Nine o’clock in the evening sounded, and the uncertainty became real anxiety, some scouts having protested that they had seen a movement in the French camp.  A little flat boat had been sent on the Scheldt to reconnoiter, for the Antwerpians were less unquiet as to what would occur by land than by sea; but the bark had not returned.  William became more and more impatient, when the door of the hall opened, and a valet appeared and announced “Monseigneur.”  As he spoke, a man, tall and imperious-looking, wearing with supreme grace the cloak which entirely enveloped him, entered the hall, and saluted courteously those who were there.  But at the first glance, his eye, proud and piercing, sought out the prince in the midst of his officers.

He went straight up to him and offered him his hand, which the prince pressed with affection, and almost with respect.

They called each other “Monseigneur.”  After this the unknown took off his cloak.  He was dressed in a buff doublet, and had high leather boots; he was armed with a long sword, which seemed to make part of himself, so easily it hung, and with a little dagger, which was passed through his belt.  His boots were covered with mud and dust, and his spurs were red with the blood of his horse.  He took his place at the table.

“Well, where are we?” asked he.

“Monseigneur,” replied William, “you must have seen, in coming here, that the streets were barricaded.”

“I saw that.”

“And the houses loopholed?”

“I did not see that; but it is a good plan.”

“And the sentries doubled?”

“Does not monseigneur approve of these preparations for defense?” said a voice, in a tone of anxious disappointment.

“Yes; but, however, I do not believe that in our circumstances it will be useful; it fatigues the soldier and disquiets the bourgeois.  You have a plan of attack and defense, I suppose?”

“We waited to communicate them to monseigneur,” said the burgomaster.

“Speak then.”

“Monseigneur arrived rather late, and I was obliged to act meanwhile,” said William.

“And you did right, monseigneur; besides, whatever you do, you do well.  But I have not lost my time on the road, either.”

“We know by our spies,” said the burgomaster, “that a movement is preparing in the French camp; they are making ready for an attack, but as we do not know on which side it will come, we have disposed the guns so that they may be equally distributed over the whole rampart.”

“That is wise,” replied the unknown, with a slight smile to William, who held his tongue, and let the bourgeois speak of war.

“We have done the same with our civic guards; they are spread over the whole wall, and have orders to run at once to the point of attack.  However, it is the opinion of the greater number of our members that it is impossible that the French meditate anything but a feigned attack.”