the vanquished mingled hideously. Then, suddenly and without warning, the combatants vanished, the sounds of the conflict died away, and on the unsullied bine not a trace of the struggle was left. For several minutes neither Albrecht nor Bertrand uttered one word. They stood pondering in silence the fearful scene their eyes had witnessed, and gazing in awestruck wonder on the cloud-framed space above, now fair and blue and silent as the caba of a summer sea. But once again its peaceful aspect was dispelled. Across it, flowing swiftly, there appeared broad streams of blood — deepest and darkest where the phantom battle had raged most fiercely. Bertrand, shuddering and sickened, turned away, but Albrecht did not move. Suddenly, the crimson faded out of sight, the strange, unnatural brightness died away, the stars reai)peared, and the heavy masses of cloud broke up and passed away. Nothing remained to tell of the strange vision they had seen ; and when some minutes had gone by without further ai)paritions, they roused themselves SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. »5 and went on their way, half doubting tlie evidence of their senses, but still dee])ly impressed with vague forebodings of coming evil. Tliat night tliey said little, even to each other, of what they had seen, but morning brought strange tidings. Otliers besides themselves had seen the sights and heard the sounds of that dread battle in tlio sky ; before the grave magistrates of Utrecht they told their story, swearing to its truth, and it was entered in the records of the town, attested solemnlv bv five independent witnesses. iSo Albrecht and his brother could no longer doubt that what they thought tliey saw, tliey really had seen. Why sliould they doubt ? Tlie story travelled fast ; the noble and the learned of the land agreed in giving it credence, and in attaching to it a i)rophetic import. Oi\\y what did it mean ? Who could interpret the vision ? Not one Daniel, but many, came forward to display their magic lore. Not one, l)nt many, asserted that it fore- told disaster to the arms of Holland and danger to her liberty. Some went further, among them Albrecht van Hessfeldt. He held that the prediction was of some final and irretrievable catastroplie, which would end, at once and for ever, the struggle with Spain. Even Bertrand was depressed ; he realised at last that victory was uncertain, and he feared that defeat was imminent. i6 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. '' If only we had not seen the Spanish banners and heard their war-cries, I could hope," he said to Albrecht. " But we ham heard them," he returned. " All that remains for us is to sell our lives as dearly as we can." " By Heaven, we will ! " cried Bertrand. " If we are doomed to die, we will die like men." " Yes ! fate has given us one little hour ; let us make the most of it. Heaven but grant us vengeance, if it be but for a moment, and then let us die. I can die now, Bertrand." " I fancied that you, too, thought that the battle went against us," said Bertrand, sadly. *' Yes, in the end ; but first, don't you remember ? the victory is to be ours. They will go down before us. Think of that, Bertrand ! We shall not die dis- honoured, after all. We are to be avenged on Spain, and then we can die." But the thought of vengeance did not completely reconcile Bertrand to the fate in store for Holland. Hitherto he had not despaired of the final triumph of liberty ; now he did despair, and he could not sustain himself with the fierce comfort that supported his brother. The vision had been too clear, too explicit to be disbelieved, and it was with a heav} heart that he said " Good-bye." Not so Albrecht. He had long anticipated the com- SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 17 pleto overthrow of the Dutch armies, but the previous gleam of success was an unlooked-for mercy. In fierce elation of spirit he went on his homeward way, willing to wait and to suffer for the coming hour of triumph, and after that to die. Vengeance was all that earth had now to offer, and, thank Heaven, it was not to be entirely withheld. So they parted, both firmly believing in the reality of that strange nocturnal strife among the clouds, and agreeing as to its interpretation ; but, to the one it came as a message of hope, to the other, as a sentence of despair. Perhaps they erred in thinking tliat they saw it r Perhaps the phantoms merely mocked the ways of men in playful sport ? Perhaps all had a meaning, and they read it wrongly ? Reader, you must form your own conclusions ; but I beg you to remember tliat my tale is of a time, three hundred years ago, when the thoughts of men and (for aught I know) the ways of demons ran h\ different grooves from those of u^- nineteenth century. " But," some critical reader may say, " do you actually ask us to believe in visions and omens and apparitions ? Arc not credulity and superstition the attributes of the vulgar ? We cannot accept such a tissue of extravagance as you have set down for our perusal." I didn't say you could, reader. All I assert is, that i8 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. the truth of the story above recorded was not doubted in the days of the Van Hessfeldts. Nay, so far was it from being doubted, that the fulfilment of the vision was anxiously looked for, and, in course of time, was universally believed to have occurred. CHAPTER II. ■'4 i I The even trench, the bristling mound, The legions' ordered line." ARIE sat waiting at the window from ^••hich the heavy cur- tains had been drawn aside. The wander- ing moonbeams fell softly over her, light- ing her bright hair with a saint-like radi- ance, and shining on the lovely face of the sleeping child in her arms. Even the cold, lair liglit could not add to the gentleness and purity of her appearance ; but she had never looked prettier or sweeter than on this night, as she sat listening for her husband's return, though the warm colour had faded from her cheeks, and her blue eyes were shadowed with anxiety. «9 30 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. Every footfall in the quiet street sounded distinctly in the quieter room, but one by one they passed the house and went on, and still Albrecht did not come. An hour and a lialf dragged slowly by, but Marie still watched by the window in the great, dusky, silent room alone. Van Hessfeldt had returned safely from Utrecht, and Leyden was besieged no longer, but in all perilous enterprises he was sure to be the first ; and to-day he had left the city on a dangerous errand to a certain Count Witenhove, who, though expressing cordial sympathy with the patriotic party, was generally esteemed a somewhat unstable and wavering advocate of civil and religious liberty. Some people even sus- pected him of the base design of buying his sovereign's regard by treachery to his countrymen. This suspicion might do him an injustice, but certainly rendered it necessary to use extreme caution in dealing with him ; therefore the magistrates of Leyden had chosen Albrecht van Hessfeldt as their emissary, regarding him as one whose diplomatic ability and intense devo- tion to the " good cause " rendered him peculiarly well-fitted for the difficult and delicate task of in- ducing Count Witenhove to declare himself either friend or foe to Holland, for either course was pre- ferable to hanging in the balance, between the two sides of the quarrel. Yet Holland could not afibrd to lose a single possible defender, for at that time she SOLDIEES OF LIBERTY. 91 was suffering under horrors and cruelties so vile, that one cannot but wonder that men could do so well the work of demons ; nay, not only do it, enjoy it, revel in it. Drowning or hanging, burning or torturing, nothing came amiss to the Inquisitors and their associ- ates ; what their inhuman masters willed, they executed with cheerfulness and readiness. For many years the Netherlauders had borne this dreadful oppression quietly. As Bertrand had said, they had seen their dearest friends, their nearest relations, suffer at the stake ; they had been robbed, and dragged belDre illegal tribunals to answer for their words — their thoughts 1 They had been governed (against their laws) by strangers who cared nothing for them ; their charters of liberty had been disregarded ; their rights as freemen trampled under foot — yet all this and much more they had borne patiently, until their last hope of redress was crushed by repeated falsehoods on the part of their king and his ministers. Then, at last, they had risen in arms to defend their homes and their religion, and in their distress, God had raised up a deliverer for them, as He did for Israel of old. This deliverer was the Prince of Orange, who, six years before the time of my story, had begun to levy troops and to raise money for the purpose of forcing tlie Spaniards to leave the Netherlands. Since then, many battles had been fought, and many cities had been besieged by both parties, with varying success. 32 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. Up to this time, liowevor, tlie Dntoli liad beou moro froqnoiitly ('on([iiere(l tluin conquering. Tlie Spaniards stained tlieir victories with tlie most harharons cruel- ties to all wlio fell into their hands, often massacring men, women, and children without mercy. Tims it will be easily believed that the breacli between the " rebels " and their sovereign grew wider daily, tliough they still jn-ofessed to be willing to return to their allegiance so soon as he sliould redress their wrongs. They always affected to believe tlmt Phili]) himself Avas, as he chose to be styled, " clement, benign, and debonair," and that it was only his servants wlio were of the opposite cliaracter. Orange even went to the lengtli of commissioning his brother to raise an army, in the king's own name, to act against his ministers, " strictly for his good," as Mr. Motley phrases it. A very short time had passed since Leyden was a besieged city — besieged by the hated Spaniards — and all within her walls knew the full significance of the fact. It meant, not only the usual misery and suffer- ing that war always and inevitably carries in its train, but, if they failed to defend themselves, utter ruin and annihilation. The siege had lasted for about six montlis when Count Louis of Nassau succeeded in bringing an army to the relief of tlie city, and the Spanish leader, leaving his position before Leyden, hastened forward 'k SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 83 to meet liiiu. Meanwhile, tlie inhabitants of the adjacont country crowded into the town ; but, uu- hnppily, the autliorities of Leydeu neglected to re- ])leuisli their exiiausted 8U])])lies ; thus the city was ia the worst possible condition to stand a second siege, should the Spanisli general defeat Count Louis and return to tlie onslauglit. Marie was still sitting l)y the window when her husband entered the room. " Oh, Albreclit," she said, " I am so glad you have come at last ! What has been the matter ? " "Nothing, Marie, nothing. (*onnt Witenhove has agreed to join us openly, and I l)elieve he has been much maligned ; for tliough he may be vacillating, I cannot think that he is treaclierous." " But what made you so late ? " " I was delayed on the way home. I heard tidings at Belfeldt of the defeat of Count Louis at Mooker- lieydc, and I stayed to ascertain the truth. I am afraid, Marie, that there is no doubt the rumour is correct, ))ut we shall hear more in the morning." " Is there no hope, Albreclit ? Who brouglit the news ? Did you hear anything of Bertrand ? " " I fear, Marie, that we shall never see him again." " Oil, Albrecht 1 Is Bertrand killed ? " " I have no certain news ; but they say that Count Louis is dead and his wliole armv cut to licces. Thev say tliat none escaped." 34 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. " Surely it cannot be true, Albrecht. They always make the worst of snch things." " It may bo true, Marie," repeated her husband, in the stern, calm voice that made many people declare him to be unfeeling. " 1 fear it is." " What 1 you don't believe that Bertrand is dead ? " sobbed Marie. " Hush, Marie, hush 1 If not dead, he must by tl»is time be in the hands of tlie — Inquisitors. I hoi)e, I trust, that he is dead. Better death a thousand times than to be taken prisoner by the Spaniards. Oh, Marie, worse might happen than that he should din a soldier's death in battle. God grant that mine may be such a death. If he is dead, Bertrand is not to be pitied. He has escaped from the evil that is coming ; he has escaped from misery, slavery, dishonour. That is left for us who live." " We are in God's hands, Albrecht." Albrecht made no answer, but after a long pause said slowly, " Marie, I never told you what happened at Utrecht. Bertrand and I saw it together. After that even he believed tliat we could never conquer." " What was it, AlVrecht ? " He told her all that had occurred, adding, " You see there is no hope for us, Marie. Nothing can save us. But Marie had not seen the vision, was great in the justice of their cause. and her trust She believed SOLDIERS OF UBERT\. n tliaf Micro was a (iod in heaven rnling over all, who would not i)ermit the final trinmjth of their op])ressor8, and slie grieved for Bertrand's liaving died in his yontli and strength while Holland still groaned under the S])anish yoke — she grieved for him that lie could never now do his jiart towards the great work which slie was convinced would yet be; done. Albrecht talked in his despair of Bertrand's happiness in es- caping the last miseries of Holland ere she ceased to bo a nation ; but Marie pitied the young and ardent soldier that his sword could not aid the great struggle for his country's redemption. Before morning the sad news of the terrible disaster at Mookerheyde was all over the city. Post after post brought confirmation of the dreadful tidings. The overthrow had been complete, and now the people of Leyden trembled for themselves. The re- turn of Valdez and his army might be expected immediately, and this time there was little prospect of relief. Prince William's resources liad been taxed to the utmost to provide Oount Louis' army ; but if Leyden had now to depend on herself, her fate was sealed already. Crowded to excess, and ill supplied with food, she could not hold out longer than a month or two. So said some of her citizens, at least, while they did their utmost to repair their error and bring su])plies into the city ; but with all their eiforts the amount of food collected during tlie few davs of 26 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY, respite was almost inappreciable compared to the number of people who had gathered together within the walls. Albrecht came to his wife on the day after the pre- ceding conversation with a more than usually downcast exjjression. ''Marie," he said, "1 wish that I could send you and Hel6ne out of the city ; but I cannot arrange it. I cannot find an escort for you that I can trust ; besides I do not know where you would be safer than here if I could. There would be great risk in any attempt to leave the country now." " Did you mean to send me away alone, Albrecht ? " she asked. " 1 cannot leave the city now," lie answered ', " every moment is precious. You know that I must stay." " I know ; but so must I. I cannot leave you. I will not leave you, Albrecht." " 13nt, Marie, you don't know what it will be." " I have tried it, Albrecht." " Yes, but not anything like w])at is coming upon us. It has been bad enough ; but, oh, Marie, if you hud eeen as much of war as I have, you would shudder to think of what Leyden must suffer in a few weeks' time." " Why, Albrecht ? " " There is no food in the place worth mentioning. We shall starve." SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 27 " Starve, Albredit ? Can nothing be done ? Is there not time yet ? " Her husband shook liis head. " We are doing all that can be done now, but at the best it will hardly make a fortnight's difference. I tell you, Marie, we are doomed to meet the most horrible fate that ever falls to the lot of man. Notliing on earth can save ns." " But still there is power in Heaven," said Marie, reverently. " I cannot think of Heaven, Marie. I have almost lost faith in God and hope in anytliing. We suffer and die, nay, are tortured and murdered, and who hears us or takes heed of our misery ? No one in Heaven or earth. I know what you would say ; I have !,aid it to myself hundreds and hundreds of times, l)nt I cannot believe all these things are working to- gether for our good. I cannot, Marie." " Albrecht, we must not lose faith and patience." " Ai times I tliink 1 have lost both. Since that night at Utrecht 1 have been able to think of nothing but veiigefince- -vengeance ! and now, oh, Marie ! I am b(>ginning to fear that I, at least, shall miss even that. What if, after all, I am to die cooped uj) here in Leyden, starved to death, without striking one blow ? What if I am to die unavenging and unavenged at last ? " His stern calm had vanished, his passion was terrible to witness. 