CHAPTER SIX.

The inhabitants of Leyden were already fearfully hard pressed for food. Their bread was entirely consumed; they had but a small supply of malt cake, with a few cows—kept as long as possible for their milk—besides these an equal number of horses and sheep; but every day these provisions were becoming more and more scanty, and unless they could speedily be relieved, starvation threatened them. The burgomaster and Council were assembled when a letter which had been sent in from Valdez, with a flag of truce, was received. The burgomaster read it aloud. It offered an amnesty to all Hollanders, except a few mentioned by name, provided they would return to their allegiance; it promised forgiveness, fortified by a Papal Bull which had been issued by Gregory the Thirteenth to those Netherland sinners who duly repented and sought absolution for their sins, even though they sinned more than seven times seven. Besides this public letter were received epistles despatched by the "Glippers" from the camp to their rebellious acquaintances in the city, exhorting them to submission, and imploring them to take pity upon their poor old fathers, their daughters, and their wives.

"What say you, my friends?" exclaimed the burgomaster, who read these letters aloud. "The Spanish general offers us free pardon for defending our hearths and homes as we have hitherto done, and by God's grace we will continue to do. The same plausible offers Don Frederic made to the citizens of Haarlem. And what happened? The slaughter which overtook old and young alike, their city plundered, their homes ruined, can testify as to the value of such offers. Shall we share their fate, or shall we hold out like men until the relief, which assuredly will come, arrives, although we have only malt cake to live upon, and but little of that, and a few cows, horses, goats, and dogs; and as to the remark of these 'Glippers,' the best pity we can show our poor old fathers, daughters, and wives is to keep them from the clutches of the Spanish soldiery."

"We will fight to the last! We will fight to the last!" was the unanimous response taken up by all the citizens in the streets. It was agreed that no answer should be sent to the Spanish general; indeed some proposed hanging the herald, who was glad to make his escape with a single line in Latin, on a sheet of paper, handed to him—

"When the trapper seeks to lure his bird, he softly plays his pipe."

Good care was taken that the herald should see nothing going on within the walls, or be able to report a word about the haggard countenances of the defenders. From their frowning looks and taunting expressions he was probably glad to escape with his life. Meantime the condition of the inhabitants became worse and worse.

Jaqueline, with other maidens and matrons of rank, had formed themselves into a band to carry such relief as they could obtain for the sufferers. Day after day they nobly prosecuted their self-imposed duties, and many by their means were aided who might otherwise have perished. Returning one evening to her tower to attend her remaining pigeons, which as yet she had not allowed to be killed in the hopes that they might serve some useful purpose, after feeding them as was her wont, she was seated at the window, inhaling the pure air which the lower part of the city had failed to afford, when she observed a white spot in the sky glittering in the rays of the setting sun. Nearer and nearer it came till she perceived that it was a bird. It soon flew in at the window and alighted in her arms. It was one of her own pigeons; beneath its wing she discovered, securely fastened by a silken thread, a small folded paper. Quickly untieing and releasing her bird, which she placed with its companions, she hurried down with the document to her father. It was, as she hoped, from Captain Van der Elst, written by the directions of the Prince. He assured the citizens that he was already preparing the promised aid, and that he hoped all difficulties would soon be overcome. He again reminded the garrison of Leyden that the fate of their country depended on their holding out. The captain did not say, what was really the case, that the Prince himself was lying ill of a fever at Rotterdam, and that unforeseen delays had occurred. As may be supposed he added a few words of his own to be read only by Jaqueline, who would, he trusted, receive the epistle. The burgomaster lost no time in communicating the contents of the letter to the brave commandant. The despatch served to revive the drooping spirits of the garrison; still there was a further delay. Again the Spaniards attacked the walls and were once more repulsed, but the numbers of the garrison were slowly though surely decreasing, yet neither the burgomaster nor John Van der Does entertained a thought of submission. As only one of the pigeons had returned, Jaqueline hoped that another might soon appear bringing more certain news of relief. She paid, as may be supposed, frequent visits to her tower, gazing in the direction when she hoped her winged messenger would appear. Her numerous duties compelled her frequently to be absent, but each time she returned home she hurried there, as often to be disappointed. She had risen one morning rather later than usual from her couch, when going to the tower she perceived that the number of her pigeons was increased, quickly searching out the new arrival she discovered, as she had expected, a letter below its wing, it was longer than the previous one. As the burgomaster, to whom she carried it, read the news it contained his eyes brightened. It was from the Prince himself; it said that the sluices at Rotterdam and Schiedam had been opened, that the dykes were all pierced, that the water was rising upon the Land-Scheiding, the great outer barrier which separated the city from the sea; that he had a fleet of two-hundred vessels in readiness stored with provisions, under the command of Admiral Boisot, and that as soon as there was sufficient depth of water, the fleet would fight its way to the walls of Leyden and bring the citizens relief.

"This is indeed joyous news!" exclaimed the burgomaster. He at once directed Berthold to summon the city musicians to meet him, with their instruments, in the market-place, to which, accompanied by Jaqueline, he immediately repaired. He knew that many of the chief citizens would soon collect there. Taking the letter, he read it publicly, when the bands of music striking up, marched through the streets playing lively melodies and martial airs. The bells rang out merry tunes, and salvos of cannon were fired not at the foe but at brief intervals, to give indubitable signs that the city was rejoicing.

