"You are my uncle," she said, taking his hand; "indeed, I know of no other relative I possess on earth."

I need scarcely describe the satisfaction with which Master Overton greeted his niece.

I had never met a man whose whole heart was more given to the desire of advancing the cause of his Saviour than was Master Overton. Scarcely even did John Foxe surpass him. I have said little of that good minister. He had now obtained, we heard, a church in Wiltshire; and frequently Master Gresham used to send him money wherewith he might help his poorer neighbours. When Master Overton heard of the proposed preaching, he seconded Aveline's wish to be allowed to go and hear it.

"I will accompany her myself," he said.

Sir Thomas no longer objected; and it was arranged that we should set out the following morning, in time to secure a place near the preacher in the cathedral. Although Margery could not understand what was said, she also begged leave to accompany her mistress. We thus formed a considerable party when we entered the cathedral. We found Herman Modet ready to ascend the pulpit, round which were piled up the various articles which had been broken off the images. Already a considerable number of people had collected within the building, and soon after we entered, vast numbers kept pouring in, till the whole edifice was crowded. Just then a body of magistrates appeared in their official garments, headed by Vesembeck, who again appealed to the preacher to abandon his intentions. Earnestly as he pleaded, warning the minister of the danger which might occur, he did so without effect. All Herman Modet would agree to was to shorten his address, and, supported by the people, he refused to agree to any other arrangement.

At length, completely discomfited, those of the magistrates who were Roman Catholics withdrew, while the remainder stopped to listen to the preacher. Ascending the pulpit, in a sonorous voice he gave forth a psalm, the words and air of which were well-known to the vast assemblage below. Hitherto a low murmur had alone been heard throughout the building. But now, many thousand voices swelled up together to the praise of Him who came on earth to die for man—the just for the unjust, that all, by trusting in Him, might have everlasting life. I have not space to give all the sermon, though I made notes of it at the time. It was eloquent, fervent, and convincing. I cannot fancy that any right-minded Romanists, inquiring for the truth, could have heard it and yet not have yielded to its arguments. I should rather say, that it is surprising that they could resist them. Yet there were, I know, many Romanists there who, though perhaps moved at the moment, went away retaining their former opinions.

Herman Modet, though he had consented to preach for a short time, carried away by his feelings, continued to pour forth his words of fire hour after hour, no one wearying even by the length of his discourse. Once again there rose a hymn of praise such as had never before been heard within those walls—not to Mary, not to any of the saints, but to the Lamb without spot or blemish, slain for the sins of the whole world, that all who believe on Him might not perish, but have everlasting life. No thoughts can be more pure and simple and holy, more full of Gospel truth than are those found in the hymns of Marot. Although we had been standing so long, we yet left the cathedral with regret. Several of our party could only comprehend a very small portion of what they had heard. Margery, indeed, did not understand a word, and yet there was that power in the speaker's manner alone which riveted her attention, while sometimes A'Dale, and sometimes I, explained to her the substance of the discourse.

Madam Clough, when we returned home, could scarcely believe that we had been so long a time at the cathedral, or that we could have been as interested as we professed with the discourse we had heard.

I must now give a short account of the numerous public events of deep interest which occurred after this.

I have said that Master Overton proposed returning to England; but when his presence in Antwerp was known, several Protestant Englishmen, as well as Reformers of other nations in the place, earnestly requested him to remain and minister to them. Sir Thomas Gresham also urging him to do so, he consented to take the charge of a Reformed Church at Antwerp till another should be found to supply his place. This was a great advantage to Aveline especially, as she thus had a relative to whom she could go for advice and instruction, which certainly her friend Madam Clough was unable to afford.

Similar scenes to those I have described in Antwerp took place in numerous towns throughout the Netherlands. In Flanders alone, four hundred churches were sacked, in Mechlin, in Tournay—a city distinguished for its ecclesiastical splendour—in Ghent, and in Valenciennes. In not one of them, however, was a single human being injured.

On the return of the Prince of Orange, he expressed his regret at what had occurred. At the same time, he did not appear disposed to treat the image-breakers with much severity. The Regent Margaret, however, on hearing of the disturbances, was seized with the greatest alarm. When the news reached Philip, he swore a deep oath that they should bitterly pay for what they had done. Owing to the representations of the Prince of Orange, in the meantime liberty of worship was granted in places where it had already been established; and it seemed at first as if the Reformers were about to obtain all they required. Bands of insurgents appeared in various places. In the city of Valenciennes the Reformers had completely gained the upper hand. But the city was declared by the Regent in a state of siege; and a body of troops under the fierce Papist Noircarmes was sent to invest it. Sad news shortly afterwards reached us, that most of the Protestant bands had been cut to pieces by Noircarmes and his troops.

The Prince of Orange was governing Antwerp, with the brave young noble, Hoogstraaten, under him, while Brederode was also in the city secretly raising troops for the defence of the liberal cause. On two occasions I attended Sir Thomas Gresham, when invited by the Prince of Orange to dine with him. The Prince received my patron with great courtesy at a magnificent banquet. From the conversation of the Prince, it was very clear that he was anxious to ascertain from Sir Thomas Gresham the disposition entertained by Queen Elizabeth and her ministers towards the revolutionary party.

"Do you think," he said, "that she will aid our noblemen and other chiefs, as she did those in France, for the sake of their religion?"

Sir Thomas, in reply, asked whether the noblemen to whom the Prince alluded had demanded any help of her Majesty. He said that he could not tell. Then said Sir Thomas, "I am myself no judge, nor can I interfere in a matter of so much importance."

Soon after this, Sir Thomas again returned to England. It was now that some of the leading Protestants in Antwerp memorialised Sir Thomas Gresham, explaining that the outbreaks which had lately occurred in the city were greatly contrary to their wishes, and entreating him that he would petition the Queen Elizabeth in their behalf, and that the ruin with which the Low Countries were threatened might be averted. They begged that she would address King Philip, in order that he might be brought to accede to their reasonable request: that they might be allowed liberty to worship God without molestation, asserting that they were perfectly ready to "render to Caesar the things which are Caesar's," should they be allowed to "render unto God the things which are God's."

I mentioned just now that Brederode was raising men in Antwerp. With him was associated the brave and gallant young nobleman, Marnix of Tholouse. He had left college in order that he might draw his sword in the cause of religious liberty.

The Prince of Orange at length thought it necessary to prohibit Brederode's enlistments. He and his followers accordingly left the city, and embarked on board several ships which they had seized. More men having joined them, Brederode took his departure for Holland, where he hoped to raise more troops. In the meantime Marnix of Tholouse, with his newly collected force, sailing up the Scheld, landed and attacked the little village called Ostrawell, about a mile from Antwerp. Here he posted himself with considerable judgment. In his rear he had the Scheld and its dikes, on his right and left the dikes and the village. In front he threw up a breastwork and sunk a trench. On this spot might truly be said to have been first hoisted the standard of liberty. A'Dale and I paid a visit to the camp. Daily numbers of men flocked to his standard, till he had collected fully 3,000 round him. If the bravery of one man could have supported a great cause, the gallant young student might have succeeded. His followers, however, had no discipline, and consequently no dependence on each other. Brederode had promised to join him shortly with a body of troops; and it was hoped that he would himself infuse his own spirit into his men, and bring them under discipline.

As the ground was perfectly level between the city and his camp, we were able from the ramparts to see all that was taking place within it.

Although the Prince of Orange would not give his open support to the patriot band, yet he did not feel himself called upon to interfere with them; indeed, he had been fortunately furnished with no troops with which he could have done so. Affairs in the city therefore went on quietly.

One morning, however, at early dawn the sound of firing from the direction of Ostrawell called a vast number of the people of Antwerp to that side of the ramparts. It soon became evident that Tholouse had been suddenly attacked, and that a fierce battle was raging. No one could tell by whom he was assailed. In a short time the roofs of the houses, the towers of the churches, and the higher parts of the walls, were covered with eager spectators. We were among them. We could hear the sound of drums and trumpets, and the sharp rattle of musketry. Then came the shouts of victory, the despairing cries of the vanquished. The glitter of the helmets and spears, the bucklers and corslets of the assailing party we could clearly see, while their standards—they were those of Spain—showed their exact position. The young Count had greatly won our admiration, on account of his youth, his gallant bearing, his talents, and his bravery. He had become a staunch Protestant, and for that cause was ready to lay down his life. A short time before, he had married a very charming young lady, who shared his enthusiastic desire to establish the liberty of their country. She was now in the city, and we could not help thinking what must be her feelings on finding that the camp had been attacked. We could see the enemy approach the breastwork in front of the camp. Alas! it was defended but for a short time: on came the assailants; now they entered the fort. Onward they pressed, some shooting rapidly, while the swords of others were kept in constant exercise.