28 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. " I cannot bear it, Marie ! " he cried. " Vengeance is my right, and I will have it ; and yet, what can I do in Leyden ? I thonght that it was promised me. I was willing to live for it, to suffer for it, but after all I am to die without it. It is too hard, too bitter to be borne ! " " Perhaps we are to have something better than vengeance," said Marie, gently. " We can have nothing better, Marie. Did I not tell you that the Netherlanders, in that strange, aerial battle, were swept away — vanquished utterly ? Earth and hell are against us, and, for aught I know, Heaven is against us, too." " It cannot be, Albrecht ; if we trust in God, He will hear us." " We have trusted Him, Marie, but has He listened to us ? Are we to ])ray for ever, unheard and unanswered ? " " The answer will come at last." " Starvation will come ; division amongst ourselves, perhaps treachery, and at last tlie fate of Harlem ; but the answer will not come. It is useless to expect it, Marie. You do not know all, I say, or you, too, would give up hope ; you, too, would be illing to barter your life, nay, your very soul, for vengeance." But Marie, weeping, turned away, pained and dis- mayed to see Albreclit in this passion of fierce resent- ment, and half afraid of him, for the first time in her SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 29 life. Her look, her gesture calmed him as her words had had no power to do. In a moment he was kneel- ing at her side, talking in a voice that was sad and (les})airing still, but no longer breathing savage threats of vengeance. He began to speak once more of his plans for her safety, but was obliged to admit that none of them were feasible, and to her great satisfaction he pro- mised at last that he would not try to send her away. The preparations for the defence of the city went t^lowly forward ; provisions were collected more slowly still ; but Valdez did not yet appear before the walls. Every day, however, brought more fugitives into the city, many of whom had bitter stories to tell of the wrongs they had suffered at the hands of the Spaniards. " They would rather starve in Leyden," tliey declared, " than remain in the unprotected vil- lages exposed to the brutality of the foreign soldiers." Alas I many and many of them did starve. The coming of these stragglers made the prospects of the townspeople more miserable ; but they had not the heart to close their gates upon tlieir wretched countrymen, who, among all the citizens, had no warmer friend than Albrecht van Hessfeldt. He cared for their comfort as far as might be, and listened to their sad tales of wrong and oppression with sym- pathy — too much sympathy, if that were possible. As he listened his dark eyes flashed, and he had need to 3° SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. bite his lips to keep back the wild words that were rising on his tongue, while in his heart the hate of Spain grew deeper. But at home he had not the same incentives to self- command, and day after day Marie was shocked and pained by violent torrents of invective, and awful threats of vengeance, in which he seemed to lose sight of all principles of justice and hunianit}'. One day, when he had been speaking even less guardedly than usual, condemning the whole race of Spaniards as being all alike, brutal, merciless, and false, Marie interrupted him, saying gravely, " Albrecht, have you forgotten Hernando del Rio ? " The question silenced him at once. The name (though a Spanish one) was never without its eflFect. He stopped, ashamed, in the midst of the fiercest denunciations of " Spanish oppression and treachery " when that name was mentioned. Two or three weeks had passed after the battle of Mookerheyde, when the Spanish troops reapj)eared, investing Leyden so closely that it was utterly imjjos- sible to introduce even the smallest supply of food. The hostile general expected the city to fall an easy prey to him, for he knew the condition of things within ; but he did not know the indomitable spirit of its defenders, nor the inexhaustible energies of William the Silent, and he soon discovered that his task was harder than he had anticipated. CHAPTER III. " Her little child has gone to sleep, Why should the mother watch and weep ? Earth's ills were gathering round her nest, She crept into a Father's breast." quent than before. •She had 3* seen TT was very -*■ s a d for Marie ; it made her cheeks thin- ner and paler, her eyes less bright, and her smile less fre- mnch that was y /■ 32 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. terrible in the twenty-three years of her life, but nothing to equal the misery that came upon Leyden in that summer of 1574. Eight weeks had not yet passed since the beginning of the siege, but starvation was already staring them in the face. The burghers had bound themselves to hold the city for at least three months, and if within that time they were not relieved, they were at liberty to make the best terms that they could with the Spanish general. Two months had already gone by, but the Prince had not yet been able to redeem his promise. Valdez was making ample offers of pardon and amnesty if the citizens would open their gates, but they had no confidence in Spanish promises, and they had given their word to their Prince, so they treated the over- tures of the enemy with contempt. The hope of relief was daily becoming slighter. William was doing his utmost to save the city, but it was certain that he could not bring another army to raise the siege by laud. His plan, therefore, was to break down the dykes and flood the surrounding country, which would have the doable advantage of annoying and endanger- ing the Spanish troops, and, at the same time, opening the way to Leyden by water. To this desperate •measure the " Estates of Holland " consented, and the Prince began immediately to collect the necessary vessels and provisions at Rotterdam, and at such other ports as remained in his hands. The cost of SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 33 levelling the huge banks of earth, raised all along the low-lying coast of Holland to resist the encroachments of the sea, was defrayed by taxes, but this burden, in addition to the damage done to crops and houses by the water, was borne cheerfully. All were willing to do their very utmost to save the courageous people who still held Leydeu for the Prince and for the good cause of liberty ; but none without the walls knew what the citizens were suffering. The weak were dying even now from insuflScient nourishment, and the stronger must soon follow them if helj) did not come. Day by day their condition grew more terrible. The soldiers who guarded the walls liad long been forbidden to go outside the shelter of the city lest it should be left altogether defenceless ; but, in spite of all precautions, their numbers dimin- ished rapidly, and there was the fearful possibility that if the Spanish leader ordered a general attack upon the place from several points at once, the feeble garrison would be overcome with comparative ease. Valdez, however, though he had attacked the city many times, had hitlierto met with little success ; and if they had been properly supplied with food, the Netherlanders would not have feared the worst that he could do. But famine was a foe not to be set at defiance, and they waited in agonising anxiety for news of coming help. Alas I their cup of misery was not yet full ; before many days were over the awful 8 34 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. accompaniment of famine was upon them, and the citizens were dying by scores from pestilence. By this time almost all the bread was consumed, and what remained was given out to the starving people in portions so small that it only seemed to pro- voke their appetites — not satisfy them. At the best, it could only last a few days longer, and then they must die as they had lived — defying the Spaniards to the last. Sadly altered are the people of Leyden in two short months. There is not a face in all the dreary town that does not look haggard and old with its weight of misery and fear. Hopeless, and worse than hopeless — how can such a face look young ? Marie is worn and weary with constant watching and many sleepless nights, for poor little Hel^ne has grown so thin and pale and quiet that her mother does not like to leave her for a moment. The sad truth is beginning to dawn upon Marie, and she knows that all her watching, all her care, will soon be unne- cessary, for death has laid his cold hand on the child. She is dying slowly, oh, so slowly, that her mother feels at times as if she will be able to welcome the sad end, and surely she is not to blame ; the peace and quietness of the grave, even if that were all, would indeed be happiness compared to life in famine- and-plague- stricken Leyden. But sometimes, even yet, Marie hopes that relief may come in time to save SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. sr her darling. It is not to be, however ; H616ne and many others will be at rest before the city opens her gates to admit her friends ; and until they come, slu; will never open them ; never, never, to her hated foes ! Marie finds it very hard now to give the just and equal portion of food to eacli member of hor house- hold. Tliis daily task is a daily temptation to her. It seems utterly useless to divide so small a loaf among so many. Oh, if she could only keep it for her husband and her child, who must so surely die unless ! But Marie, even bright, cheerful, hopeful Marie, cannot hope to-day ; a terrible ending to tlieir misery seems certain, and she sliudders at tlie thought of Harlem's brave resistance, profaned churches, and desolated homes; and then she remembers Albrecht's despairing words, "What if Heaven also is against us ? " Perhaps he was right ; perliaps they were for- saken alike by God and man. Had they not asked earnestly for help in this their time of need — asked, as dying men pray for life, and still they remained unanswered ? Yet, pray on, Marie ; there is One who hears and answers, even though it seems sometimes as if He 1ms forgotten those who call upon Him. Divide the loaf, even if it be your last, and trust the Lord and Giver of life to provide the next. Marie hesitated a moment with the bread in her hand ; then, with one glance at the faces round her — 36 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. faces nearly mad with hunger and despair — she moved to a small oaken table in the centre of the room, and began to cut the loaf into slices. The sun was shining brightly into the room ; but, in Marie's eyes, it looked dark and dreary, for the large cupboards were empty, and so were the boxes and barrels that lay scattered about. It was shining brightly, too, upon the gaunt figures and haggard faces of tliose about lier, but the cheerful daylight only showed their gliastliness more strongly. Such figures and such faces ! It did not matter, old or young, they were all alike, hopeless, almost stupefied, yet with a horrible look of wolfish hunger in their wild eyes and hollow cheeks. There were women there, and children; oh 1 tliey were the saddest siglit of all, so young and yet so old, for they had passed through a lifetime of suffering in Leyden already. What would they be before the end ? As Marie looked on their faces she saw tlie answer written, " Nothing but dust and ashes I" But now the loaf was cut, and the pieces were snatched Imngrily from her hand and devoured, then and there, before her eyes. When she had given to each person in the room the morsel that was her share of the food, one slice remained, besides what she had reserved for her husband and herself. " Who is it that has not come down ? " she asked of a girl who was just leaving the room. " 1 am sure that I cut only the usual number of slices." SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 37 " Kenna Bocrliaavc was ill last night. I think sho did not come." " What was tlie matter witli lier ? " " She was sick and faint, and conld not stand. Shall 1 take the bread to lier ? " " Thank yon," said Marie ; bnt, as she looked at the hnngry-eyed girl, slie liesitated. Onglit she to trnst lier ? The temptation might be too great, she feared. " No ; I will go myself," she said. " Slie will expect me, and I must see what I can do for her." An hour later Marie was sitting by the window wlicre we first saw |her, witli H^lene asleep in lier arms. Slic was ga/iing sadly at tlie child wlien Alhrecht entered, carrying a tiny jug in his hand. " What is it, Albrecht ? " asked Marie. " It is milk; I did not know until to-day that there were any cows left. Kalbfleisch let me have this for a ducat. I hope it may do H^lene good. Is she any better ? " " I don't know," she answered. " She has been very quiet for the last hour. I began to be frightened about her. I am glad you have come. Look at her now." Albrecht did look, and he, too, began to think that there was much cause to fear the worst. " Poor little woman 1 " he said. " It scarcely looks like an ordinary sleep." They had great difficulty in rousing her, and even 38 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. wlien they succeeded slie would not touch the food. She scarcely seemed to know her father, and moaned so piteously that at last they gave uj) trying to per- suade her to drink. Both saw that it was useless; the child was already dying. Marie watched the little face intently that lay so quietly on her arm ; it looked terribly still and calm. She sat almost motionless, thinking sad thoughts of the little daughter whose short life was drawing so quickly to its close ; thinking regretfully of the merry childhood she had pictured for her, the pleasant girl- hood, which was to have been so full of (piiet happi- ness ; thinking of the little prattling voice, so soon to be hushed for ever ; the merry, ringing laugh that she would never hear again. Ah ! regretfully is not the word; it was rather with an intense overwhelming anguish that seemed as it it would grind her very life away ! Yet she was outwardly quiet and composed ; the time had not come when she could indulge her grief with tears. By-and-by her thoughts wandered away to her own childhood, passed among the sunny hills of southern France. She lost all consciousness of the present and its misery. She seemed once more to hear her mother's voice soothing her with gentle words in some childish sorrow. But the sorrows of her girlhood had not all been childish, for she had lived among the persecuted Huguenots, the child of a Protestant pastor, whose life SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 39 w}i« si)ent in liourly peril of the stake and the j^'aHcys. She had grown up ])right and gay, however, like her sweet, trne-hearted mother ; and perhajjs it was her sunny cheerfulness that had attracted Albrecht, who had even then been grave and silent. Marie's thoughts were wandering strangely. They had travelled away from gloomy Leyden, away from lier dying child, back to the fair mountain land in whicli her youth was passed, back to the bright morning when she gave