"These scenes will astonish our enemies, who will at first be unable to comprehend their import, but I've an idea they will soon find out, and may deem it wise to decamp," exclaimed Berthold. Albert proposed making a sortie to attack the Spaniards before they had recovered from their astonishment at hearing the joyful sounds from the city, and seeing the waters flowing over the land.

"No! no!" answered the commandant. "Many valuable lives might be sacrificed, and the ocean will ere long fight for us far more effectually than our swords."

The burgomaster, generally accompanied by Jaqueline, paid frequent visits to Hengist Tower.

Already from its summit the waters could be seen covering spaces which had hitherto been dry land, the canals having in many places risen ten inches and were overflowing their banks, though the great dyke five miles off still prevented the flood from reaching the Spanish camp. The had one evening gone there with Berthold and Albert, who were especially eager in watching the rise of the flood. Already in the far distance the rays of the sun glittered on the rising waters, where hitherto only green fields and orchards had been seen, but between that shining expanse and the city lay about five miles off the Land-Scheiding, a strong dyke which had been spoken of, and within it were also several circumvallations thrown up to defend the city from the encroachments of the ocean. These all had to be passed before the fleet could reach the walls. Though there were canals navigable at all times by vessels of small burden, the Land-Scheiding was still a foot and a half above the water, forming an impassable barrier, besides which in the intermediate space were numerous villages held by the king's troops. While the two lads were standing somewhat apart from the burgomaster and Jaqueline they observed a person approaching the tower. "It is that fellow Van Arenberg," whispered Albert. "I wonder he has ventured to remain so long in the city, he might all this time have been with the Spaniards, whom he is so constantly praising and advising the people to confide in. When the fighting is going on he is never to be seen on the ramparts, and though he receives his rations I suspect that it is only a make-believe, and that he has a secret store of provisions in his own house."

"It would not do to say that to the burgomaster," observed Berthold. "He still believes him to be honest, though wanting in spirit, and would, I suspect, even now let Jaqueline marry him if he were to press his suit and she were to consent."

"That is not very likely to happen," said Albert. "She would be more ready to marry Captain Van der Elst."

"I do not know," answered Berthold. "During our journey he never, that I recollect, once spoke to me about her; but here comes the baron, we had better keep out of his way, for if I meet him I shall be inclined to say something he won't like."

The baron, who certainly seemed to have suffered less than most of the inhabitants of Leyden from scanty food and constant watching, now reaching the top of the tower approached the burgomaster and Jaqueline. Having in his usual courteous and polished manner paid his respects to the Lily and her father, he pointed southward.

"You are looking out there, I conclude, for the appearance of admiral Boisot and his Sea Beggars, but I fear that we shall look in vain; his flotilla may reach the Land-Scheiding, but beyond that no mortal power can enable his ships to advance; even should they pierce it, as the Prince expects, it is impossible that they can pass all those other barriers with the victorious troops of Valdez opposing them and garrisoning every village and fort."

"God can make a way if man cannot," answered the burgomaster.

"But He may not think fit to make one for those daring outlaws to reach Leyden," said the baron. "Would that I could hope that relief was likely to come, but I have long despaired, as you know, of obtaining it, and I have sought you, Burgomaster, to entreat you that even should you consider it your duty to remain you will allow me to escort your fair daughter to some place where she may escape the unspeakable miseries which are gathering round the inhabitants of this unhappy city. I can, through some influential friends, obtain a safe pass from Valdez, and can also through their means arrange for her secret departure from the city, so that whatever happens she will at all events be preserved."

"Even should she wish it, my duty to my fellow-citizens will prevent me from permitting her to go," answered the burgomaster. "Her departure would tend to dishearten those who have already sufficient to try them; but you may ask her."

Jaqueline had, while the baron was speaking to her father, withdrawn from his side, and was about to join her cousin and Albert when the young noble approached her. In carefully measured words he spoke of his love and devotion, and offering his hand and heart, entreated her at once to become his wife that he might be able to rescue her from the dangers by which she was surrounded.

"I have your father's permission," he added, "and whatever opinion he may consider it his duty to express publicly I cannot but believe that his mind will be greatly relieved when he knows that you are beyond the reach of harm."

"It may be that you have my father's permission to speak to me," she answered, "but he would never counsel me to play a dastard's part and dishearten my fellow-citizens, whom I am bound to encourage. Understand, Ernst Van Arenberg, sooner would I remain among those who are stricken down every day by famine and pestilence, and share their fate, if God so wills it, than wed one who traitorously counsels submission to the foe."

As she spoke she fixed her clear blue eyes on him with a look the meaning of which he could not misinterpret, for it showed the scorn his proposal had inspired. He might have seen that his cause was hopeless, yet he could not even now abandon her, and was again about to speak when Berthold and Albert came up with an independent air, the former exclaiming—

"Look out there, Jaqueline! Look out, your eyes are keen enough to see the sun shining on some score of white sails far away to the southward; they form, I doubt not, the vanguard of a relieving fleet, and before long the Spaniards, the 'Glippers,' and their friends will be scampering off to escape being overwhelmed by the rising tide."