"What say you, Ernst; shall we go forth to their support?" exclaimed A'Dale. "We shall find hundreds of brave fellows ready to accompany us; and I for one cannot stand here and see our friends butchered by their tyrants. See! see! the enemy are advancing; there is no time to lose, if we are to give them any real help!"

I was as willing as my friend on most occasions to rush into danger; but it seemed to me that already the enemy had gained the day, and that our assistance would come too late. They pressed on till we could see hundreds of the patriots driven into the Scheld. On one side was a farmhouse; round it for some time the battle raged furiously. Then the flames were seen to burst forth. Again the assailants advanced. Small bodies of the patriots who had escaped from the fight were rushing towards the town. Soon the excitement became uncontrollable. It was not surprising that the Calvinists within the city should have felt for their brothers who were thus being destroyed. For a short time, from every street and alley in the city, people were seen coming forth armed with lance, pike, and arquebus; some bearing huge two-handed swords, which had belonged to their fathers, others, battle-axes, and some carried huge sledge-hammers over their shoulders. All were determined to issue forth, in the hope of rescuing their friends ere the whole of them were destroyed. Meantime the young bride of Tholouse was seen flying from street to street, calling on the Calvinists to save their brethren on the point of destruction. Fully 10,000 men were up in arms; but the gates had been closed by order of the Prince of Orange, and they found it impossible to force their way out. The whole city was in a state of commotion. The Lutherans as well as the Calvinists had flown to arms. Some of the fiercest proposed to avenge the death of the patriots by the slaughter of the Roman Catholics. The latter also, in consequence, in their own defence, had taken up arms. A most sanguinary outbreak was, therefore, every moment expected.

Had it begun, no one could say when it would end, or the number of lives which would be sacrificed. While the dreadful scenes I have described were going on, we hurried down from the walls to the open place near the Red Gate, still hoping that there might be some time to render assistance to the defeated patriots. At this moment the Prince, without any guards or attendants, rode in among the crowd collected there. Instead of the usual signs of respect with which he was greeted, he was now received with howls of execration. A thousand hoarse voices called him the Pope's servant, the minister of antichrist, a traitor to his country. Some even proposed to cut him down on the spot. An arquebus was pointed at him, but, ere it was discharged, a hand from the crowd struck it away. Even before this the postern of the Red Gate had been forced open, and a number of the Calvinists were issuing forth.

The Prince sat calmly on his horse; then, lifting up his hand, he addressed the multitude. As he spoke, every voice was hushed. He told them that he came for their good, that the battle was over, that their friends had been cut to pieces, and that the victorious enemy were retiring; while, brave as those who heard him might be, should they go forth, they would be unable to retrieve the fortunes of the day. He pointed out to them that they were ill-armed and without discipline, and that the same force which had captured the camp at Ostrawell might with equal ease destroy them.

The remarks of the Prince seemed so just, that I persuaded A'Dale to give up his design of marching out to the relief of the remnants of the patriot force. Some hundreds, however, still insisted on going forth. Again and again the Prince and the Count Hoogstraaten, who had a short time before arrived on the spot, entreated them to abandon their design, warning them that their blood would be upon their own heads should they persevere.

Five hundred marched forth. The enemy were seen scattered about the country pursuing the fugitives. On the appearance of the city force, they were quickly again summoned together by the sound of the trumpet; and now, in a compact mass, they advanced towards the city, with drums beating and colours flying. Just before this a rapid firing was heard in the rear of the enemy. We at the time little knew what it was. Alas! the savages were shooting their prisoners, three hundred of whom they had captured, intending to ransom them. When, however, they found they had again to enter into a fresh battle, they shot the whole of the unfortunate men. Thus, in reality, this unadvised sally of the citizens was the cause of the death of a large number of their countrymen. The citizens, finding themselves outnumbered, and not relishing the firm bearing of the Spaniards, retreated rapidly into the city, the gates being shut only just in time to prevent the entrance of the Romanist force. The enemy, then advancing close to the city walls, planted the banners of the unfortunate Tholouse on the margin of the moat, sounding at the same time a trumpet of defiance. The Prince and his lieutenant exerted themselves to prevent another sally, well knowing the thoroughly trained force the citizens would have to encounter. In the opinion of the Prince the time for fighting had not yet arrived.

During the period I have been describing, the whole city continued in a state of the fiercest commotion. The Calvinists in vast numbers had taken possession of the Mere; it was here the market was held: it is a long wide place, too wide almost to be called a street, with fine buildings on either side—the streets which enter it communicating with the Exchange and many other public edifices. This place had been barricaded with paving stones, upturned waggons, and other articles which came to hand. A large body of the people had forced their way into the Arsenal, and obtained a supply of ammunition and several field-pieces; these they planted at the entrance of every street and passage. Another party stormed the city jail, and liberated the prisoners with whom they were crowded. These eagerly took up arms, and assembled in the Mere for its defence.

A'Dale and I, standing well with the Calvinists, were able to go in among them; but what we heard gave us great cause for anxiety. A large number were sincere and devoted men, excited at that moment to the highest pitch of religious enthusiasm. There were, however, no small number of ruffians, eager to commit any crime which came in their way. Some proposed pillaging the churches and the houses of the Romanists, the images only having before been destroyed.

"Let us collect all the wealth which has been so long hoarded up by these wretched drones!" cried out some; others proposed even sacking the whole of the city, and setting up a Republic of their own.

The report of these proposals spread rapidly through the city: nothing could exceed the terror and alarm of the rest of the inhabitants. It was fearful to hear the cries of the women and children, who every moment expected that the place would be given over to rapine and bloodshed.

Night was approaching: it was impossible to say what would take place during the coming darkness. Meantime the Prince summoned the Board of Ancients, the Deans of Guilds, and the Ward Masters, to consult with him at the Council Room: he had also caused eight companies of Guards, which had previously been enrolled, to be mustered on the square in front of the City Hall for its protection. It was rapidly arranged, at his suggestion, that terms should be offered to the insurgents; but who was to carry the message?

"I myself will go forth," he said; and listening to no remonstrances, he threw himself on his horse, and rode down to the Mere. He was allowed to pass by the guns, till he was once more in the centre of the fierce mob. He told them that they must appoint eight deputies to treat with him and the magistrates at the Town Hall. The deputies were soon chosen, and accompanied him back. Six articles were drawn up, providing that the keys of the city should remain in his possession; that the watch should be held by burghers and soldiers together; that the magistrates should permit the entrance of no garrison; and that the citizens should be entrusted with the care of their own charters. The deputies and the City Government at once gave their cordial assent to these articles. When the deputies returned, their constituents were not very well pleased with what had been done, declaring that they would not submit to be locked up at the mercy of any man, nor would they trust to mercenary troops for guarding their city. The Prince, hearing this, agreed that the burghers, Calvinists, Lutherans, as well as Romanists, should be employed to guard the city.

These arrangements were not made till dark. A'Dale and I returned home. I may say that not one of the household could be persuaded to go to bed. Master Clough's anxiety was very great, especially on account of his wife. A'Dale and I, therefore, willingly undertook to go forth again and learn the news. As we approached the Mere, where an army of not less than 15,000 Calvinists still remained encamped, with guns loaded, and artillery pointed, we heard cries, "Long live the Beggars!"

"Down with the Papists!" and similar shouts. We waited for some time: again and again they were repeated, till we felt convinced that they were about to march forth, and carry out the threats they had previously uttered. Thus the night passed away.

We were not the only people who kept awake. Few, I believe, slept; but there was one who, with his associates, laboured hard the whole time— that was the Prince of Orange, so we afterwards heard. He was employing every means he could devise to save the city. He had interviews with the leaders of various parties; among others, he saw the ministers and notable members of the Lutheran Churches, and induced them to persuade their congregations to take up arms for the preservation of order. He also engaged the assistance of the chiefs of the various foreign mercantile associations—the English, Italian, Portuguese, and others— and ordered us to remain under arms at our respective factories, ready to act at a moment's warning. The Romanists also were assembled, and urged to unite with all those who wished to support order. As may be supposed, they were eager enough to do so, as certainly they would be the first to fall, should an outbreak take place.