her liand to Albrecht van Hessfeldt, Prince William's honoured friend and emissary. Had she not be:n happy then ? Who could have foreseen the misery that had come upon them, that was changing her husband's very nature? What would the end be? How could she live through it all ? Suppose that Albrecht, too, should leave her ? Oh ! if they could die together 1 She was losing hope at last. Helene was dying in her arms. What was there left to live for ? The afternoon passed, hour after hour, and still Albrecht and his wife watched the little girl, think- ing each moment must be her last, until it grew dark, and Van Hessfeldt was called away, leaving Marie to watch alone. It grew yet darker, but slie still occui)ied her favourite chair by the window. The shadows deo})ened in the room, but she did not move to get a light, for Helene, whose rest had been fitful aid disturbed, was 40 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. sleeping quietly now. ^^nother hour went by, and at its close Albreclit entered the room carrying a small lamp in his hand. " What, Marie 1 you still here ? Is she any better ? " But Marie did not answer. Then Albrecht bent down and looked at the little face that was so white and still. Marie looked too, and in one glance saw that she was childless. Gently and calmly little H^lene had passed away, resting in her mother's arms so peacefully that the time was unknown when her last sleep on earth became the sleep that knows no waking. CHAPTER IV. " Her eyes are stars of twilight fpir, Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair.' ''"VTTELL, Alonzo, 1 ' '^ am sure that I am sorry for you." " You sound sorry." "I really am sorry; but, after all, is it worth your while to distress yourself so much about her ? There are ])lenty of other young ladies as pretty " " Pretty I Gonzalo. Do you call Anita del Rio only pretty "i There is not a girl in Holland, or Spain either, that can compare with her for beauty. Tliink of her eyes, her hair, her hands ! " 41 42 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. " Nay ! I will admit that, in her own style, she is beautiful ; but such haughty-featured beauties are not to my taste. That pretty little Dutch girl who passed us just now would suit me better." " What 1 Do you dare to compare Anita to that commonplace peasant girl ? It is absurd, Gonzalo ; perfectly absurd, I say ! " "You may be right, Alonzo. What more would vou have ? Do I deny that Donna Anita is handsome ? Have I said one word to her disparagement ? Besides, if I cannot see the sun, will the sun grieve for my blindness ? Is not the loss my own ? " " Do you mean to laugh at me ? " asked Alonzo angrily. " I mean to say that tastes always have differed, and always will, I su})pose. And a blessing it is for us that they do. Would you be any the better pleased if every one thought of your liege lady as you do ? Would it comfort you if I, too, were willing to die for a smile from her ? Would you not be ready rather to try conclusions with your sword if I presumed so far ? " " But you talk," said Alonzo scornfully, " as if her beauty were the only thing worth the thinking of." " Am I more to blame in that than you ? Why do you admire her, if not for her beauty ? " " I admire her, I love her, because she is so ffoci and noble." .^ SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 43 Up to this point Gonzalo had spoken in a tone of light mockery that had irritated his companion ; now his manner changed, and he asked seriously, "Are you sure of that, Alonzo ? I have known her longer than you, and to me she appears to be nothing but a very headstrong, wilful girl — handsome enough, and, perhaps, clever, but nothing more. I do not think, if she married you, she would make you happy." " She will not marry me, and I never shall be happy." " Does not that prove what I have said ? does it not show her to be headstrong and wilful ? She knows that her uncle wishes her to be your wife. She is dependent on him, and she should be content to be 'iTiided by liim. I do not see what more she can i/ change her 44 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. mind ! If you were right, if there were any hope of that,'! would stay here till my hair was grey." " If I \, •'' vrii," said Gonzalo, after a pause, " I should speak . ;r uncle. I knoiv ih&i he wishes her to marry you." " What good would that do ? I know that he has already done his utmost to induce her to yield." " I do not think that Vasco del Rio would scruple to use force if persuasion failed ; and, on my honour, I should not blame him. One cannot expect him to have patience with her caprices and whims." " I would rather never see her again, Gonzalo, tiian have him force her to marry me ! " Gonzalo shrugged his shoulders, saying lightly, "Advice is thrown away on you. For my part, I should not scruple to use the power tliat tlie fates had given me, if I were you. I should trust to her for- giveness afterwards." On the evening of the day during which the fore- going conversation took place, Anita was sitting alone in lier room, when she received a message from her uncle desiring her presence. She was surprised at this, for she rarely saw him, though they lived under the same roof ; but she obeyed his command immedi- ately. She found him alone, about to sit down to supper, and was invited to take a seat at the table. The meal passed in silence, and as soon as it was over the servants were ordered to withdraw ; but for some SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 4i minutes Anita was not informed why her presence had been requested. Vasco del Rio was a tall, thin-featured but handsome man of about sixty, with grey hair, and dark, cold- looking eyes. His niece was also tall, and was rather like him in feature. She was, as Alonzo had declared, more than pretty. Her hair and eyes were very dark, her complexion was pale but clear, and her figure was slight and graceful. She sat gazing at her companion with a look that increased the likeness. The face of the girl was open and defiant ; that of the man brooding and cruel, but there was still a likeness. Both were angry, and both were preparing for a struggle. At last Vasco spoke. " Auifca," he said, " Alonzo da Sessa asked my permission to make you his wife. Hf has since told me that you have refused him. Is tliis true ? " ' " Yes," she replied, briefly. " Have you thought of what you are doing ? " he asked, evidently trying to repress his impatience. " He is rich, youn^, and noble ; handsome, and well thought of : what more would you have ? " " I don't care for him, sir." " He cares for you ; tliat should satisfy you, Anita. You will learn to like him well enough in time, 1 dare- say. Don't be nonsensical and foolish. You will never have such a chance again. The head of the 46 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. family of Da Sessa is not to be despised. If you marry him, it will be your own fault if you are not one of the greatest ladies at the court of Spain. Yon will have money, jewels, and fine dresses in abundance. You " " Sir, I cannot sell myself for these things," inter- rupted Anita, scornfully ; " I have given Don Alonzo his answer." " But I wish you to reconsider it." " I cannot, sir." " You mean you will not," he retorted angrily. He was an ambitious man, and it was in the power of Da Sessa to assist him in his schemes ; but if his beautiful niece was obstinate in her refusal, he could not expect Alonzo to further his interests. Cost what it might, she must give way. The alliance was necessary to him, and he did not intend to allow his plans to be thwarted by this girl. " Anita," he continued, " you must understand that this matter is settled. I distinctly command you to accept Don Alonzo da Sessa, and I will permit no fur- ther trifling I " " And I distinctly say that I will not accept him ! " replied Anita. " You cannot help yourself ; you must obey me. It is absurd for you to take that tone to me, on whom you are entirely dependent." " If I am dependent on you it is your own fault," SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 47 she answered, with flashing eyes ; " my father had enongli and to spare, they tell me. You, who betrayed him, have robbed me of every single real, and then you dare to tell me that I am dependent on you 1 " This outburst startled Del Rio. " You don't under- stand," he muttered : " I did nothing but my dut_y . ' Anita rose to leave the room, saying, " I understand too well. I know now all that I owe to you." By this time he had recovered himself. " Listen to me a moment 1 " he exclaimed ; '' it will be as well that you sliould understand j'our position. If you again refuse tlie hand of Sefior da Sessa, you shall leave this house for ever." " I would rather be a beggar in the streets than Sefior da Sessa's wife," she answered quickly. Her uncle looked at her steadily, and, dropping his voice, said slowly, " If you do leave this house it shall be for the prison of the Inquisition." Anita turned pale. " You cannot, you dare not be so wicked." " I will not be disobeyed." " And I — do you think that I would marry him from fear ? Nothing that you can do shall move me. I will never be his wife. Do your worst. I know you now for what you are." " My worst 1 Do you know what you are saying, girl ? Yon are brave enough in words ; have you courage to bear imi)risonment, torture, death ? " 48 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. " Yon are trying to frighten me. Yon have no such power over me." " Have I not power ? I have but to swear that you scoffed at the Virgin, or mocked at the priests, and you are lost. The words once spoken, I myself could not save you. You would disappear from the light of day for ever ; your very name would soon be forgotten. Your fate might be guessed, it would never be known." "Even you would scarcely dare to be so cruel. There is a God in heaven." " Anita, do not tempt your fate. I swear to you, by that same God in heaven, that I will not spare you if you disobey me. Go, now ; think over what I have said, and beware how you presume on my mercy. I tell you once more that no power on earth shall save you if you again refuse Da Sessa." She left him, and he flattered himself that his object was gained. He had no mercy, as he had said, but he believed that his threats would bring her to reason. However, as the days went on he began to doubt the success of his experiment, and tried to awaken her fears by sending a priest, Josef Losada, to visit her. This man, in whom he had partially confided, was a member of the Council of Blood, but Del Rio had mis- calculated the character of his instrument ; the priest was a more fanatical Romanist than he had supposed. He not only discovered that Anita had doubts of some of the fundamental doctrines of " the Church " (a fact SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 49 which disconcerted Del Riu's phins), but he refused to see that these might be atoned for by implicit obedi- ence to her uncle's wishes regarding her marriage. No one cared less than Vasco del Rio about the dis- puted points of theology which had raised such a storm throughout the length and breadth of Christendom ; to him they were all alike foolishness, and it had not occurred to him that his niece might possibly have caught the infection of the prevalent " heresies." Unhappily, Losada's investigations proved that she had — when, where, and how, it was difficult to say — and she was by no means submissive and resi)cctful when the priest endeavoured to reclaim her to the bosom of holy " Mother Church " ; indeed she soon managed to rouse the somewhat irritable temper of the reverend father, and henceforth he was eager to treat her as contumacious, and deliver her over to the tender mercies of the Inqiusition. This was by no means what her uncle had intended, but his tool had become unmanageable ; and it seemed likely that whether she consented to marry Alonzo or not she would still be sacrificed as a heretic. Losada, to do him justice, laboured earnestly for her conversion. He read to her, preached to her, and prayed to all the saints in succession for her benefit, by the hour together, and was rewarded only by in- creased obstinacy and irreverence on the part of the object of his zeal. Yet there was compensation for 4 so SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. the disappointment which his ill-success afforded him. If she had returned to her duty through liis exertions, his own conscience would have applauded him, but his conscience alone ; while should he have the lionour of bringing so illustrious a " criminal " to the stake, his zeal against heresy and his indefatigable efforts to suppress it would redound to his credit wherever the name of the " Holy Office " was terrible. The victims were usually taken from among the lower classes, but the death of Anita del Rio would prove to all the world that neither youth, beauty, nor nobility of birth could move the guardians of the purity of religion from the enforcement of their just decrees. She was Spanish, too, and as such her execution would be of sjiecial value in showing the determination of the Inquisitors to root out heresy wherever it existed. Alonzo da Sessa was much alarmed at the ill- omened interest which Josef Losada seemed to feel in Anita. One afternoon he confided his fears to his friend Gonzalo, as they were walking by the side of one of the numerous canals that intersected the neighbourhood. It is time, perhaps, to explain that they were both young Spanish officers of good family, serving under Valdez against the " rebellious " citizens of Leyden. They were at present quartered at Veeneudaal, a little village six or seven miles from the city, under the immediate command of Vasco del Rio, who bore a SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 51 good reputation as a soldier, except tliat, even among his own countrymen, lie was infamous lor his cruelty and rapacity. Alonzo had been alarmed at Losada's frequent visits to Del Ilio's house, and Gonzalo gave him little comfort. " I am afraid," he said, " that there is some plot on foot between Losada and Del Rio. I hope Anita will be careful to give them no oppor- tunity of injuring her. But, poor girl, what chance has she against such a pair of villains as that? Has Del Rio said anytliing to you since you last spoke to her ? " " He told me that he approved of my suit, and assured me that he was confident of my ultimate success." " Ah I then perhaps they are only trying to frighten her ; but it looks bad." "To frighten .her— how?" asked Da Sessa, anxi- ously. " I think they are threatening her with the Inqui- sition." "The Inquisition ! " exclaimed Alonzo, in a tone of horror. " How can that be ? She is as true a Catholic as either you or I." '• Truer, probably," replied Gonzalo. " At least, she very easily might be a truer one than I am. The priests themselves don't believe in their own exploded fables, and how can they expect any one else to do so ? 53 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. But do you know so little of tlic ' Holy Office ' that you think heresy has the only claim to its notice ? The staunchest supporters of the ('hurch would stand a poor chance of being spared if it hap[)ened to suit Losada and his friends to put tliera out of the way." Alonzo was too excited to listen to all this. " Do they dare to say that the Donna Anita del llio is affected, even in the sliglitest degree, with the vile Lutheran heresy ? " he cried. " I did not say that I believed it," expostulated his friend. ''You should scorn to repeat such slanders. I have borne too much from you already. Anita a heretic ! I tell you she is as high above all posKibility of such iniquity as that bit of blue sky is above these flat never-ending fields. They who told you the story are liars. They shall admit that they wronged her basely, or they sliall prove their words with the sword." '' Nonsense, Alonzo. What are you talking of ? You yourself asked me what I knew about her. I had not the slightest intention of being disrespectful to her. She has presumed to doubt the efficacy of the prayers of the saints, or, jjerhaps, she has dared to pity a heretic ; either would be sufficient to con- demn even a girl like her to agony and death — ay, and after death (if the monks are right) to tlie fierce and enduring fires of hell. But, for myself, I have no SOLDIERS OF I.IURRTY. 