"It is high time for you, Baron, to go and give the Spaniards warning if you wish to serve them a good turn," said Albert.

The baron frowned at the lad, who looked so unconscious of having said anything disagreeable that he did not venture to reply. At length the burgomaster, addressing Jaqueline, proposed to return home, and desired his nephew and Albert to follow him, but a word from Jaqueline prevented him from inviting the baron, as he might otherwise have done, to his house. Van Arenberg descended the steps close behind them, but receiving no intimation that he might accompany them from Jaqueline or her father, he was compelled to lift his beaver, which he did with a somewhat haughty air, and without taking the slightest notice of the lads, walked away in an opposite direction. The burgomaster, who had overheard some of the boy's remarks, chided them for speaking so rudely to the baron.

"Though the opinion you have formed of him is, I fear, right, it becomes you not thus to address a person so much your senior in age as well as in rank," he said.

Jaqueline, however, interfered, and told her father that she was thankful to them for coming so opportunely to her assistance, and preventing her from uttering expressions which the baron might have deemed far more severe than anything her cousin and Albert could say.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

Jaqueline had welcomed a third of her white-winged birds to her tower. The pigeon bore a letter dictated by Admiral Boisot, though she recognised the handwriting of Captain Van der Elst. It stated that the fleet led by an enormous vessel, the "Ark of Delft," with shot-proof bulwarks, and moved by paddle-wheels turned by a crank, had reached the Land-Scheiding, and that he hoped, ere long, the large dyke would be broken through and that the way would be opened to the very walls of the city. The Prince also sent a message urging the citizens yet longer to hold out, reminding them that with Leyden all Holland must also perish. This letter for a time greatly encouraged the suffering garrison; those who understood the nature of the undertaking were aware that much depended on the direction of the wind. An easterly gale was calculated to blow back the waters and prevent their rising, while one from the south or west would force them on towards the city. The wind was now blowing from the cast and the tides were at their lowest, so that the waters were making but slow progress. Still the loyal-hearted among the population, trusting to their Prince's promises, were assured that if it was in the power of human help they would in time be relieved. The "Glippers," however, who professed to know the country well, ridiculed the desperate project. Those in the town taunted their fellow-citizens, frequently crying out, "Go up to the tower and tell us if you can see the ocean coming over the dry land to our relief." Day after day they did go up, hoping, praying, fearing, and at last almost despairing of relief from God or man. Letters were also daily received from those with Valdez urging the inhabitants to spare themselves further suffering. Young Albert and Berthold had made themselves especially useful by going round the ramparts, not once or twice a day, but many times during the day and night, at all hours, so that they might not only see that the sentinels were keeping a vigilant watch, but that they might be able to discover treachery should any have been attempted. They had one evening gone to the top of Hengist's Tower, a spot they were especially fond of visiting at all hours of the day and night, when they saw the hitherto dark sky to the southward suddenly illumined by bright flashes of light following one another in rapid succession.

"Hark, I can hear the roar of guns," exclaimed Berthold. They listened, there was no doubt about it. The flashes continued, now fires blazed up in various directions. There was more firing, not always in the same place, the tide of battle was evidently moving on. The lads were at length joined by several citizens.

"The Sea Beggars are coming!" shouted Albert, unwittingly, "they are fighting their way towards us."

"We must not be too sanguine," observed one of the citizens. "There may be fighting taking place, but we cannot tell who is gaining the victory. It may be that the Spaniards are driving back our friends."

"I am very sure that they are not," cried Albert. "Admiral Boisot and his gallant followers are victorious—of that I am certain."

"Count Louis and his whole army were cut to pieces not long ago," remarked this citizen, in a melancholy tone. The mystery was not solved that night, and the whole of the next day went by without any information having been received of what had taken place.

The following night the two lads were passing along the top of the wall in the neighbourhood of the Cowgate, looking southward, when they caught sight of the figure of a person close below them who had suddenly come into view.

"Send me down a rope and be quick about it, or I may be caught by the Spaniards, for they are close upon me," he exclaimed.

"They will scarcely venture within range of our guns," said Berthold. "But we will haul you up as soon as we can get a rope."

"I know where to find one not far off," said Albert, and he hurried away, while Berthold summoned two or three of the guard to the assistance of the stranger. Albert quickly returned with a rope of sufficient length and strength. Scarcely was it lowered when the stranger hauled himself up with the agility of a monkey.

"Don't you remember me?" he said, looking at Berthold. "I am Hans Bosch, you know that you can trust me; I have accompanied Captain Van der Elst, and he will be up here before long. I have led the Spanish guard a pretty dance to draw off their attention, that he might the more easily pass by them. I don't think they are likely to have caught him, though if he does not appear soon I must go back again. I know part of his message, which I may give if he does not appear, but I hope that he will deliver it himself."

This news so greatly excited Berthold and Albert that they were much inclined to set out with Hans to look for their friend, but he advised them to do nothing of the sort.