There were thus three parties in the city—the Calvinists, the Lutherans, and the Romanists. In the two latter were generally found the richest people of the community, though they were the least numerous. They, therefore, would have suffered the most, had a battle been fought in the city. Nothing could have been more horrible than such an event—desolation and destruction would have been brought into every house. Yet, strange as it may seem, all parties were willing and eager to fight. Fresh articles were drawn up, and approved by those who represented the Lutheran and Romanist parties. The Prince resolved early in the morning to present them to the Calvinists; attended by Hoogstraaten and a committee of the municipal authorities, with a guard of a hundred troopers, he once more rode towards the Mere. It had been arranged that all who were anxious to preserve order were to wear a red scarf over their armour. Thus distinguished, he and his party approached the camp. The Calvinists appeared fierce and threatening as ever; but, notwithstanding, he was once more allowed to ride into the middle of the square. It was a moment of the greatest anxiety. One of the magistrates with a loud voice read the articles by the command of the Prince. For some time it seemed doubtful whether they would be accepted. But he in a few words expressed their meaning.

"And now, my friends," he said, "let me entreat you, by the love you bear your wives and children, by the love you bear your faith, by your duty to your country and to your Maker, to agree to these terms. If you do so, repeat the words with which I will conclude my address."

There was a pause. Then he cried with a loud voice, "God save the King!"

Again there was a pause. The Calvinists were swayed by conflicting emotions, but the calmness and gentleness of the Prince overcame all other considerations.

"Vive le Roi!" they shouted; and the cry was taken up throughout their ranks.

"I thank Heaven that it is so!" he again cried, when silence was once more procured. "Now let me entreat you quietly to return to your homes, and show that you bear your fellow-citizens no ill-will for what has occurred."

In a short time, those in charge of the artillery restored them to the Arsenal, where all arms which had been taken were replaced. And now the citizens of all classes were seen addressing each other in friendly terms—the Calvinists, Lutherans, and even Romanists. The passions of some fifty thousand armed men were appeased. The lives of numbers were preserved, and the beautiful city of Antwerp was saved, by the wisdom and courage of William of Orange.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE DUKE OF ALVA.

I was so deeply interested in the public events I have described, that I found little space in my journal for an account of my own proceedings. In truth, while at Antwerp, I was engaged the greater part of the day in my official duties, and have therefore little to tell about myself. Although order was restored in Antwerp, the city was full of mourning, especially among the lower classes, so many had lost relatives in the late fight. The person for whom I could not help feeling the most compassion was the young widow of the brave Tholouse. For some days she would not believe that he was among the slain, until one of the men who, though desperately wounded, had escaped death, was brought before her. He described how the young captain, though surrounded by foes, fought to the last, till he was struck down and cut to pieces. After the enemy had retired, we went out to the scene of the conflict. I had never witnessed so sad and horrible a sight. The ground in the camp was strewn with dead bodies. There was one pile of slain larger than the rest. Within it was found the hilt of the broken sword of the young hero, his helmet cleft in twain, and a corpse, covered with a hundred wounds, which those who knew him best declared was his. This seemed but a disastrous commencement of an attempt to establish liberty. Many abandoned all hope of their country's freedom. But bolder spirits hoped against hope; among them, even at that time, was William of Orange, or the Silent William, as he was called. He could speak, however, as I have already described. He gained the name, not so much because he was silent, as far as words were concerned, but because he kept his more important and deeper thoughts hidden in his own bosom.

It became known at this time that the Duke of Alva, the most celebrated general of his day, was marching with a Spanish army towards the Netherlands; and by the middle of August he reached Thionville, on the Luxembourg frontier.

Count Egmont and several other nobles rode forth to meet the Duke. Though at first Alva treated Egmont somewhat coldly, in a short time he appeared to be on the most friendly terms with him, and the two were seen riding side by side at the head of the forces. Of course the Duchess Margaret was very indignant at the appearance of Alva, who had come to supersede her. She at length consented to receive him without any of his attendants. But when he appeared in the courtyard with his body-guard, the archers of the Regent's household showed a disposition to prevent their entrance, and a scene of bloodshed seemed on the point of being enacted. At length he was allowed to pass, and the Duchess received him standing in the centre of her reception-room with the most chilling manner. Behind her stood the Count Egmont and other nobles. Alva, however, must have known how completely they were all in his power, and had thus less difficulty in suppressing his anger. It was said that the Prince of Orange again and again warned Counts Egmont and Horn, as well as several others, on no account to put themselves in the power of Alva. He showed his opinion of the character of that person by resigning all his offices, and retiring to his paternal estate of Dillenburg.

Alva having superseded the Regent, the country soon felt the effects of his presence. He forthwith distributed his well-trained troops through Brussels, Ghent, Antwerp, and other chief cities, and ordered the municipalities to transfer their keys to his keeping. A deep gloom settled down over the whole land. The day of vengeance with which they had long been threatened was now to overtake them. The people everywhere were oppressed with a feeling of hopeless dismay. They knew that they had no power to resist the force which had arrived to keep them down. Those who had a possibility of escaping made their way out of the ill-fated land across the frontier. Foreign merchants deserted the great marts, and the cities had the appearance of being stricken by the plague.

The Duke of Alva established a new court, for the trial of crimes committed during the recent period of troubles. It was called the Council of Troubles, but it soon acquired the terrible name of the Blood Council. It superseded all other institutions. All other courts were forbidden to give judgment on any case growing out of the late disturbances.

A reign of terror commenced, which exceeded anything that had before taken place. The Blood Council made rapid work wherever they went. In one day eighty-four of the inhabitants of Valenciennes were put to death; on another, forty-six persons in Malines. Ninety-five people collected from various towns were burned or strangled together at one place. But I sicken as I write of the horrible cruelties practised by Alva. He had come for the express purpose of destroying all the leaders of the popular movement. In spite of their high rank and the service they had rendered their King, they were condemned to death. Egmont had proved himself too faithful in carrying out the wishes of Philip, by the cruelties he exercised at Valenciennes and elsewhere, to deserve much pity.

It was at this juncture that William of Orange came forward. He published a manifesto, clearing himself of all the accusations brought against him, and declaring that he was about to make war, not against the King, but against those who had usurped his power and authority in the country. He immediately set to work to raise funds and troops. He sold all his jewels, plate, tapestry, and every other possession of value. Other nobles subscribed large sums. Count John of Nassau pledged his estates to raise funds for the cause.

The plan of the campaign was drawn out. The provinces were to be attacked simultaneously in three places. An army of Huguenots was to enter Artois on the frontier of France. A second, under Hoogstraaten, was to operate between the Rhine and the Meuse; while Louis of Nassau was to raise the standard of revolt in Freesland. A fourth force, under the Seigneur de Cocqueville, consisting of 2,500 men, also entered Artois. He was immediately attacked, and almost cut to pieces. All the Netherlanders who were taken prisoners were given up to the Spaniards, and, of course, hanged. A similar fate befel the force of Count Hoogstraaten. Louis of Nassau, however, was more successful.

His was the first victory gained by the patriot forces. It was seldom, that, ill-equipped and ill-disciplined, they were able to compete successfully with the well-trained troops of Spain. As yet, unhappily, there seemed but little prospect of the cause of liberty being triumphant. It was not man's arm which was to win the day. It was said that Alva's rage was almost uncontrollable when he heard of the defeat of his troops. In revenge, he immediately put to death eighteen prisoners of distinction, including the two Barons Batenburg, Maximilian Kock, Blois de Treslong, and others, who were executed in Brussels. Soon afterwards, the pretended trial of Egmont and Horn being concluded, those nobles were also executed in the same place. The events connected with their death are too well-known to require repetition. Though they did not die on account of their religion, for they were both staunch Romanists, yet their execution contributed greatly to forward the cause of the Protestants, as many other persons who might have remained true to Philip were induced to side with the patriots, lest they should be treated in a similar manner.

Nothing could be more deplorable than the condition of the Netherlands at this time. Every family was mourning for some of its dearest relatives. The death-bell tolled hourly in every village, while the survivors almost apathetically awaited the time when they themselves might be called to suffer in the same way.

Columns and stakes were to be seen in every street. The door-posts of private houses, even the fences in the fields, and the trees in orchards, were laden with human carcases, strangled, burnt, or beheaded. New scaffolds, gallows, and stakes were erected everywhere, ready for those devoted to destruction. All those who could escape had fled; and had it not been for the strict way in which the gates were guarded, nearly every town in the Netherlands would have been depopulated. In Antwerp, as well as in other great manufacturing and mercantile towns, once so full of industrial life, silence and despair now reigned. Poor Antwerp! it was my native city. I had known it for the greater part of my life. I had seen it once at the height of prosperity. Its commerce and industry were now well-nigh destroyed.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

PROTESTANTS IN ANTWERP.