53 faith in hell, and as little in tlie heaven tliey talk of ; for they tell uh, on tlie one hand, that all is pnrity and happiness tliere, and, on the other, they ask us to believe that half, or more than half, of its inliabitants are chnrchmcn." " Bnt about Anita," asked Alonzo impatiently ; " liow do you know that she is in sucli langer ? " " 1 was waiting? in the ante-room of Del Jlio's house two days ago ; he kept me a long* time, and I was getting very tired, when I heard voices in the next room. Tliey were those of Sefior del ]{io and Padre Losada. 1 listened, Alonzo, for your sake, for I heard tho name of Anita. They spoke quietly at first, but l)y-and-by they grew angry, and then I could hear every word. For some reason, Vasco del Rio is bent upon marrying his niece to you, and had, as I'ar as I could discover, offered her the clioice between you and the Inquisition. To give a sliow of reality to his threats, he ai)pears to have asked i\\(\ co-operation of Losada, wlio, however, lias taken the matter into his own hands, and intends to treat the young lady with the severity that lie pretends to imagine she deserves." " The brute ! " interrupted Alonzo. " And her uncle, will he do nothing to save her ? " " To do him justice, he said what he could, but the priest was obstinate and unreasonable. I do not think he will be satisfied until she is in the power of the Inquisition. It was settled, at last, however, that she S4 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. is to have at least a month's res})ite, during which time her uncle will do his utmost to bring her back to the fold. He, who believes in nothing, is to take upon himself the task which the fanatical Padre has given up as hopeless, and, from my heart, I wish him success. She is too young to die like that." " What can be the motive of that villain ? Why should he wish to hunt lier to death ? " " Who can say ? Zeal, or si)ite, perhaps.** " Spite ! How can she have injured him ? " " To tell the trutli, Alonzo, I think she has spoken a little too plainly. I fear she has been provoked to say what wiser people scarcely dare to think. It is no difficult matter to make a relentless foe of a man like Losada, who is full of unreasonable superstitions and overbearing fanaticism. A sharp ai^fwer, a few words of sarcasm, would be sufficient, and I doubt that Donna Anita has spared him neither." " What can I do ? How shall I save her ? You s])oak as calmly and unconcernedly as if we were only discussing the fate of a dog or a horse ! " " I would help you if I could, but what can we do ? If she is wise, she will save herself. Let her declare her conviction that the priestt^ are right, or let her consent to marry you, and then you can save her, or at least you can try. As it is you can do nothing." " And if she were my wife I could not save her from Losada ! " cried Alonzo. " Nay, but I will ! " he SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 55 continned, passionately ; " if it costs all I possess, if I have to join with William of Orange to do it, 1 will save her if she will trust me ! I ivill save her ! " " You are mad, Alonzo ! Do you think that you are a match for the Inquisition, with its secret agents and the whole power of the empire at its back ? Against her will you cannot help her." " I tell you, Gonzalo, I will stir up the villagers, I will rouse the soldiers, I will join heart and soul with thesi Netherlanders ! If it costs Philip these pro- vinces, I tvill save her I They shall not dare to touch a hair of her head, or they will long remember the vengeance of Alonzo da Sessa I Every pnest, every monk that foils into my hands shall bitterly rue her death. With his own life he shall pay the penalty— I will have mercy upon none of them. But she shall not die ! I will rescue lier from the murderers or die with lier ! " " Hush, hush ! AVhat good would that d to her ? " " I will be revenged on Josef Losada ! Ay, and on Del Rio, too ! " " In the name of all that's reasonable, be quiet, Alonzo 1 If wliat we have said during tliis one short afternoon were overheard, neither your life nor mine would be worth the smoke of yesterday's fire. Your impiisonment, or even your death, would not help her much. She may listen to reason, if you keep cool 56 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. enough to talk reason. It is madness to speak as you have clone." " Then what woukl j-ou advise me to do ? " " Give her one more chance to alter her mind, and if she is obstinate leave her to her fate. If she marries you, Del Rio will save her if possible. If she persists in her folly, neither yon nor he can do more for her. Her blood will be upon her own head." To Gonzalo's great relief, Alonzo did not continue the conversation, for the danger of being overheard was no slight one. Da Sessa determined to take his friend's advice, and to ask Anita once more to marry him — for her own sake, if not for liis ; afterwards he would trust to his own and her uncle's influence with Philip to protect her, even if she declined to give way to Padre Losada's religious prejudices, but ]/»rhaps she might be induced to submit herself to the authority of the Church. Or, if nothing else would save her, he would take her to England, wlierc she could safely avow her belief in the doctrines of the Reformers. Cost what it might, she should not die for her opinions if she would let him save her. He was ready to sacrifice everything, home, wealth, and position, for her sake ; surely she would not be so cruel to herself and to him as to refuse his hel}) in spite of all. On the following day he again presented himself at Del Rio's house, but Anita would not even see him. SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 57 He called again and ap^ain, bnt always with tlie same result, and at last he gave np the attempt as hopeless. Anita regarded him as the cause of her misfortunes, and was very angry with him. The priest continued his persecutions till she was almost desperate, but she had no tliought of submission. If it had been in her power she would have treated him as she had treated Alonzo, but it was not possible. Every two or three days she had to endure a visit from him, and every intervic^w enraged him yet furtlier against her. He hated her, and had determined that she should die as a convert to the infamous doctrines of the so-called " Reformers," and yet of those doctri .«>s she knew little or nothing Slie was doomed to suli'er the mar- tyr's death, unsupported by the martyr's faith. There was no escape for her ; Losada, unknown to Vasco del Rio, h' 1 already denounced her to the (Jouncil of Blood ; but they, unwilling to show severity, had, in consideration of her youth, directed her father con- fessor to make one more efibrt to reclaim her by gentle means before delivering her over to the " secular arm." Losada's last attemi)t to induce her to recant (as he i)erhaps intended) bad merely exasperated lier, and he had left the house, shaking the dust from off his feet, after explaining to her with grim minuteness the terrors of her coming fate. Before him she luid been brave and defiant even to the last, but when he 58 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. was gone the horrors of which he had spoken over- whelmed her. At the time she had scarcely believed him, but now she knew that he had spoken truth. Was it worth while to suffer so much when a few words would save her? Yet her father had died sooner than speak such words. Should she, his daughter, show herself unworthy of him ? Nay, let them do their worst ; her father had died for the truth, and so would she. Losada should not force her to lie, even to save her life. Br- ed th. ew ied bis let th, ie, CHAPTER V. ' blindness to the future ! kindly given That each may fill the circle marked by Heaven." ^HERE is music in the streets of Leyden; gaily dressed people throng the j^ market - place and gather in knots about the churches, whose towers rock to tlie merry clanging and pealing of the bells. There is laughter on all lips, hope in all eyes to-day. Marie is kneeling in the Church of St. Pancras, murmuring prayers of thankfulness, while the soft light, y falling through the richly coloured windows, transfigures her pale face, with its sweet blue eyes and tender mouth, into almost angelic brightness. As she kneels there the notes of an organ ring tlirough the building, and a 59 6o SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. rich voice begins to sing the linndred and twentj^- fourth Psahu. " If the Lord Himself had not been on our side, may Israel now say ; if the Lord Himself had not been on our side, when men rose np against us : They had swallowed ns up quick, when they were so wratlifully displeased at us. . . . But praised be the Lord, who hatli not given us over for a prey unto their teeth. Our soul is escaped even as a bird out of the snare of the fowler ; the snare is broken, and we are delivered. Our help standeth in the name of tlie Lord, who made heaven and earth." The triumphant strain has died away, and now, after a few moments' pause, the pathetic notes of a dirge are wailing sadly among the dim arches and pillars of the cliurch ; for even in her joy Leyden cannot forget those who have passed away, and Marie, still on her knees, is weeping wildly. Scarcely a week has gone by since she laid her darling to rest for ever, and now — and now— Leyden keejis high festival ! Good news has come ! llelief will soon arrive. The dykes are broken down, the flood gates of Rotterdam are open ; soon the waters will reach the city, and her troubles will be over. But it is too late. Hellene is dead, and Marie refuses to be comforted. Yet, strange to say, the soft, slow melody stealing among the aisles hushes her sorrow ; its very sadness soothes her. Unlike the other strain, it touches hti- grief, but touches it gently and tenderly . SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 6l it seems to lier like the sweet sympathy of some dear friend. It leads her to think of the child as she lay calm and peaccfnl, all suffering over, all sorrow im- possible ; and from the sleeping she wanders to the waking — to the glorious waking in the land beyond the grave. Can she not give her up for that ? It is best for her. She is happy, fair, and pure for ever. On earth, had she lived, sorrow might have touched her, sin might have stained her ; but in Heaven she is safe from both. Once more the music dies, and Marie rises from her knees and goes her way. All day bands parade the streets, all day the bells ring gaily, and outside the Spaniards wonder as they listen. Prince William's envoy is entertained by the mag- nates of the town with all the honour they can show him ; and though the viands are neither rich nor delicate, he is content to take the will for the per- formance. At the table he tells liis story, and the grave burghers listen, breathless, to his account of the dangers he has encountered, and tlie liair-breadth escapes that he has had. He tells liis story simply and without exaggera- tion, as only a brave man can. But the perils he has dared were real and terrible, and his hearers tremble as they learn what he has risked to bring them hope and the Prince's message. 62 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. It had been no easy matter even to pass through the Spanish lines unseen and unsuspected, but he had done yet more. He brought them news of a proposed attack upon the town, which was to take phice during the dark ant silent hour of midnight, by whicli Valdez hoped to render William's labours futile. Upon many points at once this attack was to be made. The hostile general was sanguine of success, for he expected to surjn-ise his worn-out and weakened foe; but, uuhapjjily for his plans, the Prince's disguised messenger put the burghers on their guard, and they were in perfect readiness to receive him when he came. The envoy brought good news to all, but to Albrecht van Hessfeldt he brought a special message also, from the brother whom he had believed to be dead. It was only a few words of affection, and a promise to be with them soon, in his old hopeful style. Had he forgotten the vision of Utrecht ? Albrecht wondered. He questioned the messenger eagerly. " How had Bertrand escaped from Mookerheyde ? Where was he now ? What was he doing ? " But the man could tell him little. "It was only by chance," he said, " that he gave me this errand. I was speaking of my journey hither and lie overheard. I do not know him except by name." The streets were quiet again when Albrecht returned home. Marie was very weary, lying asleep and dream- ing with a happy smile on her face. She dreamt not SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 63 of death and disease and misery, not of starvation, not of the dreadful scenes she had lately witnessed ; but of her lost child, living and merry as of old, and of Leyden, joyous and happy as when her husband brought her home a bride. Suddenly she started and awoke. Albrecht stood beside her, spying softly, " Marie ! Marie ! 1 would not have disturbed you if it had not been to tell good news." " "What is it, Albrecht ? Has help come already ? " " No ; not yet. It is that Bertrand is not dead. He is with the Prince at Rotterdam." " Oh, Albrecht ! I am very glad. Perhaps things will be better now. There seems more hope at last." " Yes 1 yes 1 " muttered Albrecht, " my time is com- ing, after all. I am to have the promised vengeance ; but, Marie, it cannot last for long. We must school ourselves to bear misery and to face death, for both will surely come " ; and his face grew dark in the August twilight. " Is there no hope, Albrecht ? " cried Marie, sadly. "I do not care for vengeance. That will not help us." " No. We are doomed. There is no hope, Marie." " I cannot believe it, Albrecht ! If ever war was just and right, this war is so. How can we tell ? That strange battle in the clouds at Utrecht may have been the work of demons to terrify us. Or you may have read its meaning wrongly. Our Lord in heaven 64 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. Is just and faithful ; He cannot break His word. He has promised to answer those who call npou Him ; and, Albrecht, have we not cried to Him for help ? Can it be possible that He will, at last, forsake ns ? " " It is not all prayer that receives its desired answer, Marie," said Albrecht gloomily. " Perhaps not ; yet I hope, I trust, I pray for this an&wer still. Is not help already on the way ? Oh ! if Holene were still alive." " I thank God that she is dead. Can you wish her back again to life in Leyden now, when our last morsel of bread is spent and help is still far away ? We have been wretched for many weeks, Marie, but the worst is yet to come. The next few days (even if they are few, for our friends will have hard work to reach us) will try the endurance of the strongest, the courage of the bravest. Starvation is not our only danger ; there is daily fear of treachery ; some of the ])eople are already Ijegiuning to clamour to Van der Werf to make terms with the Spaniards." " But, Albrecht, they seemed content to-day." " To-day they were excited by Prince William's message ; to-morrow they will tliink of their hunger and their misery, and they will again cry out to us to open the gates ; and every day the clamour will grow louder, till at last some will save themselves by treach- ery ; for we cannot hold the city against Valdez with- out and a mob within." SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. " Oh, Albrocht, what sliall we do? " 65 " We can do nothing ; we ranst wait. Onr Prince is trying hard to save uh, and we innnt have patience." Marie was silent for a few seconds, then said falter- ingly, " Albrecht, should we not do well to make terms with Valdez before it is too late ? Even that would be l)etter