"They might as well try to catch a Will-o'-the-Wisp as me," he said, "but they would trap you in a moment. No, no; if I go, I go alone."

At length, to their great joy, another figure was seen.

"Quick! quick! That's him!" exclaimed Hans. "That's the captain. Quick! quick! The chances are he has a dozen Spaniards at his heels!"

The rope was lowered, and the captain was quickly hauled up to to the top of the wall. He shook Albert and Berthold warmly by the hand.

"I must lose no time," he said, "in reporting to the burgomaster and commandant the steps the Prince has taken for the relief of the city. You are undoubtedly eager to hear, but I must reserve my report for your ciders."

The two lads hastened on with their friend, and fortunately found the burgomaster in consultation with the commandant. The boys stood eagerly listening while the captain delivered his message.

"You heard that the admiral had received directions from the Prince to take possession of the Land-Scheiding. This was done two nights ago. But a few Spaniards were found stationed on the dyke, and they were quickly driven off when we fortified ourselves upon it. In the morning the enemy endeavoured to recover the lost ground, and attacked us in considerable force, but we drove them back, they leaving hundreds of dead on the field. No time was lost in breaking through the dyke in several places. The water rushing on, the fleet sailed through the gaps; but, to our disappointment, we found another dyke, that of the Greenway, three quarters of a mile further on, rising at least a foot above the waters. This had also been left ill-protected, and our admiral promptly attacking it, took possession, and levelling it in many places, brought the flotilla over its ruins. Soon afterwards, however, the further progress of the fleet was arrested by the shallowness of the water; but our admiral, knowing the anxiety you must be feeling, dispatched me to inform you of this, and to assure you that he waits but the rising of the tide and a favourable wind to bring you succour."

The news was thus far satisfactory, and the captain was warmly thanked for bringing it, but that he received his reward when at the burgomaster's invitation he accompanied him home, there could be little doubt.

The wind, however, still blew from the east, and the inhabitants well knew that as long as it came from that quarter they must look in vain for the wished-for ocean to reach their walls.

Day after day the siege continued; the inhabitants were suffering not only from famine, but from pestilence, produced by the scantiness of their food. Hapless infants were starved to death, mothers dropped dead in the streets with their dead children in their arms, and in many a house the watchmen in their rounds found whole families of corpses, father, mother, and children, lying side by side, struck down by pestilence. Bread, malt cake, and horse-flesh had entirely disappeared. A small number of cows had been kept as long as possible for their milk, but a few of these were killed from day to day, and distributed in minute proportions, scarcely, however, sufficient to support life among the famishing population, while their hides chopped and boiled were greedily devoured. Green leaves were stripped from the trees, every living herb was converted into human food; dogs and rats were caught and eaten. Still, although papers offering a free pardon were sent into the city, the inhabitants spurned them, and refused to listen to treacherous promises of the foe.

The commandant was anxious to send a trusty messenger to the Prince, and while pointing out the urgent necessity for relief, promising to resist to the last.

"Will you return, Captain Van der Elst?" he asked of Karl, who was in attendance on him. "I dare not order any man on so desperate an undertaking, for the Spaniards keep a vigilant watch, and will have no mercy on any one whom they capture."

"If it were to certain death, I would go," answered Karl. "And I place my services at your disposal. At the same time the danger is not so great as you suppose. Several of the forts in the lower ground have been flooded, and the trenches filled with water, so that the Spaniards have been compelled to evacuate them, and thus to those who are acquainted with their position the way is far more open than it has been heretofore, while numerous sentries at the outposts have been withdrawn."

"To-night be prepared to set out; a skiff shall be in readiness having served at sea, you know well how to manage her," answered the commandant.

Karl took his leave, and repaired to the house of the burgomaster to receive any message he might desire to send. He might have had another motive. He found the chief magistrate and his daughter seated alone. Though suffering from the severe privation she had undergone in common with the rest of the population, if possible the Lily looked more lovely than ever. She smiled as the young soldier entered, but her lip trembled on hearing of the duty he had undertaken, yet not a word did she utter to dissuade him from it.

"My prayers will be offered that Heaven protect you," she murmured, in a low voice as he approached her, while the burgomaster was writing some brief notes.

"I trust that I may return, perhaps ere many hours are over, on board the fleet to bring you succour," he answered. "You will know of our approach, for our guns will thunder against the fortresses of the enemy when the waters rise sufficiently to enable us to advance."

"The wind still blows from the cast and keeps back the fleet," she observed.

"But the wind may ere long change, and depend upon it our brave admiral and his 'Sea Beggars' will not linger the moment there is sufficient water to float their ships," said Karl, in an encouraging tone. When her eyes were lifted towards his countenance, their expression was very different to that with which she had regarded the baron. With natural reluctance Karl, having received his dispatches, at length rose to take leave and prepare for his enterprise. As there were traitors within the gates he kept all his arrangements secret. They were known only to his two young friends and Hans Bosch, who undertook to accompany him. Not till late on the following day was it even known that he had set out when the burgomaster announced that he had despatched another messenger to entreat their friends to hasten to their relief. Desperate as had been the state of matters in the besieged city, they hourly became worse. Leyden, indeed, appeared to be at its last gasp. The noble burgomaster maintained his heroic bearing, ever moving about to encourage the wavering and to revive the drooping spirits of the loyal; but a trial greater than any he had yet had to endure was in store for him.