Master Overton continued in Antwerp; and as he gained a greater knowledge of the language, he became a very popular preacher among all classes. The arrival of Alva and his myrmidons had, however, put a stop to all public preaching; all meetings for prayer, whether public or private, were prohibited on pain of death. But this did not prevent people from meeting regularly, in secret, to read the Scriptures, to exhort each other, and to offer up prayer and praise together. There were many such congregations in different parts of the city. The one we attended was in a large upper room in a house not far from the Mere, where Master Overton ministered. Two flights of stairs led up to the storey on which the room was situated, besides which there was a narrow winding stair inside the wall, with a concealed door on the top, which led down to a small postern gate. The house belonged to a noble of the privileged order, and no magistrates dare enter it without authority from the Regent.

We knew one Sunday evening that a service had been arranged, and that Herman Modet was to preach. The weather was bad, the rain pouring down in torrents, the wind blowing, and the lightning occasionally flashing forth from the surcharged clouds. Still Aveline was very anxious to attend the meeting, as was Mistress Margery. Madam Clough had wished to go, but she dreaded the pelting storm. Master Overton was, of course, to be present, to assist in the services. He had hoped that the mind of Madam Clough had been somewhat awakened, and he pressed her to accompany us. Still she refused, when listening at the window, we found that the rain had ceased. This decided her, and the time having arrived, we set forth with Master Overton. Guarded from the weather as well as we could be, we sallied forth two and two, each taking a different road. Aveline and I had agreed to take the longest one. As we were at some little distance from the place of meeting, a flash of vivid lightning burst from the sky, playing along the street, as if seeking for some object to strike. Immediately afterwards our ears were almost stunned by a loud rattling peal of thunder, and once again the rain came down with even more force than before. I led Aveline under a porch, where we stood for some time watching the rain descending, and the bright flashes of lightning which came with unusual rapidity from the sky. I prayed that none of them might strike the fair girl who was beside me. She only seemed to regret being absent so long from the meeting. Once more the rain ceased, and hurrying along, we in a short time reached the side door of the building in which the meeting was being held. I having made the usual sign, the door was cautiously opened by an unseen porter. The light of a dim lamp enabled us to find our way upstairs, for no one appeared. The room was already nearly full, the larger portion of the people perhaps being Flemings who, even at the risk of their lives, had thus met together to worship according to their consciences. The preacher was at his desk, the congregation were engaged in singing in a low voice one of the hymns of which I have before spoken. It ceased; when the preacher burst forth into a fervent prayer. He prayed for all present, but especially that his country might be set free from the tyranny under which she groaned, and that all might be able to worship God in the way He desires to be worshipped, in spirit and in truth. Another hymn was sung, God's Word was read, and then the preacher began a discourse which for clearness and eloquence I have never heard surpassed. Every ear was intently listening to the words which dropped from his lips. Except the breathing of his auditors, not a sound was heard. Suddenly there was a loud cry: the report of fire-arms—the trampling of feet—the clashing of swords. A desperate struggle was going on close to us. The congregation sprang to their feet: those who had weapons drew them. At that instant the door was burst open, and the dead body of the man who kept it fell forward into the room. At the entrance was seen a body of Spanish musketeers, with weapons pointed ready to shoot down any who might oppose them. "Beloved brethren, resistance is useless—it is sinful!" exclaimed the preacher, who, being raised above the rest, had observed the strong body of men who guarded the door. "We must yield to superior power. God will know how to avenge His chosen ones."

However, in spite of the exhortations of the preacher, several of the men, who were accompanied by their wives and daughters, attempted to defend them from the rough hands of the soldiery.

"The heretics resist!—the heretics resist!" shouted the Spaniards. "Fire! fire!"

At the fatal word the musketoons were levelled, and sent their deadly missiles whizzing through the air. The hall was filled with smoke— fearful shrieks and cries followed. The bullets had extinguished most of the lights, increasing the gloom. During the wild confusion I led Aveline to the secret door, close to which we were seated; it opened with a spring, and before the smoke cleared away sufficiently for any of the Spaniards to see us, we had passed through. Lifting her in my arms, I bore her rapidly down the narrow stair. I heard footsteps above us; they were those of friends who were endeavouring to escape by the same way. We were in total darkness, but I knew my way. The door at the bottom of the stair opened from within: I had some difficulty in withdrawing the bolts, fearing to make a noise. By this time those who were following had reached me; but I dared not speak to inquire who they were. The door was at length opened, and again lifting Aveline up, I bore her rapidly along the street. The rain had ceased, but the night was unusually dark, and favoured our escape. I dared not stop to ascertain who had escaped with us: I could only hope that they were our friends. I hurried on. Aveline entreated that I would put her down, as she felt fully able to accompany me on foot: I did so at length, and, supporting her on my arm, we took our way towards our abode. The storm had kept the citizens in their houses, so that we met no one; and even the usual guards had been keeping under shelter. Had I not been well acquainted with the city, it would have been impossible for us to find our way; as it was, I had great difficulty in doing so. More than once I feared that I had taken a wrong turning; and had I once become bewildered in that dark night, we might have wandered about till daylight without reaching the house. The porter, knowing that we were from home, was on the watch for us; he opened the instant we rapped at the door. He was a Protestant, and thoroughly trustworthy. He cast an inquiring glance at Aveline's pale face. My looks, too, probably showed that something terrible had occurred. I asked if the rest of the party had returned, and was greatly alarmed to find that they had not. A stranger, he told me, was with Master Clough.

"Shall I wait a few minutes, and see whether they will arrive, before we give the sad information to the factor?" I said to Aveline. She thought we had better go in at once, as no time was to be lost, if possible, in saving our friends from being carried off to prison. I dreaded lest some of them might have been among those killed or wounded by the cruel fire of the Spaniards. Aveline at once agreed to accompany me into the sitting-room, where Master Clough and his visitor then were. The porter assured us that he was an Englishman, and we supposed that there would be no danger in describing what had happened in his presence. I had always considered the factor a very strong-minded man; but when I told him that the meeting had been surprised by the Spanish musketeers, he was almost overcome.

"And my wife!" he exclaimed; "where is she?—why did she not accompany you?"

I explained that Madam Clough was seated at some little distance from me, and that had I waited to assist her in escaping, we should all, to a certainty, have been captured together. "Mistress Radford and I were seated close to the secret door, with which I was fortunately acquainted, or we most certainly should not have escaped," I said.

As I spoke, the stranger started and cast an inquiring glance at Aveline. Till then I had not remarked his appearance, but the movement he made induced me to examine his countenance more closely, and I then recognised the captain of the Falcon.

"Radford!" he exclaimed, starting up and walking towards Aveline. "Is this young lady's name Radford?"

"Yes, sir," said Aveline, lifting her eyes from the ground and looking at him. "It was the name of my father—though, alas! since my infancy I have never known him, nor even whether he is alive or dead."

"And your mother?—can you tell me of her, young lady?" he asked. "Are you her only child, or had she others?"

"I was her only child," answered Aveline, "and, alas! I lost her when very young. She died during the reign of cruel Queen Mary—put to death at Smithfield, because she loved her Bible, and held to Protestant truth."

"And your name is Aveline?" exclaimed the stranger, taking both her hands, and gazing earnestly in her face. "Then it was my beloved wife, your mother, who was thus foully murdered; and you are my own sweet child, for I was her husband! I am Captain Radford. I am your father, Aveline!"

Aveline put her hands on her father's neck as she received his kiss.

"I believe it; I am sure you are," she answered; "for even now, though I was so young when last I saw you, I remember your features, and your voice strikes on my ear like an old familiar sound."

While Captain Radford and Aveline were conversing together, Master Clough made further inquiries concerning what had occurred, and begged that I would accompany him to the place of meeting, to ascertain what had become of the prisoners. Of course, though the risk was very great, I consented immediately, and Captain Radford also desired to accompany us. "My daughter will be safe here, and I cannot let you go alone, my friend," he said. "As Englishmen, we shall not be interfered with."

The two gentlemen put on their cloaks, and taking their swords, we all three sallied out together, and made our way directly to the house I have spoken of. As we approached it, we saw torches blazing up, and found a guard of musketeers at the door. Pretending ignorance of what had happened, we inquired why the guard was posted at the house.