than waiting till he forces his wfiy into the town, or is let in bv treacherv." " Nay, Marie ; we must fight to the last ! " replied her hnsband, frowning. " They might promise what they chose ; but, once in their power, we should suffer torture and indignities more horrible than aught we have yet endured. Besides, it would be base to William ; we liave promised to hold out for three mouths, and I for one will not consent that we should break our word. Sooner than that we will set the city on fire and die within it. The Spaniard shall not set foot inside the wall until three montlis be past ; ay, and not then, please Heaven ! Desperation shall arm us, and the strength of despair is irresistible." Once more the dawning hope was crushed out of Marie's heart. She had tried to believe in the efficacy of prayer, she had tried to rest herself on the " mercy of the Merciful " ; but when she spoke to Albrecht the shadow of his hopelessness fell over her, and, like him, she was inclined to turn her back upon the few gleams of sunshine that illumined their hard lot ; 66 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. though, unlike him, she gleaned no comfort from the dark prospect of coming vengeance. The briglit summer day was followed by an nnnsually dark night ; but so much the better for the purpose of the besiegers. They silently pre])ared themselves for the encounter, left the camp, and reached the foot of the wall. Thev intended the sur- prise to be complete, and for several days elaborate preparations had been made to avoid the stir and bustle at the last moment, which might have served as a warning to the watchful citizens. Valdez had divided his men into four companies, each under the command of a distinguished soldier. The first three divisions he had ordered to take up positions at certain weak places in the defences of the northern and western walls. With the fourth under his own immediate command, he designed to make an attack on the great gate of the city, intending by this means to draw the attention of the townspeople from the threatened portions of the walls, expecting that thus his forces would be allowed to effect an easy entrance. His scheme was well laid, and but for the timely warning of William's messenger must almost certainly have been successful. The preliminaries of his plan were also well executed. The first three companies of soldiers had gained their positions in silence, and imagined that their presence was unsuspected, when Valdez made his attack upon the gate. His proceed- SOLDIERS OF UliERTV. 67 mrrn were not silent, for his intention was to lead the besieged to snppose that his whole force was concen- trated npon the one point. His project was favoured by the darkness, rendering it difficult i'or those on the walls to estimate the numbers of tlie attacking party. Meanwhile, the Netherlanders had not been idle. Before nightfall they were in readiness at tlieir posts, waiting in absolute stillness and silence for the struggle which miglit decide the fate of Leyden. They allowed the Spaniards to gather in their places ; but as soon as the great bell of the town announced the commencement of the attack upon tlie gate, the defenders of the city waited no longer. Suddenly they appeared upon the wall, showering down huge stones and scalding water on the ambuscades huddled in the shadow waiting for the signal to attack. Tlie surprise was complete, but on the oth^r side to that which had been intended. For a moment the Spaniards were lontbunded at the course events had taken. They turned, and would have fled ; but only for a moment. Soon their leaders rallied them, and brought them again to the attack. They were determined to succeed, and some even got a footing on the wall, but only to meet their doom. Though brave and experienced soldiers, they had been disconcerted and unnerved by the failure of their plan of surprise ; but the fight was long and desperate. 68 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. It was not until the east was grey that Valdcii drew off liis army, chagriuod and angry at his non- success. Albrecht van Hessteldt had done good service on the western wall, where the conflict was hottest. He had no fear for himself and no mercy for his foe. His fierce spirit animated his men, and nowhere was tlie carnage more dreadful than at the ])lace wliere Van HessfeMt held command, in tlie post of honour and of danger — the weakest point of all. Perhaps for that very reason the Spanish onset was most obstinate there ; again and again the leader, a thin, grey-haired, fierce-eyed man, led his followers to the attack. Once he almost succeeded in scaling the wall, but he was forced back at last, after a desperate hand-to-hand fight with Albrecht himself. They were well matclied in strength and courage and fierce entliusiasm, and (alas 1 that I must say it) in relentless, merciless cruelty to tiieir enemies. The Spaniard was cruel by nature ; Albrecht was cruel in his tliirst for vengeance, yet for once he did show mercy, and it was to the pitiless leader himself. They were, as I have said, well matched in other respects, but his position gave Albrecht the advantage. He was :d)ove upon the wall, the other was at the head of the scaling ladder, hooked into the masonry, and as they fought it shook and swung most perdously beneath his weight. At last, in aiming a heavy blow SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 69 at Van Hessteldt, be ovtM'balanced himself ; but catch- ing at the ladder as he tell, he dropped his sword and hung defenceless in mid-air. Below him, in the first cold light of morning, he could cee a heap of jagged blocks of stone. He looked down, and feared to lose his hold, for to fall upon the rough and splintered pile below meant almost certain death. He tried to scramble back to his place upon the ladder, but he was wearied with the recent encounter, and stiff with age and bruises. Above stood Van Ilessfeldt with one foot on the ladder, and his sword i-aised to stiike the fatal blow. The old inau's hours were mnnbered. He gave some (piick, impatient orders to his men, but they seemed to be either careless or afraid, and they sciu'cely tried to save him. Albrecht bent forward, when suddenly a young and noble-looking t^paniard a])peared out of the grey mist that hung over the scene. " Help, men, help ! " he cried ; '' to the rescue ! look to your captain, Sefior del Rio ! " His words were enough. Van Hessfeldt stepped back upon the wall, and stood "s\".th the point of his sword sunk to the earth, waiting. His face was grave and stern as ever ; he watched his enemy intently, but made no further attempt to hinder his escape. The !Sj)aniard sprang up the ladder and fearlessly assisted Del Rio to gain a safer position, Init Albrecht still stood (juietl} watching, and deliberately allowed 70 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. tliem to reach tlie ground in safety. His thoughts of vengeance seemetl to be forgotten. His antagonist was not so generous ; lie snatched a musket from a soldier near at hand, and fired upon his chivalrous foe. His aim was good, but, quick as thought, his companion knocked up the muzzle of his gun, and the bullet passed over the Netherlander's head. " What are you thinking of, Senor da Sessa ? " cried \)q\ Rio roughly. " The man is a rebel and a heretic ; he well deserves to die ! " But Da Sessa turned carelessly away, saying, " He has just spared us. I would not liave it said that the Dutch know better than the (Spaniards how to be generous and cliivalrous, even to their foes." In spite of his annoyance Don Vasco was too prudent to forget, even in tlie heat of battle, to whom he was sj)eaking, so he said no more ; content rather to accept the slight to his character and the insubordination to his authority as a sui)erior officer, than to throw difficulties in the way of tlie alliance on whicii he luul set his lieart. The fight lasted a few moments longer ; tlien Valdez drew his forces together and returned to the cam]>, having sufiered severely in the night's engagement. The citizens lost fewer men, but they could ill spare one of their brave defenders, for even at first the garrison had been too small to adciied to heretics. She tried to forget it, but could not. Every word that lie Jiad spoken seemed burnt into her memory. How could she bear it ? Humiliation, degradation, ayony, mental and bodily ! No ; she would not bear it. She would escape. She would not wait for Padre Losada's tender mercies. Yet what escape was possible ? She thought of Alonzo da Sessa, and his generous, faithful love. But she had deliberately shut that door of escape with her own hands. A month earlier, sub- mission to her uncle would have saved her, but now she had to satisfy Losada. And he would have little more compunction in martyring Da Sessa's wife than Del Rio's niece. It might involve Alonzo in lier ruin. No ; she had persistently refused him when she had been comparatively prosperous ; slie had no riglit now to sacrifice him because she was in danger of death and liad some vague hope that he might possibly save her. Was there no other wa^^ ? How could there be another way ? A lonely girl in u hostile country, what possible chance had she against the terrible Incjnisition, with all its secret machinery? SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. n And yet she did dream of escape. She rose, opened a concealed drawer iu a cabinet in her room, and took out of it a bundle of letters yellow with age. She looked over them carefully and hopefully. It was only within tlie last three months that she had found these letters, and from tJiem she had gleaned all she knew (and it was very little) of tha Reformed doctrines. They were chiefly from her " heretic " father to her mother; but she had never seen them until lately, when she liad discovered them by accident. She had been very young at the time her father died, but she had been much attached to liim. The manner of his death had been concealed from her, and she had been brought up as a Romanist, but his letters soon destroyed the effect of her earlier training, and the story of his fate made a deep impression on her. From tJie moment of her obtaining })ossession of the hidden l)acket she was lost to the Church of Rome. Her mother had lived and died a Papist ; a weak woman, unable to make up her mind, she had long halted between the two opinions, but the death of her husband removed the only influence which had been on the side of the Reformed religion, and for the last three or four years of her life she had formed her ideas on the model of Padre Losada's. She remembered her husband with affection, but she had been taught by his murderers to regard his opinions as so wicked and so dangerous that she forgave their crime on the 76 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. ground of its necessity. It was strange that she liad dared to keep Ids letters ; perhaps she had forgotten or mislaid them ; certainly Losada had no idea tliat they were still in existence, or he would have insisted on their immediate destniction. Her mother had been dead for nearly six years when Anita found the packet which was to exercise so great an influence over her. Padre Josef was puzzled to discover how she had received the infection of hercsv. Since her childhood slie had betii rmder his own supervision in spiritual matters, and he was certain slie had not come in contact with anv contaminating influence since the time of Jier fatlier's death. He took refuge at last in the idea tliat Anita's lieterodoxy was either spontaneous or hereditary, Ijut this consideration was discouraging to the good man in his ettbrts to reclaim or exterminate the erring. If the disease was liable to reappear thus in after generations, what hope was there of ever bringing it to an end ? The work of the fai'hful servjints of the Church would be practically futi'e. Anita was still uncertain as to her father's fate when she had read all his letters told her, but from her maid (an old woman who had served her mother before her) she learnt the rest, and from that time she could not endure the sight of either Losada or her uncle. In character she much more nearly resembled her SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 71 father than her mother. She was impulsive, affection- ate, truthful, and strong of will, and it seemed that lier father's qualities were to bring upon her her father's fate — unless she could escape. These letters seemed to j)oint out a possible way, but one so full of danger that she feared to try it. At this moment her meditations were interrupted. A servant entered bearing an urgent message from Da Sessa, entreating her to see him. Anita hesitated, and then gave the required permis- sion. She would tell him all ; she would not, she could not, marry him, but she would explain her whole position to him, and perhaps he might advise her what to do. She knew at least that he would not be- tray her, and, alas for her 1 he was her only friend in Veenendaal except one or two of her uncle's servants. Da Sessa entered the room liastily, and his face was pale and agitated. He scarcely waited for tlie door to close before he began, "Have you reconsidered your decision, Anita? Will yon be my wife ?" " No, never ! " she said firmly. " Do not ask me to change my mind." " But, Anita ! for jour sake, if not for mine, listen for one moment ! " he cried. " Senor da Sessa, I cannot answer you differently " ; but he fancied that her tone was regretful, and he spoke again, " Anita, will you not even try to care a little for me ? " 78 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. " No," slie snid, " I dare not promise even to try to care for yon." " I say again — for yonr own sake — Anita ! Anita ! let me save you. Do you know what Losada is threat- ening ? Have pity on yourself 1 Spare me ; I cannot, I will not see you die I Oh ! Anita, lo yon prefer death, death by the Inquisition, to life with me ? " His voice was reproacliful in its grief and j)ain, and Anita pitied him at last. " Sefior, nothing that you can do will save me now," she replied. " There is no time. To-night I must escape, if I am to escape at all. To-morrow I shall be beyond all hope. Padre Josef said that they would fetch me before noon." She spoke so quietly that Alonzo scarcely realised what her words meant. '* Who ? Where ? " he asked. " 1 don't know where they send their prisoners : it matters very little ; I do not intend to wait until they come. 1 shall leave this place to-night." " But where can you go ? " asked Alonzo. " The ports are watched, even if yon could reach them. You would be safe nowhere in Holland or Spain. If you once leave Veenendaal, you will be in equal danger from Dutch and Spanisli. Believe me, fliglit is worse than useless." " It is certain death to stay here." " Listen to me, and I will save you yet — yes, and I will ask for nothing in return. By morning I will put SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 79 you safe beyond Losadii's r('uc]i ; I will tnke you to my annt at BrngeH. She will hide yon until T can find nieauR to force these priests to take back tlieir lying words. Or, better still, come with me now into the village, take refuge at my house, and no one will dare molest you. Anita, do not refuse me this small thing ? ('Orae, and I will protect you against all tlie world, if need be. Come, and I swear to you that T will ask for no reward. I will trust you to think kin^ily of me, if you can, and tliat shall be all." " Senor, it is most generous, noble, and like your- self, but it cannot be. Why should you risk your life for me ? " " I need not risk my life, though you know that for you I would gladly lay it down. But 1 have my own men about me. I have wealth and influence. It is no idle boast, Anita ; I think they dare not anger me. Trust yourself to my protection, and I will keep you safe. 1 ivill ! even if to do it I have to join with this William of Nassau and tlie Netherlanders. I am in earnest ; they shall not dare to touch you ! " Anita shook her head ; she doubted his power to save her. It was a wild scheme and a hopeless one. Besides, it would involve Alonzo's ruin with almost equal certainty, whether it failed or succeeded. ''Senor," she said, "T would not have you rebel against your king and become a traitor to your country for my sake," 8o SOLDIERS OF URERTY. His face darkened. " I would do more for }'on I Besides, if ray king and my country choose to suj)j)ort tlie priests iu tlie tyranny that they are exercising over good (Catholics, as well as heretics, they cannot call me a traitor for trying to defend the innocent from oppression." " In this matter I am not innocent, Seiior da Sessa ! 