Jaqueline had from the first employed herself in going among the sick and suffering, and carrying such relief as she was able to afford, and consoling the afflicted ones from that Book in which true comfort alone can be found. In these active duties she found her chief solace. Not only was she enduring physical suffering! but no certain tidings had been received of Captain Van der Elst, and reports were current that he had been captured by the Spaniards, it being well known that if such was the case a cruel death must have been his fate. One evening the Lily was returning to her home from one of her expeditions of mercy, attended by Margaret, an old and faithful servant, who was her constant companion. As darkness was already overspreading the city, she hurried on, unwilling to be out so late at night, when she was accosted by a poor woman, who, with a piteous tale, too likely to be true, entreated that she would visit her perishing family. Without hesitation she desired Margaret to return home and obtain such scanty provisions as remained, while she accompanied the suppliant. Margaret, having collected a small amount of food, hurried back to rejoin her mistress at the address given by the woman who had spoken to her, but no living beings were in the house; three corpses alone lay on the floor. Margaret, without a moment's loss of time, went to all the neighbouring houses, inquiring for the Vrouw Jaqueline, but no one had seen her. Almost frantic she hurried through the streets of the city, but her search was fruitless. At last she went back with the overwhelming intelligence, which she entreated Berthold to break to his uncle. The burgomaster, who had hitherto held out so bravely, for a moment seemed stunned, but quickly recovering himself he directed Berthold to send all the servants of the house to him, but no one was able to afford the slightest information to account for Jaqueline's disappearance.

"I would lay my life that the Baron Van Arenberg has had something to do with it," exclaimed Berthold. "If you will let me I will get Albert and we will go to his house. We shall soon judge by the way he receives the intelligence whether he knows anything about the matter." Berthold received the leave he requested, while the burgomaster himself forthwith sent a band of watchmen round in all directions through the town in search of Jaqueline, while he called at numerous houses and visited all the friends on whom he could rely to obtain their assistance in the search. The first to make their appearance at his house were Albert and Berthold.

"We were right," they exclaimed. "The baron's servants know nothing of him; he left home at an early hour this afternoon, and has not since returned. Most of his domestics, who were 'Glippers,' have long ago made their escape. The watchmen in the course of the night came in with equally unsatisfactory reports—not a trace of the Vrouw Jaqueline had been discovered."

"May God protect my child," exclaimed the burgomaster, bowing his head. "She is beyond human aid."

No one would have believed from his appearance the next morning, when he left his home to attend to his magisterial duties, that a deep domestic sorrow had overtaken him. He started as he quitted his door, for there, on the very threshold, lay a dead body, thus placed as if to reproach him for his stern determination in holding out.

"We shall all soon be like him who lies there," cried many voices.

"It were better to have yielded than have been compelled to endure such suffering," shouted others.

Unheeding them, the burgomaster proceeded to a triangular space in the centre of the town, into which many of the principal streets opened, and in which stood the church of Saint Pancras, two ancient lime trees growing on either side of the entrance now stripped bare of leaves by the famishing people. Ascending the steps, Adrian Van der Werf stopped while he regarded the numberless angry faces turned towards him. For a moment he stood there, his figure tall and imposing, his visage dark and haggard, his eye yet tranquil and commanding, and then waving his broad-brimmed hat for silence, he exclaimed, "What would you, my friends? Why do you murmur that we do not break our vows and surrender our city to the Spaniards, a fate more horrible than the agony which she now endures? I tell you I have made a vow to hold the city, and may God give me strength to keep it. I can die but once, whether by your hands, by the enemy's, or by the hand of God. My own fate is indifferent to me, not so that of the city entrusted to our care. I know that we shall soon starve, but starvation is preferable to the dishonoured death which is the only alternative. Your menaces move me not. My life is at your disposal. Here is my sword, plunge it into my breast and divide my flesh among you, take my body to appease your hunger, but expect no surrender as long as I remain alive."

The words of the brave burgomaster inspired a new courage in the hearts of those who heard him. Shouts of applause and defiance rose from the famishing, but enthusiastic crowd, they hurried to the ramparts to hurl renewed defiance at the enemy.

"Ye call us rat-eaters and dog-eaters," they cried; "so long as ye hear a dog bark or a cat mew within the walls ye may know that the city holds out; when the last hour has come, we will with our own hands set fire to the houses and perish in the flames rather than suffer our homes to be polluted and our liberties to be crushed."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

Truly it has been said that Leyden was sublime in its despair. Day after day went by and yet no relief came, but the wind, which had long blown steadily from the cast, suddenly changed to the westward. At length Albert and Berthold, who had regularly visited Jaqueline's tower, discovered the fourth pigeon. They eagerly examined its wing, beneath it was a letter which came from the admiral. The fleet had reached North Aa, and in a few days at furthest he expected to reach the gates of the city. The burgomaster read the letter as before in the market-place, and the bells rang out a joyous peal. Once more, however, the wind shifted, and the hopes of the garrison of Leyden sank to the lowest ebb.