"Some Anabaptists or other heretics have been holding one of their assemblies in this house, and have all been seized, and are about to be carried off to prison," answered the sergeant of the guard.

"Did they yield willingly, or was any resistance made?" I asked, anxious to ascertain, if possible, who had been hurt.

"Indeed there was, and four or five met their deaths in consequence. It was through their own folly. However they have saved the executioner some trouble," answered the soldier.

Deeply grieved at these words, and anxious for the fate of our friends, I inquired if we could see the dead people.

"If it will please you, you are welcome," said the sergeant roughly; "it will be a lesson to the heretics not to hold illegal meetings again. If they wanted really to pray, there are the churches, and there is the mass for them; what more can they desire, unless they are really children of Satan?"

Taking Master Clough's arm, Captain Radford and I led him upstairs after the soldier. We entered a room near the hall. A ghastly sight met our eyes. Thrown carelessly on the floor, in a row, were eight dead bodies, just as they had been dragged out of the hall. Two were females, the rest were men. There had been many more men than women in the room, and, as might have been expected, a greater number of the former had suffered. The scene was one that might have sent a cold shudder through the hearts of people less interested than we were. Poor Master Clough could scarcely force himself to look at the dead bodies. We had to move one of the females to examine her countenance, as she had been thrown down with her face to the ground. Master Clough breathed more freely when he found that neither his wife nor Margery were among them. I was deeply thankful also to find that my friend A'Dale had escaped, dangerous as his position might be. This sad task performed, we hastened below, to inquire of the Spanish sergeant what had become of the prisoners.

"Have you any friends among them?" he asked.

"Yes, my friend, we have," answered Master Clough; "and we will recompense you if you will enable us to see them."

"You Englishmen have no lack of gold, and you will have no lack of friends wherever you go," answered the sergeant. "For the present I cannot leave my post; but I shall very likely be on guard at the prison to-morrow, and then I will assist you, if you will make it worth my while."

"But in the meantime can you tell us where our friends are to be found?" I asked.

"I will send one of my men, and he will show you," whispered the sergeant. "I am prohibited telling you, but you will understand."

He gave a peculiarly knowing look as he spoke. I doubted much whether the fellow was to be trusted; and yet we might obtain what we desired through his assistance. It was important also to find a man so willing to be bribed. By managing him properly, I saw that we might make him of use. The sergeant, telling us to wait, called one of his men, and whispered for some time in his ear.

"It is all arranged," he said, at length; "and you will remember that I consider you my debtors. I am pretty well able to look after my own interests—you will understand that."

We guessed clearly what he meant. However, as much depended upon the amount of gold Master Clough was able to expend, we knew that we should have little difficulty on that score. Should he bribe high enough, not only would the prison doors be open, but the gates of the city likewise, and not only our friends, but others in a like predicament, might be able to make their escape. Antwerp had become every day less and less fitted for our residence; and I knew that, as nearly all my patron's affairs had been wound up, we should have no difficulty in quitting the place at a very short notice. Following our guide, we passed through several streets till we arrived at one of the many new jails which had of late years been established in that unfortunate city. The soldier knocked at the gate. A warder, armed to the teeth, opened it.

"What, more prisoners?" he exclaimed.

"No," answered the soldier, and whispered a few words. "They pay well, though."

I began rather to doubt whether some trick had not been intended, and suggested to my companions that we should be cautious.

"Have two English ladies and a gentleman been brought here?" asked Master Clough.

"We recognise in this place neither ladies nor gentlemen nor nationalities. If we have here any prisoners you may desire to see, we may perchance enable you to accomplish your wish, provided always that you satisfy my just demands for any trouble you may give me."

Knowing well what the man meant, we bestowed on him a gold piece, having given a smaller one to the soldier, who immediately took his departure. We described to the warder the prisoners we desired to see.

"I will speak first to the governor of the jail," answered the man; "for myself, you will understand I can do nothing."

I saw by the leer in his eyes that he knew pretty well that he had us in his power.

"Well," I said, "we will not be ungrateful to the governor either, if he allows us to communicate with our friends."

In a short time the man returned, saying that the governor would speak with us himself, and desired us to follow him. He showed the way upstairs, through several passages, to a room, where, before a well-spread board, at which stood several flagons of wine, we found that functionary, seated in a well-stuffed high-back chair, a large napkin being placed under his chin, and fastened over his shoulders. His height was not great, but his size was prodigious; his cheeks swelling out on either side, scarcely allowed his small grey eyes to be visible. A large dish was on the table, from which he appeared to have helped himself abundantly. We stood before him with our hats in our hands.

"You want to see some prisoners?" he asked, in a somewhat inarticulate voice. "You are all honest men. Well, then, to be frank with you, I should like to see the value you set on them."

At this, without further ado, Master Clough placed several pieces of gold before the governor, who now smiled blandly.

"I see you are sensible men," he observed. "Here, Gruginback, take these people to the room where the last lot of prisoners were placed."

The governor, anxious no longer to be interrupted in his supper, which, for some reason, had been much later than usual, waved his hand, and we, taking our leave of him, followed Gruginback out of the room. With his lantern in his hand, the man led the way down numerous stairs and various passages, till we arrived at the door at the end of a vaulted corridor.

"This is one of our best rooms," he said, as he selected a key from his bunch and at length opened the door.

It was filled almost to suffocation. Some of the people within were lying down, leaning their backs against the walls. Others were sitting in various postures, to occupy as little space as possible. A few were standing up, although there was but little room for them to move. As we entered, from one of the corners where a group of females was collected, Madam Clough, uttering a cry of joy, hurried to meet her husband. She was followed by Margery and A'Dale, who had been sitting near her. He, I saw, was very pale, and from the blood on his arm and over one side of his dress, I feared that he had been wounded.

"Have you come to take us out of this horrid place?" exclaimed Madam Clough. "How brave and loving an act!"

Master Clough, of course, said that he hoped to do so ere long. After comforting our friends as well as we could, Captain Radford and I, accompanying Master Clough, set off to call on the Civil Governor of the city, to obtain from him their liberation. That functionary—Vander Vynck—a creature of Alva, received us with but little ceremony. He was about retiring to bed, after his supper, and did not appear pleased at being disturbed.

"If people attend unlawful meetings, they must take the consequences," he observed, when Master Clough made his report.

"But the meeting was held by an Englishman, and those for whom I plead are all English," answered Master Clough.

"Yes, but natives attended, as can very well be proved," exclaimed the governor. "The report has already reached me. It will go hard with them, for they have no excuse to offer. If you English come into this country, you must abide by its laws. For the security of our holy religion, such meetings are prohibited, and it matters not whether they are held by Englishmen or others. They will shortly be tried; and if, as I doubt not, they are found guilty, they will probably lose their lives. You have had my answer."

Poor Master Clough could say nothing more.

Greatly out of spirits at the ill success of our visit, we left the governor's house.

"We must unlock their prison doors with golden keys," at length said Master Clough. "I have seldom found that fail; but I fear it will go hard with the preacher. If our friend Overton cannot be liberated, these people, who have executed so many others for less offences, will shortly put him to death."

"If we cannot bribe his guards, we must carry him off by force," said Captain Radford. "I shall not lack support; and such a mode of proceeding is more to my taste than bribing these villains."

But the difficulty was to find out where Master Overton was shut up. It might have been in the same prison as the rest of our friends, though it was more probable that he had been carried to some securer jail. Finding nothing more could be done that night, we turned our steps homeward. On entering the house, we found the porter standing pale and trembling, and wringing his hands, while the other servants came hurrying into the hall in a state of the greatest trepidation and alarm.

"What is the matter—what else has happened?" asked Master Clough.

"They have carried her off! It was not our fault—they deceived us. They have borne her away!"

It was now my turn to be anxious.

"Who? who?" I asked, scarcely able to utter the words.

"It is the young lady—Mistress Radford," answered one of the servants.

"Oh! my daughter! where have they borne her to?" cried Captain Radford.

"We know not; we cannot tell," answered the servant.

"Villains! knaves!" exclaimed Master Clough, his Welsh temper rising. "How came you to allow any one to enter the house in my absence? This is an Englishman's house; you should have kept it against all comers."