1 am what they call a lieretic." She lioped that now he wouhl be willing to leave her to her fate. " I hate tlie false creed of these blood-stained monks I " " I am no theologian, Anita ; I am a soldier (God forgive me if 1 liave used my sword on the side of injustice), unused to argument, and unable to decide on the merits of different creeds. From this time 1 will call no man ' heretic,' let him believe what he will." He was silent for a minute ; then added quickly and incoherently, " Yon shall not stay here to be murdered, Anita I If you will not give me leave to save you, I swear, by all the saints in heaven, that I will do so against your will. You shall not ]d friendship, my father contrived his escape, and his life was sr^^ed. I^ut a servant, in whom he had been obliged to confide, betrayed my father to his own brother, my uncle Vnsco, and he had the baseness to give him up as a heretic. You know, or yon can imagine, what his fate would be." She stopped for a moment, but (juickly recovered herself, and added, " Now you see why I would go to Levd'^ii, Seigneur van Hessfeldt lived there, and I can prove the truth of my story by my father's letters. My father thought him just and humane, and 1 do not think he \yould refuse to shelter and p otect me, if J could but reach him. It is, at least, my only hope." " It is not your only hope. Trust me instead. Hovy could you make your way into Leyden ? And if you could, do yon not know th'it the city is starving ? It must fall in a week or tsvo at furthest ; what mercy could you expect then ? Lot me help you. Anita, Anita ! do not throw vour Ufe awav rather than accept help from me. Yon know that I love you ; you know that I would die to save you. Do not treat me so unkindly, cruelly, unjustly I " But Anita had schooled herself to bear this. For a I j I!! r SOLDiERS OF LIBERTY. B3 moment sLe was grave and silcMi, for she was obliged to admit that he was right ; she had been mad to tliink of scekii'.g safety l)y going to Leyden. By-and- by, she said slowly, " i will go, then, to Prince William, at Rotterdam ; I believe that he will befriend me, and, at the worst, I can but die I " Alonzo tried to alter her decision, but in vain. Wild as this scheme seemed, it was at least as good as any other that had been suggested ; and at last he gave up his plan, and endeavoured to help her to take the easiest and safest way of putting her own into execu- tion. It was a terrible risk, but the danger of doing nothing was still greater. They finally arranged that Anita and her attendant, Isabella, wliom they had taken into consultation, were to assume the dress of Dutch peasant women. Isabella refused to be left behind, though her mistress had generously urged her to remain, in spite of her own great need of her companionshii). Alonzo promised to provide horses, and to escort them some distance on their way. They were to meet him on the outskirts of the village as soon as it was dark. " Can you find the way to Rotterdam ? " he asked anxiously. " I think so. At least, I can inc^uire it. I can speak enough Dutch for that." " Then, good-bye, for the ])resent. I will wait for you at the three large willows on the Rosenwinkel h \ 84 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. road. Be sure to come '"ivly, for there is no time to lose," lie said, as lie was leaving the room. " Take care ! '" exclaimed Anita. '' Ivemember my father's fate, and let no one discover that you have helped me." "I will he careful. There is no tlanger." And before she could say more he was gone. (JHAPTER VII. 'And I . . . go forth companionless, Anil fl:(! days darkon round me." rpHEiii^rht was stormy and dark; not a star was to he s (> e n in all the cloud y ' sky, hut so in n c li the 1)'^*"" hetter for Anita's plans. Alonzo waited in the shadow of the willows for .^^•:2 tlian an hour, but still she did not He began to feel anxious, the time seemed so very long. 8uj)|)0se 85 It. come, 86 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. Vasco del Rio had discovered her purpose — suppose Isabella had proved treacherous — suppose that they had lost their way in the darkness — suppose But here they were at last ! No ; it was only the wind rustling the leaves of the trees. What if Losada had got to know of her intended flight ? But as the thought rose in his mind, two cloaked and niuftled figures appeared out of the darkness, and the taller one was certainly Anita. " We were unable to leave the house for some time after we ought to liave started," she explained. " I am sorry that we have kept you in the wind and rain so long." " I was afraid that some misfortune had happened to you," he said, as he hel])ed her to mount lier horse. Tney travelled (piickly for the first five or six miles, but beyond that the roads were bad, in some places being flooded, and they were forced to proceed more slowly. They were also obliged to make a considerable circuit to avoid passing through the little hamlet of Rosenwinkel, which was held by the Spaniards ; but, in spite of all mischan;es, they were within ten or twelve miles of Rotterdam when they met with their first serious difficulty. In front stretched a long group of willows, to the right lay a vast extent of flooded i)asturo- land, and in places the water had overflowed the path which they would be obliged to travel. Their horses f SOLDIERS OF IJRERTY. 87 s])liislied and stuiuljltHl ; tlie road was liard to follow; and, to their dismay, as soon ae they reached the drier land beyond the trees, they saw a party of men, not far away, witli lighted torches in their hands. They were soldiers, hnt whether Dutch or Spanish they could not tell, and the presence of either was danger- ous in their present predicament. Judging by their lights, they were at present stationary ; hnt how long they would remain so was (juestiomible. If they went on thoy might blunder into the midst of them ; and if thev turned liack thev would ])i-obablv be over- taken. Anita was the first to recover herself. " Senor," she said, " we must ])art here. Thank you for your company so far." " I cannot go and leave you here alone." " It would be the wisest and safest plan. I am sure you had better turn back with the horses at once, and Isabella and I will go into the woods behind here and hide until they have ])assed. Be- sides," she added, " it is time that yon returned now in any case, or you will not reach home before daylight." " At least, stay one moment, while I find a hiding place for you. I cannot leave you in this way." 80 saying, he s])rang from his horse and disappeared in the darkn-jss. He was not long away. "There are fewer trees iu>re than I had li(»ped," he i:i' 88 SOLDIERS OF rJFF.RTV said. " I have found a place tliat I tliiiik may do ; hilt I am afraid it, is very wet all abont here. I wish I could have discovered a better ])lace." It /ni.s wet, as Anita discovered as soon as her feel touched the ground — in fact, the mud was almost ankle deep. About ten yards from the road stood a large clum]) of trees, growing curiously close together, with their arms crossing and re-crossing in every direction. Across the roots of one of them Alonzo liad ])laced a few sticks, making a rude, but not uncomfortable seat, to which the great trunk behind formed a back. U])on it he had sj)read a thick, heavy cloak, which he had worn to keep oft' the rain ; but, in s])ite of his exertions, it scarcely looked a pleasant ]>lace in which to pass the remainder of the night. He said something of the kind whon he took them to it, but Anita was only surprir^ed that lie sliould have been abh^ in the dark- nei*s, to find so good a retreat. ^ " Now," she said, '' once more 1 must ask y(m to leave us." " I will go, though [ cannot bear to leave you here ; but " he sto]|)]>ed, and liesitaTed. then added quickly, " I want to give you this first." He put into her hand a purse of gold. " No I don't refuse it. Yon will need it, and 1 have no use for it ; 1 have move than 1 shall ever spend. Surely you will not refuse me this little thing, this very little tl.ing ? You would take it, I SOLDIERS OF UBEKTY. 89 am cortaiii, if yon knew how nincli ]»l('asuvo it would / f ^/,. '/ -^ ¥ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14S80 (716) 873-4503 >'^' 94 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. said, '* do as I tell you sind come with me." So saying, she made her way out of the wood, on the side nearest the Dutchmen ; she walked (|uickly, but made no attempt to conceal herself. As she expected, the Spanish horsemen soon caught sight of them, and recognised her. She heard them shout to her to stop, and her face turned pale, but she went on still more quickly. The road was difficult, and the Spaniards' horses were plunging in the mud ; in another moment they would reacli the drier ground, and would overtake them without an eiFort. "They are mad to think that they can escape," muttered Losada to Del Rio ; " perhaps they think we do not recognise them." He did not see the party of Netherlanders towards which Anita was hastening, for the trees concealed them from his view. " Make haste, Isabella," said Anita, as soon as she saw that the Dutchmen had noticed them ; " we must run." •^ They did run, but the Spaniards gained on them fast. Anita cried out for hel]) in Dutch, but, till their pursuers came in sight, the Netherlanders did not move ; then their captain gave a hasty order, and his men rushed forward to meet the Spaniards, just as they came up with Anita and her maid. There was a short skirmish, but Del Kio's party was SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 9S far outnumbered, and ho was forced to retreat without his niece. Indeed, he narrowly escaped being made prisoner himself, and Losada received a wound from which he never recovered. He had been particularly determined not to permit his victim to escape ; and when he saw that they would not be alio ved to take her back with them, lie struck at her furiously with a heavy mace that he carried. The blow would probably have been fatal, but that a ferocious-looking Zealander, seeing her danger, warded off the stroke, and smote the churcliman so hard upon his head that he fell from his horse. A Spanish soldier dragged him from among the tramjjling feet of the combatants, and he was borne away half dead. His countrymen followed, urging their wearied steeds through the mud and water, beyond which lay their only path to safety. The Zealanders would willingly have pursued them, but tliey had other work to do, and were thus obliged to let them escape. They had waited all night long to intercept certain important despatches, which, they had been informed, would be sent by this route to Alva; but they were obliged to return without having accomplished their errand. Their ship lay waiting for them some two miles away, but the main body of the fleet had reached the " Land-i,v.ueiding," a great dyke within five miles of Leyden, which they had hitherto been unable to pass. 96 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. Auittt asked to be allowed to proceed to Rotterdam ; but the leader of tlie party wlilch had protected them took no notice of her entreaties, and hurried her on in quite a different direction. The man was not uncivil, but treated them as prisoners. He would not hear a word of ex|>lanation ; neither would he say what he intended doing with them. Altogether their position was scarcely more enviable than it had been during the previous night, but it would have been still worse had her uncle's party overtaken them when they were alone. All present danger of the Inquisition was over, whatever else might lie before them. ■-:'^ CHAPTER VIIl. " They arc dangerous guides, the feelings." " XTT"^^ ^^^ you? and why do j'on wish to go ^^ to Rottenhim ? " The question wan asked by a good-looking, soldierly man, past the prime of life, but vigorous and keen- witted as ever. His features were stern, and the expression of his face appeared to be entirely under its owner's control. Anita and her maid were now on board the Avenger, one of the largest of the vessels under Boisot's command, and were undergoing a severe cross-examination from its captain. Count van Sittart. " My name is Anita del Rio, and I wish to see the Prince of Orange," she replied. " This is my servant." 97 ' f 98 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. "Anita del Rio ! Then yon are Spanish. Why have yon left yonr friends ? What is yonr errand to tlie Prince of Orange ? " Anita told her story, to which Connt vau Sitturt listened with dignified politeness. When she had finished, he turned to one of the men behind him, saying, " Will you tell Captain van Hessfeldt that I should like to see him for a few minutes ? " Anita had not expected to find her father's friend with the relieving army, yet it was possible that it might be he. Nothing further was said until Captain van Hessfeldt arrived. His face was a pleasant one, with its good-humoured, mischief-loving dark eyes, and well-cut features ; bnt Anita was disappointed in his appearance, for he was much tco j'^oung to be her father's friend. " It is possible. Captain van Hessfeldt," began the (*ount, " that you may be abl to prove the truth of this young lady's story. She says that her father rendered an important service to a gentleman of the name of Arend van Hessfeldt. That, I believe, was your father's name." Bertrand bowed in evident surprise. There was a certain incongmity between the Dutch peasant's dress and the face and manner of their wearer. " Then," he exclaimed, turning to Anita, " your father's name must have been Hernando del Rio ? " *' Yes, it was," she answered, f SOLDIERS OF LIRERTV » " And it seems," went on (Jonnt van 8ittart, " that she herself is now in danger from the Inquisition. She asks to be allowed to proceed to Rotterdam ; she wisliea to see the Prince. But, by-the-bye, Captain van Hessfeldt, should you be able to recognise Seflor del llio's handwriting ? " Bertrand examined the letters of Anita's packet closely, and a little doubtfully ; at last he took one small scrap of paper from the rest. It was unsigned, but was addressed to Hernando del Rio. Its contents were unimportant. " T should know this writing," he said ; " it is ray father's." " Don't ])e in too much hurry, Bertrand," remarked his superior officer, gravely, but in an undertone not intended for Anita's ears. " Appearances are greatly against them. Why should this young lady be so anxious to gain audience of the Prince ? Her story sounds improbable." "I cannot doubt, sir, that she is Del Rio's daughter. Her knowledge of my father's story, her possession of his handwriting, would go far towards proving tlie truth of the account she has given you." "To my mind thoy do not conclusively prove it. There are many ways in which she might have possessed herself both of the facts and of the letters." " But what could be her object in attempting to deceive us ? It is unlikely that she would run in such SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. (laiififer, and take so much tronblo, nnlens alie was a])solntely obliged." " In past times, Bertrand, there have been women who had as little dread of martA'rdom as men. This girl seems brave enough, and, for aught I know, may be fanatical enough to seek renown on earth and reward in heaven by helping her king and her Church to rid themselves of the chief obstacle in their way. Were William dead, they think their victory would be » easv. " But do yon mean to say that they would send a woman, a girl, on such an errand ? CJount van Sittart, I will not Ijelieve it I They couldn't be so cowardly ; she couldn't be so wicked, so cruel ! " " I have known cowardly priests and cruel women," replied the elder man. " I assure you, Bertrand, that they will spare no pains to deprive us of our head ; and it behoves us to be careful. Better err on the side of safety than sacrifice a life so precious to sentimental considerations." " But how could she do such a thing ? " " Those Spanish priests have secret poisons which a girl could use as easily as a man." Van Hessfeldt turned to look at the erect, graceful figure, and calm, grave face of the Spanish girl. He could not believe in the possibility of an assassin's appearing in such a guise. " Sir," he said, " I am convinced that she is what she represents herself to be." SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. toi *' Aud if blie is, she still may be u more daiigerouH enemy to the peace and liberties of Holland than Duke Alva himself. She may be Del Rio's daughter, 1 dare say she is, but, until she can give a better account of herself, she shall not, with my leave, proceed to Rotterdam." " What, then, is she to do ? " asked Bertraud im- patiently. " I cannot but think your suspicions unjust. Van Zandt told me that she aud the woman who is with her were running away from a party of Spanish soldiers, and that they cried out to him for help. Is it likely that if her story were untrue, they would have needed to do that ? " " It is not impossible that they might have chosen to do it to give colour to their story. Remember, thivt if she is Hernando del Rio's daughter, she is also Vasco del Rio's niece, and of all the bloodthirsty villains In Philip's service, he is the worst. You must not forget tluit, by her own showing, it is in his house that she has lived, it is he who has brought her up, and it is by no means unlikely that she may have been more influenced by her uncle than by her father." " Shall you send her back to him then ? " asked the young man half sarcastically. " No, I shall not do that. If she is innocent, it would be purposeless cruelty ; if she is guilty, it would be merely giving her a second chance to execute her plans. tot SOLDIEKS OF LIBERTY. I will do iiutiiiiig till I 8eu what Admiral Buisot tbiiikK about her." They had b«'gnii to talk more loudly now, and at thin point Anita atepi^d forward, saying, " Senor, you compliment my courage at the exjjcnae of my discre- tion. I think that your Prince William would have heard me more fairly ; but even if you will not permit me to continue my journey to Rotterdam, be merciful, and do not give me up to the Inquisition. Kather slay us yourselves than that." Count van Sittart made no answer for many minutes. At last he said, " If I spare you, will you jirove your sincerity ? " " How, Sefior ? " " You know on what errand we are ])0und ? '" Anita bent her head. " Furnish me, then, with information concerning the plans of your countrymen ; tell me what they })ropose to do should Leyden still hold out ; give me an account (a full account) of the fortifications at Veeuendaal, and I will set you free."' Veenen a favour to my- self, grant them life and freedom ; and 1 swear by the Heavon above, I swear by the name my fathers bore, and never sullied or dishonoured, that I will answer with my own life for fault or treachery of theirs I " " Freedom 1 cannot grant them, Bertrand ; life I will, as you will take it upon yourself to be surety for them. Until we reach ueyden you must consider them as under your charge. This is no time to examine into the rights of their case." " Perhaps my brother may help to prove their inno- cence I " exclaimed Bertrand. " I trust he may." Then turning to Anita he said, "For the present, lady, you are safe. Captain van Hessfeldt has interceded for you, but you must con- sider yourselves as his prisoners ; and should you attempt treachery, or try to escape, he will be held answerable." " Captain van Hessfeldt, 1 thank you for your I06 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. kiiidueBs to us. It will not be «ay fault if you suft'er for it." " I trust you, Seuora. I am glad to be able to show my remembraucc of the debt I owe to your father." Count van Sittart dismissed them with cold polite- ness, and, for some minutes after they had gone, liis face was grave and anxious ; but by-aiid-by an ex- pression of amusement passed over it, and at last lie laughed outright, muttering to himself, " Upon my word, I think the boy is right. She does not look like a spy or an assassin. I will watch her, and should things go well, she shall hear no more of the matter. In the meantime, Bertrand will take care of her ; 1 did well to make him her jailer. He ought to thank me for giving him so rare an opportunity of exhibiting the character of a gentle and chivalrous knight." Van Hessfeldt's boat, the Star of Hope., was a small flat-bottomed vessel, manned chiefly by Zealanders, or " sea beggars," as they called themselves. Bertrand did his utmost to make his prisoners comfortable ; and they were too thankful to be in such good hands to have any inclination to complain of the inevitable hardships of their position. They were kindly and considerately treated by the rough and savage men who formed the crew, even though it soon became known that they were both Spaniards. Count van Sittart himself occasionally sent small comforts and delicacies to the cajjtives oa SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 107 board the Star of Hope ; while Bertraud could not do euongh to prove his gratitu:'e to Anita's father. Nevertheless, in spite of all the kindness shown to her, Anita was not happy. It was terrible to see so much misery and bloodshed. For many days the fleet lay motionless, its way blocked by the Land- scheiding. At last the great dyke was taken, and a path for the rising waters was broken tlirough it ; but many obstacles and mucii hard figliting still lay be- tween Boisot and starving Leyden. Both Spaniards and Netherlauders professed Christianity, but its great law of mer^iy and forgiveness was little understood ; they fought more like wild beasts than civilised men. In the fierce hand-to-hand contests on the crumbling dykes, barbarous cruelties were perpetrated by both sides alike, and quarter was neither asked nor given. For Anita, who was bound to the one country by ties of blood, and to the other by those of gratitude, the struggle (so dreadfr' -.i itself) had a peculiar horror. She could not wisli success to the Spaniards, tliough they belonged to lier motherland, for their victory would mean death to the heroic citizens, and worse than death for herself; yet they wore still her country- men, sj)eaking the language that she had heard from infancy, and she could not bear to see them ruth- lessly slaughtered by her protectors. Bertrand did what he might to shield her from all sights and sounds of horror, but his power was small. His duty to his 11 io8 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. country led him into scenes which he would jrladly have spareJl her, but it liad been found impossible to make other arrangements for her safety, and she was still under his care. The Spanish forces lar outnumbered the relieving army, and there was always the terrible ])ossibility of defeat, Anita had much cause for anxiety on her own account, for should the Dutch be defeated her fate and Isabella's would be decided. She knew that should they fall into the hands of the Spaniards, no torture or humiliation could be devised which would satisfy the cruelty of their persecutors. The bitterest agony, the most painful death, would be still too good for heretics and reuegades. But now, should it be her lot to suffer martvrdom for the faith of the Reformers, she would not die in ignorance of its principles and hopes. She had learnt much of the grand truths for which her father hud died. She was beginning to love and trust the Saviour who was leading her, in His own time and way, out of darkness into His glorious light. in CHAPTER IX. " Lest, when our latest hope is fled, ye taste of our despair, And learn by proof, in some wild hour, how much the wretched dare." IT was a fine warm day, late in September ; the bright |fF sun shone pitilessly down npon the misery in Leyden. A crowd pressed round the burgomaster in the market - place. They were noisy, angry, almost riotous. But upon the steps of the council-house, ««>9 tio SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. above the surging, maddened, threatening mob, stood Van der Werf, speaking in calm and commanding tones. " Be men ! " he cried ; " death by starvation is better than death at Spanish hands ! While I have life, the gates shall not be opened ! Take heart : hope still 1 Boisot will come at last 1 " A murmur passed from moutli to mouth ; the hag- gard faces scowled ominously ; the hungry eyes grew fiercer ; a man sprang upon an empty waggon and stood facing the tall, gaunt figure of the burgomaster. " Boisot will not come. Go up to the tower, look out and see what hope is ours 1 He cannot reach us, and we will not tamely starve because, forsooth, Meinheer Van der Werf commands it. Have we not done enough ? Think of your wives, your children, men of Leyden ! have mercy on them and open — open the gates to Valdez, It is our only hope. At worst, no harder thing can come upon us now 1 " Some among the listeners cried loudly, " We will open the gates. Van der Werf shall not prevent us. We have borne and suffered enough. The Prince of Orange has mocked us and left us to our fate ! " and they turned, shouting, " To the gates, to the walls I Valdez shall come in ! " But the clear voice of th3ir noble burgomaster rang through the square, commanding silence. " Stop ! listen, men 1 Think you that there is no harder thing than death by starvation ? Will you welcome the SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY m Spaniard to your homes ? Will yon trnst your wives and children to his mercy sooner than die bravely, as yon have lived ? "Will yon stoop to sue for compassion from the men whom you have so long defied ? Are you willing to submit at last to the indignities, the insults, the tortures of the insolent soldiers who could not conquer you ? Think you that Valdez will have mercy ? or Alva ? or Philip ? Do yon trust them, who are steeped in blood and black with treachery and falsehood ? / tell you, men of Leyden, that all tlie agony, all the misery, which our city has suffered hitherto, will be nothing to wh».L she shall endure in the hour of Valdez' triumph. Let us not so dishonour ourselves ; let us be men ; let us show them that , nothing can bring us to their feet ! Let us wait I Boisot will come ; or if not, we will sell our lives dearly ; we will be avenged upon our enemies ! " There was a moment's silence, then Albrecht van Hessfeldt spoke. '' Meinheer Van der Werf has said well. Let us live for vengeance ! The powers of Heaven have promised that at least. When the last hour comes, we will ourselves slay the women and the children and set fire to the city ; then it shall go hard with us if our enemies do not feel the bitterness of our revenge." Once more there was a stir among the cro7/d. Albrecht's wild words found an echo in their hearts, for he spoke like one inspired. He believed himself 112 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. to know their destinod fate, and he promisctt them " vengeance " with half-prophetic aothority. Bnt he was interrupted ; a messenger came with haste to beg their help at the eastern gate, and the men who had so lately cried out to their leaders to submit, now did good and valiant service against the Spaniards. Once more thev were beaten off, and once more the brave burghers of Leyden resolved " to conquer or to die " ; yet for many days their patience was unrewarded. The sun shone down on leafless trees, and on streets and gf.rdens brown and bare as in the depth of winter, for every green and living thing had been devoured by the starving people ; but the cc msel of the heroic burgomaster prevailed, and Leyden still flnng defiance at her foes, while the water slowlv rose and Boisot's fleet came nearer. Deliverance seemed to be at hand, but their hopes were again dashed to the ground. All William's resource and energy ; all the constancy and courage of the citizens ; all they had done and suffered, was unavailing, for the Almighty Himself seemed to be against them. ■ Marie had grown weak and listless ; she rarely left the house. She fancied that the death she prayed for was coming fast, and she was thankful. She had no means of helping the sufferers, and she could not bear to see their agony, so she lived chiefly in the seclusion of her own rooms, and saw none but Albrecht, One SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 113 day lie entered hastily. " Marie ! Marie I " he cried, in despair, " we are forsukeu of God, mau can do nothing. Oh I that we were dead ; that we had reached rest and peace in the grave I Can it be that God is lighting against us, or is it that things hajtpen but by chance ? Is there no God at all ? " Marie did not answer. Wan it all by chance ? '' We are lost, Marie ! The water is tjoinii down. ! " " Going down ? " she uimost shrieked. " Yes ! every hour. The wind is blowing from the east and is driving it back to the sea I The God in whom we u listed " " Hush, Albrecht ! " said Marie (the words rose un- bidden in her mind). " Though He slay me, yet will 1 trust in Him I Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?" " Oh, Marie ! I thought so once. 1 trusted ; 1 prayed: where was the answer y " " It may come yet," she rejilied in the same dreamy way. ■. >. " It will not come now. Hope no more. Strive only for resignation." " The wind may change again," she said. But the wind blew steadily from the east, and the waters sank far more rapidly than they had risen. Even Van der Werf, the bravest of all the brave people of Leyden, began to despair. For three days the wind blew and the waters fell ; then came a change. 