We must now return to the evening when Jaqueline, having sent her attendant Margaret to obtain provisions for the suffering family, accompanied the woman who had supplicated her. Suddenly, as she was passing close to a canal, she found herself lifted from her feet, while a thick cloak was thrown over her. In vain she attempted to shriek for help, in another instant she heard the splash of oars.

"Do not fear, you are in the safe keeping of one who desires to save you from horrible suffering and death," whispered a voice in her ear. Notwithstanding these assurances, Jaqueline entreated that she might be placed on shore, and endeavoured by her cries to attract the attention of any who might be passing. Vain were her efforts, the thick folds of the cloak prevented her voice being heard, while a heavy mist, together with the shades of night, shrouded the canal as the boat glided forward. Jaqueline knew that the canal extended out beneath the city walls, and she hoped that the boat would be challenged as it passed under them and be compelled to put to shore. Keeping silent, she resolved to take the opportunity of making another effort to escape from her captors; as the spot was approached, however, she felt a hand pressed on her mouth. In vain she struggled to free herself, she heard the sign and counter-sign given, and the boat impelled by four sturdy rowers soon left the city walls behind. Strange as it might seem, thinking more of the safety of her townsmen than of herself, the idea occurred to her that if persons could thus, undiscovered, leave the city, an armed force might be introduced by the gates, and disastrous might be the consequences. She was, she had reason to fear, being carried to the Spanish camp, but who could have been guilty of so treacherous an act? She was not left long in doubt, the person who had before addressed her in a subdued tone now raised his voice, and she recognised it as that of Van Arenberg. For some time she could not sufficiently command herself to speak, at length, however, she said in a calm tone, "I will not pretend to be ignorant that it is you who have committed this unwarrantable act of violence, and I insist that you carry me back to the city and restore me to my father, his mental anxiety already so overwhelming, when he finds that I am lost, may bring him to the grave."

"I have but acted, my beloved Jaqueline, as you would secretly wish, to save you from that destruction which must, ere many days have passed, descend on the city. My object is to carry you to a place of safety, all I ask being your hand and love."

"The former I will not give, the other I cannot bestow," answered Jaqueline, firmly. "Had I before been willing in obedience to my father's wishes to try and love you, the outrage you have committed would have changed my sentiments, and I again insist that you return with me to the city."

"To do so is utterly impossible," answered Van Arenberg. "The sentries, as we passed beneath the fortress of Zoeterwoude, nearly detected the boat, and we should certainly be captured were we to make the attempt. We will now, therefore, proceed towards Delft, where you will be among friends, and safe from the foes you dread."

Jaqueline greatly doubted that the baron spoke the truth. Again and again she insisted, notwithstanding all the risks they might run, that they should return to the city. She saw at length that all expostulation was useless, the darkness of night prevented her from observing the direction they were taking. Suddenly the sound of heavy guns broke on her ear, followed by the rattle of musketry. Looking southward she saw bright flashes glancing over the water in rapid succession; she thought, too, that she could even hear the shouts of the combatants, the clashing of swords and battle-axes. It was evident that a fierce fight was raging in that direction. The rowers, who had hitherto been exerting themselves to the utmost, paused, and exchanged a few hurried words. It appeared to her that they had lost their way, for many new channels, deepened by the inflowing waters, branched off on every hand.

Van Arenberg ordered them to row on.

"In what direction shall we go?" asked one of the men. "We may chance to run our noses into the lion's den. See, fires are blazing on all sides, and friends and foes are likely to treat us in the same fashion." Van Arenberg, anxious for Jaqueline's safety, and perhaps for his own, urged his crew to row away from the point where the engagement appeared to be raging most furiously. Already round shot and bullets came flying across the water, and a stray one might chance to hit the boat. The men appeared undecided which way to go, when one of them cried out, "There's a boat astern! She may, perchance, be that of an enemy, and if so we shall to a certainty be knocked on the head."

"Row then for your lives!" cried Van Arenberg, for he had equally to fear the Hollanders and Spaniards; the latter, not aware of his treachery, might, before he could show his pass, shoot him down or run him through with their pikes, while his own countrymen would treat him as a hated renegade. The crew, needing no second bidding, bent to their oars with all the strength they possessed. Their flight was, however, discovered by the boat they had seen, which immediately gave chase. Jaqueline believed that their pursuers were Spaniards, and was as eager to escape as the baron, but sturdily as the crew of the villagers whom he had hired plied their oars, the others came on faster. The night was so dark that it was impossible to distinguish objects ahead. At any moment they might find themselves stranded on the shore, or stopped by some impassable shallow. The baron now urged the men to be cautious, now to row with might and main.

Ever and anon the glare from the burning villages, and from fires on the dykes, showed that the boat in chase was gaining on them.

"It were far better to stop and fight," cried the chief man of the crew. "As to escaping, there is no chance of that in the end, for the fellows astern have a much lighter boat than ours."