"Oh! my lord, oh! master, we were deceived!" cried the porter. "The men came pretending to seek you on important business. On finding you were out, they forced their way upstairs, in spite of our opposition, with drawn swords and fire-arms in their hands. We were unprepared, and could not resist. Mistress Aveline was in her room when they rushed in. While two of them stood guard over her, the rest searched the house, pretending to look for fugitives from the meeting-house. But, as they broke open all the chests and bureaux they could find, it was clear that they were in search also of money. We are afraid that they carried away no small amount of property, for each man appeared laden with as much as he could carry, and then, placing the young lady between them, they hastened away from the house."

"Then did none of you think of following them?" exclaimed Master Clough. "For the money I care little compared to the loss of the young lady. Captain Radford, I feel for you; but even now we may discover where she has been taken to. Villains! knaves!" again exclaimed Master Clough, turning to the servants. "Why did not you follow and find out?"

"Oh! good master, they would quickly have killed us if we had attempted to do so; but immediately the strangers disappeared round the corner, Jacob Naas slipped out, and being quick of foot, followed them rapidly. Should he be unable to find them, he said he would return; but as he has now been some time absent, there is no doubt that he has tracked their footsteps, and will perchance ere long bring us tidings of the place where they have bestowed the young lady."

I cannot, even now, speak of my own feelings, nor can I well describe those of Captain Radford, on hearing this alarming account. All we could do was to wait patiently for the return of Jacob Naas. It made me almost forget the dangerous position of our other friends, for the Inquisitors were too apt to put their victims to death first, and to make inquiries respecting them afterwards; and at this time, when people were accused of heresy, a fair trial was never known to take place.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

A VISIT TO BARBARA TROND.

We stood in the hall, anxiously waiting the return of Jacob Naas. Several times I went out into the streets, hoping to meet him. At length I saw a figure coming rapidly out of the gloom of night towards me.

"Jacob, is it you?" I asked, as he drew near.

"Yes, Master Ernst; and I have almost lost my breath through fright and running. I am little accustomed to that."

"But have you found where they have carried her, good Jacob?" I asked eagerly.

"Yes, yes, I will tell you," was the reply; "but I am afraid even now I am followed. We will go into the house before we attempt to speak."

On entering the hall, a glass of wine restored the worthy Jacob's powers of speech.

"I hope they are not coming, though, for they would carry me off to prison too, and perhaps burn me for living in the house of a heretic!" exclaimed Jacob, who, though a Protestant at heart, had of late conformed to the Romish system.

"But say, my good friend, where they have taken Mistress Aveline!" cried Captain Radford.

"I will tell you, sir, if you will have patience," said Jacob. "I soon overtook them after they left the house, but had to keep at a cautious distance, lest I should be seen. They slackened their pace in a short time, and I was then able to keep them easily in view. I judged, from the direction they were taking, that they were making their way to the Water Gate; and my great fear then was, that they might be going out of the city altogether, and I might find it impossible to follow them. I thought of you, Master Ernst, for I knew how grieved you would be. On they went; now taking their way through the narrow streets and lanes in that direction. I had to get nearer than was prudent, for fear of missing them. Several times I was afraid that they would see me, but I suppose they did not. At length I was greatly relieved when I saw the party stop before a house a short distance from the Water Gate. The door opened, and they all went in. I immediately hurried up to the door, on one side of which I contrived with the point of my dagger to make a mark which I am sure I shall know again. What the character of the house is I know not. Just as I was coming away, the door again opened, and I had to run to escape detection. I believe that I was followed, but I soon distanced my pursuers, and for the sake of the young lady I would gladly have run twice the risk I did."

We all, of course, thanked Jacob for the service he had rendered. He promised us that as soon as it was daylight he would gladly set out again with either of us, to try and discover the house into which Aveline had been carried. Master Clough was, however, in the meantime thinking about his wife. We were also interested in the safety of the preacher. Captain Radford longed once more to see him, as the brother of his lost wife.

The rest of the night was spent in a state of feverish anxiety, very often in silence, for after we had discussed our plans for the liberation of our friends, our minds were too much occupied to allow us to speak. Captain Radford's was the boldest plan of all. He proposed to bring the crew of his own ship and that of two or three others into the town, by scaling the walls, which he thought might be done at night; and while one party carried off Aveline from the house where she was retained in captivity, others were to attack the prison in which Madam Clough and her companions were shut up; and a third party was to liberate Master Overton, if his place of imprisonment could be discovered. As soon as morning broke, I called up Jacob, who had gone to sleep, and he, keeping to his intention, accompanied me to try and find out the house to which Aveline had been carried. We waited for some time till people were about the streets, that we might not be remarked, and then took our way hastily towards the Water Gate.

"There is the house, Master Ernst, at the end of this street," said Jacob, at length. "Let us pass by on the opposite side. I think I can distinguish the mark without looking at it too earnestly."

My heart beat quickly, for I thought that even then Aveline might be looking out of the window and observe us, though too probably she would be placed on the opposite side of the house. We went on.

"We must be close up to the door now," observed Jacob, carelessly glancing round. "Yes, there's the mark. Don't look too hard at it, Master Ernst. Yes, I have no doubt about it. And the house—yes, I see—it is one that belonged to Count Aremberg."

I looked up. The door which Jacob indicated formed the side entrance of the house. At one corner was a stout tower, and the whole of the building was of a peculiarly massive construction. It was one of those privileged abodes of the nobles into which no officer of the law could enter without a special warrant from the sovereign himself, or his representative. Count Aremberg, who had lately been killed, had left the city some time before, and the house, it was supposed, was in the hands of the Government. It was, too likely, then, they were turning it into a prison of the Inquisition, or a place of incarceration for particular prisoners. If so, the difficulty of enabling Aveline to escape would be greatly increased. However, it was something to know where she was shut up. We walked along as if we would have gone out at the Water Gate, but at that hour it was closed against us. We therefore returned, inspecting carefully the building in every direction, avoiding as much as possible making ourselves conspicuous. Having accomplished this undertaking, we returned homewards. We found Captain Radford and Master Clough preparing to set out. But it was necessary to spend some further time in consultation. The means of liberating our friends were greatly curtailed by the audacious robbery which had taken place. Master Clough, however, found that the robbers had not penetrated to one of his strong boxes, in which the largest portion of his valuables was kept.

We had still to ascertain where the preacher was imprisoned.

Should it be discovered that he had been a priest, there would be little hope of his being liberated. We must therefore in his case employ stratagem or force. I wished to set out with Master Clough, but he directed me to remain at home and look after the house.

Captain Radford meantime went off to his ship, that he might arrange his plans with his own crew and the crews of some other ships in the harbour.

I felt the inaction I was doomed to endure very much. I would far rather have been engaged in some way or other. I was pacing the room with uneven steps, after my friends had gone, when Jacob Naas presented himself.

"I have been thinking, Master Verner, that we may perhaps get some help from that old woman, Barbara Trond, whom we met out on the heath on the day of the storm some time back. I saw her only a week ago in Antwerp. Soon after the Duke Alva arrived, she returned to Antwerp; but, instead of selling wax tapers and other Popish mummery, finding her calling of sorceress and witch answer so well in the country, she now pursues it in the city. Nothing takes place with which she is not acquainted. The credulity of the Romanists is unbounded, and she finds it pay her well. Now the gold pieces you bestowed on her when we took shelter in her hut evidently won her heart, and it is my belief that if anybody can help us she can; not that I would trust to her heart or her honesty, but far rather to her avarice. If Master Clough will give me leave to go and see her, and supply me with a dozen gold pieces, I have no doubt that, properly bestowed, they will work wonders."

I thought Jacob's plan a good one. I knew that old Barbara's public position had enabled her to become acquainted with a number of people in the city; and from her acuteness and intelligence I thought it likely she would have turned this knowledge to good account. I knew she could gain admittance into places where nobody else could find their way; and if she was determined to carry out an object, she was not the person likely to fail from any want of exertion or from over-delicacy. I wished very much to accompany him, and proposed setting out at once, without waiting for the return of Master Clough. He, however, urged that we should first see the factor, and take his advice; perhaps he might have some other means of liberating Aveline, as well as the preacher, Overton. The time appeared very long while I waited for the return of the factor. I could not help thinking that all sorts of dreadful things might happen to Aveline—that she might be taken away from Antwerp, or placed in the Inquisition and subjected to torture, to try and make her condemn her friends. The last idea was too dreadful to be entertained, and yet such things had been done day after day.