8, 1^1 %^ 114 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. The wind suddenly shifted to the north- west, the waves were driven inriously before the storm, the water deepened ; then the wind changed once more, but only to blow still harder from the south-west, and at mid- night, on the second of October, Boisot's fleet swept across the ruined dvkes in full course towards the starving city. Forty-eight hours ago Leyden was desi)airing, and her enemies exulting in the near prospect of her fall. Now Valdez and his army will need stout hands and stouter hearts or she will be saved in spite of them. Tliey will need all their well-tried skill, all their vaunted courage, for their foes are not alone of flesh and blood— the creeping, treacherous sea is against them, too ! Night fell over the city, dark with storm and wind, but through the blackness glimmered the flames of the burning villages, with which Boisot lighted his way across the dark waters. Niglit fell, a blacker night than usual ; but the inhabitants of Leyden took no rest. The wind howled and roared about the city, and though help was nearer than it had ever been before, a horror of great darkness seemed over all. It was not Albrecht's turn to watch upon the wall that night. He sat at home, silent and brooding. At last he spoke. " 1 cannot think, Marie, that we shall even now be saved." M' SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. "5 " Our friends are very near, Albrecht." " Our foes are nearer. The best I can Uoi)e is that Boisot uucl we together may taste revenge. I think we shall ; and after that our time will have come to die." " Oh, Albrecht ! why will you try to take away my hope, my faith in Ood ? " " i have no wish, God knows, to take away any ho])e or comfort that you can rest ui)on ; but, Marie, to-mor- row will bring the end. W« can die more easily than we have lived. Is it so sad a thing to change this life for Heaven's glories, Heaven's peace and purity and quiet ? " " Then you still believe, in spite of all ? " she said. " 1 do believe that for such as you and Hdlene there is a heaven ; 1 was mad to doubt the existence of God. You know that in happier times, when 1 could think calmlv, I never doubted that we have a Ruler and an Avenger stronger than man. If all had been by chance we must long ago have submitted to the tyranny of Spain ; but, Marie, quiet, peace, and purity are not for men like me, neither in Heaven nor earth. I am a bloodstained, sinful man " " But, Albrecht, the war is right and just; it is for God's holy religion." " Marie, I tight, not for God's laws, not for truth or justice ; I fight because I hate the Spaniards, because I would be avenged upon them. You cannot under- Il6 SOLDIERS OF LIIiERTV. stand my feelings. Yon do not know what it is to strike with a pleasure in the pain and the woe that is snft'ered by the enemy. You are not like me. Wlien we part at the end of this life, we shall never meet again. Fom will be happy, yoiimW forget all wr -ig and misery in the light of Heaven, while I — ah ! Marie, who can tell ? I only know that I shall not be with you, and 1 fear that our parting will come very soon, — perhaps to-morrow ! My darling ! My darling I " Marie looked up with startled, sorrowing eyes. Was this Albrecht, whose faith had been so strong, whose life had been so pure ? Had he, indeed, reason to fear what lay beyond the grave ? His dark face was sadder, but gentler, than usual. " Albrecht," she sobbed, scarce knowing what she said, " I will never leave you. Nothing on earth, nothing in Heaven can part us ! " "You do not think what you are saying, Marie. How can you tell what lies before us ? '' As he spoke, a fearful crash sounded above the raging of the storm, long, loud, and awful. The house trembled at the shock, the very town seemed falli)ig; then, for one moment, there was silence — the elements themselves were hushed. Suddenly the air was rent with wild cries of terror ; shriek after shriek rose up to the troubled sky. There was a rush of hurried feet, a trampling of armed men, and, above all, a cry that struck terror to the SOr.DIEKS OF LIBRRTW •7 stontest hearts in heydcii: '' Tlie Spanianls ! the Spaniards ! " Marie swooned in her Imaband's arms, and Albreoht, with one kiss on her pale cheek, and one prayer for forgiveness, drew forth his dagger, and raised his hand to strike the blow whicli was to set her free for ever from danger, sorrow, and inhumanity. He loved her, therefore he would not spare her. He loved her, and she should go to Heaven witliout opening her eyes again to this cruel, cruel world ! Again the cry rang through the air: " The Spaniards! tlie Spaniards ! " The hurrying footsteps, the tramp- ling came surging up the street. Now 1 noio I if ever, for his work of cruel mercy ; the time to strike had come \ (^APTER X. " Sleep till the end, true soul and sweet." WE mnst now return to Anita and Isa- bella, whom we left under tlie safe and kind guardian- ship of Bertrand van Hess- feldt on board the Sfftr oj Hope. At this time they had lived in the strange little ^flat- bot- tomed vessel for rather more than a week, and were be- ginning to feel at home there. Anita was thankful to be a welcome guest after her long residence in her uncle's house, where her maintenance was looked upon as a burden. There was not one of the rough crew but treated her with respect and consideration. Spanish as she was, her sweet voice and lovely face charmed ??8 SOLD/ERS OF r.inERTY. 119 them all ; fhey made so fair a coiifmst with their own harsh tones and rugj^ed features ; uinl none felt the charm of her preseiiee more deeply than the yonng captain. To him she had come, like a j^leam of heavenly sunshine, to bn^ak tin; darkn(!ss of his life ; and he needed it, for sometimes he feared that their errand was hopeless, and utterly despaired of the safety of Albrecht and his wife. Till Anita came, they had been all in all to him. He loved his brother with a l)as8ionate devotion that was due i)artly to his own ardent nature and partly to his admiration for Albrecht's character. He thought him heroic and self-sacrificing, truthful and gentle, as the knight " without fear and without reproach." Other people might not agree with him, but lu; knew Albrecht bet- ter than any one else, and his estimate was most likely to be the correct one — thus he argued, and thus he looked up to his brother, and lavished on him the hero- worship, which, after all, might have been bestowed on a less worthy object. Till Anita came, the one desire of his life had been to reach Leyden quickly. He had wished only to be allowed to rescue Albrecht and Marie ; but now there were times when the miseries of the starving city passed out of his mind, when he forgot everything but Anita del Rio. For her sake he was not now always in the forefront of the battle. Before hi§ prisoners came on board he had dared the worst that the Spaniards I20 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. oonld do ; his spirits had risen iind liis heart liad grown lighter in tlie heat of tlie most desperate en- eonnter. Now, lie dreaded the engagements, which, as a soldier, he had no right to shun, for if hi:^ vessel should be boarded and taken, Anita would be again exposed to the awful dangers of the Inquisition, One day Count van Hittart rather sarcastically commended his new-found caution, and praised his admirabh' consideration towards his prisoners. Bertrand's brown cheeks reddened. " I hope, sir," he said angrily, " that you do not think I have failicd in my duty ? 1 only ol)eyed your own orders in keep- ing with the rest of the fleet." " Did I say that you had don(^ wrong ? " replied his old friend, with a (piiet smile. " I merely expressed my ]»leasure at the restraint you ])ut u])on the natural impetuosity of your temper. You do well to remember the presence of your prisoners." " Your ])risoners, sir. /do not hold them guilty for a moment." ■ " ^W'll I well ! it will be soon enough to decide that ((uestion when we reach Leyden." Bertrand left him hastilv and returned to his own boat, where he found Anita leaning on the side, look- ing at the loiig tracks of red and gold that the setting sun had thrown across the water. The ships lay motionless on the scarcely rippling tide, as they had lain for many an hour ; and, in the far distance, SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 121 hovowl a smallt'i- fleet of Spanish vessels, wjilchiiifi- them with eagerness, Imt not yet caring to risk a battle. They hojied that time would conquer for tliem. Several large dykes still blocked the way to Leyden ; and these were in Spanish keeping. " Have you been to see Count van Sittart ? " Anita asked, as he joined her. "Yes. He sent for me. 1 sliould not liave gone unless he had." " Whv not ? " she asked. " I rather like liim." " Po you ? " he said in astonishment. " He was very rude and disagreeable to you, I thouglit." " I sui)pose it was his duty," she said, smiling; " but it might have l)een hard for us if you had not been so near at hand." " Do you know, Anita, that he still calls you ' a prisoner ' ? " asked Bertrantl, nstonished that she should regard the danger of Count van Sittart's severity as past. *' Yes, I know ; but if I were not a prisoner here, I should now be in the dungeons of the In(iuisition. 1 could hardly have escaped alone, if he hud set me free. It is better as it is." " But suppose yo\v-~we — should not be able to prove vour innocence at last ? " It was hardly kind of Bertrand to suggest such un- pleasant possibilities, but Anitii took them witii greater calmness than himself, 122 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. " I am not afraid of that," she said. " I have only said what was true. If we j^et to Tieyd(!ii saftdy, iny difficulties will be over, 1 hope." " 1 hoi)e so. I know that Albreeht will do all he can for von. No I there cannot reallv be auv danger if we can but reach the city." " Do you think that we shall not ? " " I cannot tell. As soon as it is dark we are to make an attack on the dyke : if we take it, the worst will be over, and I hope we shall reach Leyden in time; but sometimes I think that Albreeht was right— that we are fated to be conquered at last." On that night they completely routed the defenders of the dyke; and then all on board the fleet turned out to assist at the difficult task of levelling it. The work was quickly done, and the fleet was again under way. Alas ! its progress soon received another check. As I have already said, the wind changed suddenly to the east ; and under its influence the water fell so rapidly that, in the course of a few hours, the ships were aground, and the utmost efi\)rts of their crews could not Torce them onward. " What has happened ? " asked Anita. Bertrand explained, >-^";.ving passionately, " I cannot bear to think of Marie and Albreeht and poor little Hdl^ne in Leyden now ! They must ))e dying of starvation." " God help them," said Anita gravely. SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 123 " I sometimes think tliat it seems as if He will not hel]) US," replied Bertraud. "(Jan it be that the monks are right ; that He is displeased with us and our religion ? It seems like it. Why did He allow us to be defeated at Mookerheyde ? Why does He permit such miseries ? " "I cannot tell. It is hard to understand," said Anita sadly. " Is it that He allows the Evil One to govern this world as he wills? Do you remember what Senor Boerhaave read last Sunday, how (xod delivered the patriarch Job into Satan's hands, to tempt and try as it pleased him ? " " It may be so," said Bertrand slowly— thinking of the strange sights at Utrecht—" but it is not a pleasant idea. I would rather believe that we are in the hands of God Himself. Satan, if he were allowed, might tempt and torture us for his pleasure without our gaining anything. The preachers teach that sorrow and misery are sent by God to help us (it is hard to see how) on our road to Heaven ; but sometimes it does seem as if we were under the governance of hell." He told her then of the battle fought in the sky above the city of Utrecht ; how he and Albrecht had witnessed it ; how its various interpretations had all assisted to depress his unhappy countrymen in their struggle for freedom ; and how ho himself had, for a time, lost all hope of victory, because it seemed to 134 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. point to t.lu' final overtlirovv of tlie Dntcli. Hut \\\o strangest part of his story was yet to come. " Then do von not still dread tliat yonr enemies mav be victorions ? " asked his companion. " No," he said. " The prophecy has been fnlfilled. That battle in the clouds represented almost exactly, and in every detail, the Battle of Mookerheyde, in wliich Count Louis of Nassau was slain. The over- throw of our forces was complete. Two or three of ray followers and 1 myself are almost the only survivors of our army. Since then I have not feared tliat Phili]> will have power to oppress us much longer, and to force his religion, his tyranny, and, worse than all, his own choice of rulers upon us, for ever." Bertrand spoke passionately, forgetful for the time tliat his auditor belonged to the hated race of Spain. " Foolish and contemjjtible as Philip is, he cannot really believe that we, the free sons of Holland, will submit to be governed by foreigners at his command ; and by such foreigners, murderous, lying " " Senor van Hessfeldt," interrupted Anita, " E ask you to believe that there are Spaniards who neitiier lie nor murder." "I beg your pardon. I forgot myself. 1 know it well. 1, of all men, was wrong to speak so strongly. Forgive my rudeness, if you can ; 1 am truly sorry for it"; and so indeed he looked. " I am sure that you have seen the worst of us here *i SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. 125 iu the Netherlands. Spaniards can be generous, noble, and unselfish. You cannot regret their cruelties more deeply than I do. Nay, not so much, for they are my countrymen. I wish you had known my father ; you would have thought better of my people then." "Anita, can you not forgive me? I honour the memory of your father, as I lionour that of my own. And I " What he would have said is uncertain, for he was Siuldenly called away to attend a council on board the admiral's ship, the ^;7e " I know it," is the boy's reply. *'' How she bought mmmm 148 SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. it from a soldier because she knew it had been hers and Don Alonzo's, and how she heard from him that he was dead." Just at this moment the door opens, and two hulies enter ; one tall and straight and dark, the other fairer and smaller. We should know them both, for neither of them have lost their old beauty, though the silver threads in Marie's hair, and the lines in her sweet face, tell of those dreadful months when Leyden was be- sieged and starving. Anita holds a little girl by the hand, as fair-haired, blue-eyed, and dainty as M: rie herself ; and the children greet her enthusiastically, for their gentle cousin is a great favourite with all. The ladies stay for a few moments to chat with Isa- bella, and to play with the little ones ; and then they close the door again and leave the old nurse and the children to their stories. Below, their husbands are waiting for them, talking together of old times. Ber- trand is little altered, but a marked change has passed over Albrecht. He looks worn and aged for his years. Time, which so often mellows a noble character, has begun its good work early with him. Calm resolution has taken the place of the fierce pride and passion which once reigned in his soul, and his faith and courage support them all. He is a thankful, but will never be a happy man ; for sorrow and shame for the terrible sin which he so nearly committed ha,ve hum- bled him to the dust. He can never forget how he Soldiers of liberty. im failed in the time of trial, and how he well-nigh threw all away in the very hour of deliverance. Once, in an agony of remorse, he told Marie how, when he felt his consciousness failing on that dreadful night, he had tried to nerve himself to do the wicked deed, cursing his hand that it would not do his will ; but they have never since spoken of it, and even Bertrand does not know how near he was to being too late. But this is no time for selfish melancholy. On the morrow they go to join the army once more ; the last evening at home must not be sad ; and when the children come down Albrecht forgets his sorrows in a romp with them. Tired at last with play, they gather lovingly about him, and for the moment he is happy, for the heart of the stern warrior is becoming more and more like that of a little child ; and their sweet trust in him seems an assurance that God has not set the dreadful mark of Cain upon his brow, as he some- times fears. * He looks roun ' lovingly on the pretty group beside him, while he !-olds his own little daughter close to his heart. His eyes travel from the children to the calm, sweet face of liis wife, and then they wander to where Bertrand and Anita stand together by the win- dow. The murmur of their voices reaches his ear, and now and then he catches a word of what they are saying. The war is especially bitter to Anita, for she cannot forget that her husband's foes are her own t$o SOLDIERS OF LIBERTY. countrymen, and there are times when she longs to hear again the dear language of her childhood ; but to-night she only remembers that Bertrand is going forth to battle and danger, and though she tries to be cheerful it is a hard task. As Albrecht watches them, he thinks of his old hat'-ed for all things Spanish, and of his wild thirst for vengeance. Within a day or two he will again be at his terrible task of fighting and slaughter ; it is a duty that cannot be laid aside. The safety of wives and children, the happiness of home, have been won at the sword's point, and still need the defence of the sword ; but listening to those murmuring voices, and to the ringing laughter of the little ones, he bows his head upon his hand and prays for peace as earnestly as in days gone by he was wont to pray for vengeance. Thus let tlie curtain fall. 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