"Fifty guilders if you beat them off," cried the baron. "Lady, you must lie down at the bottom of the boat, or you may chance to be struck by a shot, or injured by the pikes of our pursuers, should they overtake us."

"I fear less the weapons of our foes than I do your designs," answered Jaqueline, with a tone of scorn, retaining her seat. There was little time to hold parley on the subject. In another moment the boat was alongside, and a voice in Dutch shouted, "Yield! inform us whither you are bound."

"Treachery! treachery!" cried the baron. "They are Spaniards; we may yet escape them."

But Jaqueline recognised the voice. "Karl," she exclaimed, "save me, save me!" and she sprang towards the boat.

Van Arenberg would have prevented her reaching it, but his sword whirled from his hand, the next instant he was driven overboard by a thrust from a pike through his breast. A despairing cry was heard, and before the people could clutch his clothes he was swept away by the current. In a few words Jaqueline told of the outrage to which she had been subjected. Captain Van der Elst accounted for the circumstance of his having so providentially rescued her by saying that he had been sent to reconnoitre the enemy's position, and supposing that the boat was manned by Spaniards he had given chase. She entreated that he would proceed in his duty.

"No harm can come to me while I am by your side," she said, scarcely thinking of the interpretation which might be put upon the words she uttered. He pressed her hand. Having ordered the villagers' boat to follow at a distance, warning them of the punishment they would receive should they attempt to escape, he continued on till he had performed the duty on which he had been despatched. Morning was approaching when he returned to the fleet, which had just broken through the second great dyke and destroyed the villages of Zoetermeer and Benthuyzen, and now borne on by the rising waters was advancing towards Leyden. Karl conveyed Jaqueline on board the admiral's ship, manned by a savage-looking crew, the wild Beggars of the Sea. Ferocious, however, as they were to their foes, to her they were civil and courteous. Eight hundred of them, mostly Zealanders, manned the fleet. The greater number were scarred, hacked, and even maimed in the unceasing conflicts in which their lives had been passed, while they were renowned far and wide as much for their nautical skill as their ferocity. Their appearance was both eccentric and terrific; they wore crescents in their caps with the inscription, "Rather Turkish than Popish." They were known never to give nor take quarter; they went to mortal combat only. They had sworn to spare neither noble nor simple, neither King, Kaiser, nor Pope, should they fall into their power. Each ship carried ten guns, and was propelled, the smaller by ten, the larger by eighteen oars, the whole fleet having on board 2,500 veterans, experienced both on land and water. Jaqueline was conducted to the admiral's cabin; it boasted neither of magnificence nor elegance; indeed, very little of comfort, for the vessels had been fitted out for rough work, and no ladies had been expected on board. The stout old admiral welcomed his guest.

"You may rest here in security, my pretty maiden," he said; "and I trust ere many days are over to restore you to the arms of your brave father."

Not long afterwards the order was issued for the fleet once more to advance, and Jaqueline's heart beat high with hope, for the second dyke was attacked. The Spaniards, scarcely stopping to encounter the enemy, flung away their arms as they saw the dreaded sea rovers approaching. The barrier was quickly broken, and again the fleet pushed forward over the submerged country till it reached North Aa. Scarcely, however, had the ships arrived there than once more the easterly wind began to blow, driving the waters away from the city. Lower and lower they sank, until the ships grounded, and further progress became impossible. The delay sorely tried the patience of the eager crews, and many leaping into the water, attempted to lift their ships over the shallows, but their strength was unequal to the task. There they lay stranded, with scarcely nine inches of water round them. Jaqueline's anguish of mind was increased from knowing too well the consequences of the delay to the starving inhabitants of the beleaguered city. Though confident of the resolution of her father and the commandant, she was aware of the direful effect which starvation had already produced among the inhabitants. Would they continue to hold out? Ten thousand Spaniards still surrounded the walls, and at any moment might break in, and massacre and rapine would sweep over her native city. Night and day she prayed that the dreaded catastrophe might be averted, yet day after day passed, and the fleet lay in sight of the walls, but too far distant for their cannon to reach the enemy. Even Admiral Boisot was in despair. He despatched a letter to the Prince, stating his belief that if the spring tides, soon to be expected, should not, together with the strong south-westerly wind, come immediately to their relief, he should be compelled to abandon the expedition. Not many hours after the letter had been despatched a large boat was seen rowing swiftly towards the fleet from the southward. She soon came alongside the admiral's ship. A cry, "It is the Prince! our noble Prince," burst from the throats of the sea rovers as they welcomed him on board, though they observed with sorrow that his commanding figure was fearfully emaciated, his noble face pale as death. He had, indeed, only just risen from a bed of sickness, and few knew how near to death's door he had been, his disease aggravated by a report which had reached him that Leyden had fallen, yet all the time he had been directing the plans for bringing the fleet across the land. His countenance assumed a cheerful aspect as he spoke to the almost despairing admiral and his officers.

"I know the people of Leyden," he said, "they will hold out till you can reach them. Ere long the sea will rise. Already the water is deeper than when I came on board."