At length Master Clough returned. I inquired eagerly of the success he had had. He shook his head:

"For our friend Overton I have very little hopes," he said. "For my dear wife and her two young companions, I may possibly, by bribing high, succeed, provided they immediately leave the country, undertaking never to return; forsooth, the latter part of the arrangement would be no great punishment, as I cannot conceive any one willingly remaining in a land ruled by that despotic and boastful tyrant, Duke Alva. I was permitted to see my wife, and I was thus able to keep up her spirits. My belief is, that the authorities, who have got her in their power, keep her there, in order to see how much they can draw from me. I am now going forth to endeavour to raise the sum they require; at the same time, I have threatened to make a formal complaint to the Court of Spain of the robbery which has been committed in my house, and of the outrage to my family by the carrying off of one of its members. Of Mistress Aveline I have been unable to gain any information."

I told Master Clough of Jacob's proposal, to which he agreed, and at once placed a purse of gold in my hand, telling me to make the best use of it I could.

"Duke Alva will arrive here to-morrow, I find, for the purpose of being present at the opening of the monument he has erected to himself. As he at present, as far as I can learn, has no wish to quarrel with England, I have hopes that a personal application to him may be successful. At all events, we must leave no stone unturned to gain our object; and, once out of this country, never will I set foot in it again."

Master Clough having drawn out the papers he required for his proposed transaction, set out for the Bourse; while I, disguised as one of his serving-men, accompanied Jacob to the abode of the old fortune-teller. Flemish being my native tongue, it must be remembered I had no difficulty in passing for the character I had assumed; and I thought that, probably, the Dame Barbara would not recognise me.

We hurried on towards the part of the city where Jacob believed she resided; but to find her abode when there among the numberless mean houses which filled that part of Antwerp was not so easy. We had to ask several people, and to go from house to house before we could discover her. Some looked at us suspiciously.

"You want the Witch of Antwerp," said one, at length. "It is dangerous dealing with such as her. Maybe she has brought these miseries on our country; and the people would do well to make her remove them, or to sink her into the middle of the Scheld. However, if you desire to find her, go on to the end of the lane, and then, turning to your right, knock thrice at the first door you find. If she is disposed to admit you, the door will open in as many minutes as the times you have knocked; if not, you will hear her owl hooting from within—that is a sign that you had better make the best of your way from the house, or some evil will befall you."

We thanked our informant—a hard-working artisan of the class which mostly occupied that part of the city—and followed his direction.

On reaching the door, I directed Jacob to knock. I almost expected to hear the owl hoot, but scarcely two minutes had passed before the door slowly opened. We entered, and found ourselves in a dimly-lighted passage. The door closed behind us, without anybody being seen. We had our swords and daggers, and Jacob carried a pistol in his belt, so that, should we be suddenly attacked, we might defend ourselves. We advanced quickly along the passage, till at the farther end we came to another door. Jacob knocked three times with the hilt of his dagger, when the door by unseen agency opened slowly, as the other had done, and we saw a curtain hanging in front of us. On drawing it aside, we found ourselves in a vaulted chamber of considerable size; several lamps hanging from the roof gave sufficient light to show the various objects within. The trade carried on by the old witch must have paid well, as the various articles the chamber contained could not have been procured unless at a considerable expense. There were stuffed animals and creatures of various sorts: a huge crocodile, from the Nile; a vulture, with expanded wings, and talons tearing its prey, at which its bloodshot eyes looked down with an expression of life-like savageness. On one side there was a human skeleton of gigantic proportions, with a club in its hand, in the attitude of striking. Toads and lizards abounded. There were mummy cases, with their lids off, exposing the dried remnants of mortality within. In huge bottles were children, some with two heads, or three arms, and other deformities, hideous and disgusting to look at. There were also all sorts of incomprehensible instruments, but whether constructed for any purpose, or merely for the sake of deception, I could not ascertain. At the farther end of the chamber sat the old witch, habited much as we had seen her in her abode on the heath, with a few fantastic additions, which increased her weird appearance. Beyond her was an open space, and on the ground was seen a fiery line forming a circle. A mist seemed to fill the end of the vault, or else it was a veil so cunningly devised as to represent a mist. Before her, on a tripod, stood her magic cauldron, out of which deep red flames rose up, casting a lurid glare around.

I saw that Jacob looked very pale. He was not prepared for such a scene. He perhaps thought that I, too, had lost my colour; or possibly the nature of the light in the room added to the pallor of our countenances.

The witch took no notice of our approach, but continued her apparent incantations. We advanced slowly between a row of hideous monsters, who grinned down upon us from the pedestals on which they sat or stood. They reminded me somewhat of the deities of an Indian temple, from which possibly they may have been carried away by some Spanish or Portuguese adventurers.

As we drew close to the witch, she waved her wand, and in a low, croaking voice ordered us to stop.

"What seek you with me?" she asked, in the same harsh tone.

"Your assistance, good mother," answered Jacob.

"Good mother, quotha? People don't often call me good. As to whether or not you will or will not obtain my assistance, time will show. We have not met for the first time. I don't forget you, young sir, with a liberal hand. Tell me, however, what you require, and I doubt not that I shall have the power to obtain it for you."

"The task is not an easy one that we desire you to perform, dame," I answered. "I am ready to purchase your services on your own terms; and perhaps, as the affair is altogether connected with this world, we can dispense with your incantations on the occasion, and proceed at once to business."

The old woman uttered a harsh, cackling laugh: "I know not that," she said; "but where work can be done by human means, I have no desire to summon the spirits of the dead to my assistance. See yonder relic of mortality. At my will I can clothe him with flesh and skin and garments, and send him forth to accomplish my behests; but I tell you I often have to pay dear to maintain my power, and therefore would I rather trust to such means as my native wit affords me."

She pointed as she spoke to the skeleton of the giant. I had no wish to dispute the matter with her, however much I might have doubted the power she possessed, though I had great confidence in her wit and knowledge of what was going on in the city. I at once, therefore, explained what had happened—how Master Clough's house had been attacked, and Aveline carried off. I did not at first tell her that we were aware of the place in which she was imprisoned, that I might judge whether she knew anything of the matter. But she must have suspected that we knew more than I told her, for she declared that she could do nothing unless she knew the place in which Aveline was shut up. I accordingly told her that we had discovered the house, and were eager to undertake any plan she might suggest for rescuing her.

"Well, sit down there on those stools," she said, pointing to some which stood on the opposite side of the chamber, "Rest there, and meditate; I must have time to consider the matter. Perchance I may have to consult my familiar, and, if so, you must promise to remain quiet, and not to be alarmed at my proceedings. Is there any other matter about which you desire to consult me?"

I told her of Master Overton's capture, and of our dread lest he might— as so many other Protestants had been—be led to the stake, in spite of his being an Englishman.

"He deserves to die for his folly!" she muttered. "Why not let people remain in their ignorance? If they are once enlightened, they will allow the priests and witches and wizards, and such-like persons, who live on the credulity of their fellow-creatures, to starve and sink into pauper's graves. However, if you pay me well—although I have no love for the man, or such as he—I will honestly win my wages, by doing all I can to obtain his liberation."

"A sensible answer, dame," I replied, being more convinced than ever that the old woman worked rather by art and cunning than by any power she possessed over the spirits of the air or earth.

"Well, young sir, let me hear what means you have at your disposal for liberating the young lady. Can it best be accomplished by force or fraud?"

"That is the very question on which I would consult you," I answered, not wishing to inform her of the plan I proposed, lest she should prove treacherous—for even then I did not altogether confide in her.

"Perchance it might be well to unite the two," she said. "If I can manage to get the young lady to the street-door, think you that you could protect her till you have her safely out of the city? for I warn you that it would not be safe to conduct her back to Master Clough's house."

I did not answer immediately, though the plan she proposed was similar to what I had from the first thought of.

"I will try and find a few trusty friends who will help me in the matter," I answered, "if you can manage to place the young lady in our hands. It must be done, however, without delay."

"You are right, young sir," she answered; "I have thought over the matter. To-morrow our great Duke is to unveil before the eyes of his admiring worshippers the mighty statue he has erected to his own honour. Men's thoughts and tongues will wag different ways, I suspect, at the spectacle; but all will be eager to show themselves present—magistrates and people, soldiers and civilians. The streets will be empty, and many a strong post left unguarded. It is a pity the Prince of Orange has not a few thousand men ready to rush in on one side of the city while the Spanish hero is singing his own praises on the other. However, it will be some time before the Prince can recover his losses; though I tell you, as long as any life remains in the land, he is the man who must take the lead. Now, then, listen to my plan. You have marked the house well, you say. Two hours after noon to-morrow, when the lieges of this city are kneeling before the statue of their tyrant, do you come to the door and knock thrice. I will be within; and if the young lady has not in the meantime been removed, I will find the means of bringing her down and delivering her into your hands. The rest must depend upon your courage and resolution. The risk is great, and so must be my reward."

Knowing well what she meant, I placed a portion of the gold I had received in her hand, and promised her a yet further sum as soon as, through her means, Aveline was rescued.

"And now, dame," I said, recollecting the preacher and his too probable fate, should he not be set at liberty, "what help can you render the other prisoner I spoke of? will gold not find its way to his jailers' hearts?"

"That task would be a more difficult one even than the other," she answered; "yet, could I find out where he is shut up, I might perchance accomplish it."

"Cannot your art help you?" I asked.

She turned a quick glance round at me.

"It is a matter in which I am not disposed to exercise it," she answered. "Now go your ways, and make your arrangements for rescuing the young lady. Come here again to-night at ten o'clock, and perhaps by that time I may be able to give you further information."

Having said this, the old woman, as if suddenly recollecting that she had been too matter-of-fact in the way of dealing with us, went to her cauldron, and poking up the fire, began to mutter various cabalistic words, at the same time stirring its contents with her wand.

Taking this as a sign that she wished our visit to terminate, without further waste of words we returned by the way we had come, the doors opening as before, without our touching the latch, while the last one shut with a loud slam behind us, and we heard bars and bolts immediately drawn across it, showing us that some person had been concealed close to the door. Soon after we reached the house Captain Radford arrived.



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

THE ESCAPE FROM PRISON.

I need not describe the inquiries made by Captain Radford. I briefly explained the plan I proposed for recovering Aveline; he approved of what I had done.

"I can bring a force of twenty seamen, who will fight to the death," he observed; "but I have hopes that we may so manage it as to encounter no opposition. The sea-wall can easily be scaled, and I propose, therefore, to have ladders in readiness, so that, climbing over them, we may avoid the gates. As the Spanish troops will be in the citadel in attendance on Duke Alva, we may manage even in daylight to do so without being observed. The boats will be in readiness to receive us, and we may speedily get aboard my ship."

I do not here mention all the details of our plan. Having arranged it thoroughly, I then told him I had hopes that some means might be found of rescuing Master Overton. For that also he was prepared. His idea was, that if the prison could be found, to force the gates while the troops were away in the citadel. He believed that many of the citizens would unite in the attempt, in the expectation of rescuing their own friends. Indeed, so great was the hatred felt by the great mass of the population towards the Spaniards, that the instant they were removed, without considering the consequences, the people were ready to rise, for the sake of doing any mischief which might present itself.

We found that Master Clough had returned, and once more gone out. We now waited anxiously for his return, as we could do nothing till the evening, when Captain Radford proposed once more going among his brother captains, in order that he might obtain further assistance. We waited and waited. Still he did not appear, and our anxiety increased. At length, as it was growing dusk, and Jacob and I were about to prepare for our expedition, a knock was heard at the door.

"That's the master's!" exclaimed Jacob, hurrying down.

We followed him, when the door opened, and Master Clough appeared with his wife leaning on his arm, followed by A'Dale and Margery. Both were agitated and trembling, and could with difficulty find words to explain what had happened. Till the very moment of their liberation they had believed that they were to share the fate of many of their fellow-prisoners, who, it was reported, were to be carried forth and executed outside the walls on the following day, in honour of the Duke Alva's appearance in the city. How far the report was correct we could not tell, but it had served very naturally to agitate them greatly. They had no time, however, for giving way to their feelings; for the condition of their liberation, Master Clough informed us, was, that they were to leave the city that very evening. If found within the walls by daybreak, they would run the risk of being again incarcerated, and sharing the doom of the numberless Netherlanders put to death by the Blood Council. A'Dale was anxious to hear what I had done; and, in spite of the danger he would have to go through, he insisted on aiding me in the undertaking. But our first care was to see Madam Clough and Margery placed on board Captain Radford's ship. Some time was occupied first in collecting all their jewels and other valuables, loaded with which they bade a hurried adieu to the house they had so long inhabited, and to their domestics. With as many men as could be spared from the house, well-armed, we then set forth, lighted by torches, to the Water Gate, where Captain Radford had his boat waiting. He had a pass ready, so that the rest of the party had no difficulty in getting through the gates. Jacob and I, having seen them thus far safely on their way, turned back, in order to pay our promised visit to the old witch. As we walked down to the gate, A'Dale told me that he had resolved to return on shore again at all risks, if there was any work to be done. I briefly told him the plans for rescuing Aveline. "That will just suit my taste," he answered. "I would rather, if a blow is to be struck, be ready to join in the fray."

As soon as Jacob and I had seen my friends through the gates, we returned into the city, and made the best of our way towards the abode of Barbara Trond. The door opened as before, and we entered the vaulted chamber. She was seated, as she had been at the first visit, before her cauldron, as if busily employed in her incantations. There was, however, the smell of a rich stew, and I saw a vessel steaming away on one side of me from which it appeared to proceed. I had little doubt, therefore, that the old woman was not unmindful of her creature comforts. It was most likely that she had only put on her cauldron as our knock was heard at the door. But she would probably be more useful to us by the information she managed to pick up in the world than by her sorceries.

"I judge that you are my visitors," she said; and putting aside her magic wand, she turned round, as if to discuss matters in a matter-of-fact way.

"Now, my young sir, do you think you possess sufficient courage and nerve to enter one of the prisons of the Blood Council? If you do, I may promise you the freedom of your friend. But recollect the risk you run is a very fearful one. If you are captured, your life will pay the penalty."

I replied that I would run every risk for the sake of saving the life of my friend, and asked what plan she proposed.

"I have, you understand, assistants in every direction," she said. "I have made it to be understood that the minister, Overton, would, if duly instructed, be disposed to return to the old faith. I have therefore suggested that a certain learned friar should be allowed to visit him, who will bring forward such irresistible arguments that he will be unable to withstand them. I have bribed the guards to shut their eyes, should they observe anything suspicious, especially if two friars are seen to go out instead of the one who might have entered. Now see!"

As the old woman spoke, she rose and took from a chest on one side of the room two bundles.

"Here are two friars' dresses, with all things requisite," she observed. "Do you dress in one of them, and conceal the other round your body beneath your gown. I have a pass ready to admit you into the prison; when there, I must leave the rest to your discretion and judgment. To-morrow before noon will be the best time to visit the prison, when the attention of the people will be drawn off towards the ceremony I was describing to you. This will give you time to see your friend in safety, and to assist in the rescue of the young lady."

My spirits rose on hearing the plan of the old woman; and I should then and there have given her the whole of the money with which I hoped to bribe her, had I not thought it possible she might take the bribe and neglect to perform her part of the contract. Having a great deal to do, I took leave of her as soon as these arrangements were made, and hastened back to Master Clough's house.

Here I was engaged till daylight in seeing his property packed, which was to be shipped in the morning, and in making arrangements with the clerks and servants who were still to remain. At length, overcome, I lay down for an hour on my bed, charging Jacob to call me in ample time to prepare for my hazardous undertaking. When I arose again I need scarcely say that I prayed earnestly for protection, that all those in whom I was interested might escape from the dangers which surrounded us. I had still much to do, so there was but little time for thought. My chief consolation was, that should I fail and be captured—when I knew that my death would be certain—I should leave Aveline under the guardianship of her father. She would mourn for me, but would, I trusted, in time, find a balm for her sorrow.

Antwerp was full of prisons, many of the residences of the murdered burghers and nobles having been converted for that purpose. Dame Trond had, however, indicated clearly the one in which Overton was confined. As the hour approached, accompanied by Jacob Naas, I took my way to a spot near the city walls, where a deep archway existed. The neighbourhood was little frequented, and we there hoped that I might be able unperceived to put on the friar's dress. The change could very quickly be made, so that there was not much risk of being interrupted, while Jacob kept watch outside, to give due notice of the approach of any intruder. I sallied forth, still in my servant's dress, with the faithful Jacob. I did not for a moment conceal from myself the danger of the undertaking. We hastened along, with two small valises containing the dresses on our shoulders, like a couple of serving-men carrying their master's property, looking as unconcerned as possible when we met any passers-by. I encountered several persons who knew me, and looked at me very hard; but the change of dress had so altered me, that they evidently thought they must be mistaken.