The Prince was right, he had observed clouds gathering in the south-western horizon, and ere long a strong wind from that quarter began to blow, the tide flowed in, the water swept over the dykes, cheers rose from the throats of the seamen. Once more their ships were afloat, sails were spread, the oars run out, and now they went gliding on led by the "Ark of Delft," until Zoetermeer was reached. Here a desperate effort was made by the Spaniards to stop their progress, but that village and others in the neighbourhood were attacked, the enemy driven out, and they were set on fire. The blaze lighted up the midnight sky, announcing to the fainting garrison that relief was approaching. Barrier after barrier was passed, and for many an hour in the midst of the howling storm and pitchy darkness a fierce battle raged. The victorious Hollanders pushed further on, but still two forts of great strength, those of Zoeterwoude and Lammen, lay between them and the city, garrisoned by the enemy's best troops and armed with heavy artillery. They must be captured before the city could be gained. Stout as were the rovers' hearts, their vessels, though large, were slightly built, and, except the "Ark of Delft," were incapable of standing the heavy shot which would be hurled against them. The Spanish vessels, hitherto kept in reserve, advanced to the fight, but were quickly sunk, their crews miserably perishing, and ere a shot was fired against Zoeterwoude the Spaniards were seen in full flight along the top of the dyke leading towards the Hague. The rovers followed, leaping from their vessels and slaying all whom they could overtake, many of the fugitives perishing in the fast advancing waves as the dykes crumbled beneath their feet. But yet another fort, that of Lammen, the strongest of all, remained, held by the main body of the enemy. The fleet approached, but the admiral dared not expose his ships to the storms of shot hurled towards them, and therefore waited for the return of night, resolving either to make a desperate assault—though he almost despaired of success—or, should the waters rise, to carry his ships round by a circuitous way to the opposite side; but this as yet the depth of water would not allow.

That day was one of the deepest anxiety, although the rain and wind which came from the south-west were undoubtedly causing the waters to rise. As evening drew on the storm increased, the night became darker and darker. Loud crashes were heard, lights were seen flitting across the black face of the waters proceeding from the direction of the fort, but no one could account for the cause of these sounds and appearances. At length a fearful report ran through the fleet that the enemy had burst into the city, and thus that all the efforts they had made were in vain. Still the strange lights appeared and vanished in the darkness; what they portended no one could say. At dawn the admiral issued the order to assault the fortress; the eager crews sprang into their boats fully expecting a desperate encounter, but no shot saluted them, all was silent within. Had the Spaniards really then, at the last moment, captured the city? The fleet pushed on, though it was believed that some fearful treachery was intended and that they might suddenly be attacked by an overwhelming force.

As soon as the ships got near enough, Captain Van der Elst, who had undertaken to lead the assault, plunging into the waters waded towards the fort. As he was striding on a voice from the summit hailed him and he saw young Albert Van der Does who, having crossed from the city and climbed to the top of the embankment, was waving his cap and loudly cheering. Karl soon joined him, and they were in time to see the rearguard of the Spaniards escaping towards the Hague. Albert's shouts quickly attracted the attention of the inhabitants of Leyden and gave them the first intimation that the enemy had fled. In a few minutes, led by Albert, Karl was in the presence of the burgomaster, and had assured him both of the success of their enterprise and of his daughter's safety.

"God be praised, for He has fought for us," exclaimed the burgomaster. "Had not the Spaniards fled when they did, what earthly powers could have prevented them from entering our city?" And he pointed to a large portion of the wall which had fallen during the night and left a breach through which the foe might have poured into the streets. The fleet now sailed up through the canals, the famishing people who lined the quays stretching out their hands to receive the food bestowed on them by the rough Sea Beggars, many of whom dashed aside their tears as they beheld the emaciated forms of the citizens, the corpse-like look of the women and children, and heard their plaintive cries for food. The first act of the brave admiral and his crew was to repair to the great church, accompanied by the commandant, the chief magistrate, and other citizens, to return thanks for their success, then a hymn arose which was abruptly terminated by the sounds of weeping though the tears were those of joy and gratitude. Among the first to land, escorted by the brave Captain Van der Elst, who had returned on board for the purpose of conducting her to the shore, was the Lily of Leyden; he had the happiness of restoring her to her father's arms. The burgomaster, who had hitherto sternly refused to yield to the foe, melted into tears as he embraced his daughter, then turning to Captain Van der Elst, he said—

"You have proved yourself worthy of the fairest in the land; I can no longer refuse to bestow my daughter's hand on one who will, I am sure, in these times of danger protect her with his life."

Thus was Leyden saved after enduring a siege of five months, having experienced sufferings never surpassed by any recorded on the page of history. The Prince was the first to acknowledge the deep debt of gratitude Holland owed to the heroic fortitude of the noble burgomaster and his fellow-citizens. The people of Holland and Zealand, to show how much they were indebted to the citizens, established that university which, thus founded at the darkest period of their country's struggle, was in after times to become so celebrated. Imposing as were the ceremonies which took place on its establishment, the following winter they were, in the opinion of many, surpassed by the magnificence of the entertainment given on the occasion of the marriage of Captain Van der Elst and the fair Lily of Leyden.

THE END.