The words were written by the royal hand which had already signed the death-warrant of the man to whom they were addressed.  Alva, who came provided with full powers to carry out the great scheme resolved upon, unrestrained by provincial laws or by the statutes of the Golden Fleece, had left Madrid to embark for Carthagena, at the very moment when Egmont was reading the royal letter.  “The Spanish honey,” to use once more old Landgrave Philip’s homely metaphor, had done its work, and the unfortunate victim was already entrapped.

Count Horn remained in gloomy silence in his lair at Weert, awaiting the hunters of men, already on their way.  It seemed inconceivable that he, too, who knew himself suspected and disliked, should have thus blinded himself to his position.  It will be seen, however, that the same perfidy was to be employed to ensnare him which proved so successful with Egmont.

As for the Prince himself, he did not move too soon.  Not long after his arrival in Germany, Vandenesse, the King’s private secretary, but Orange’s secret agent, wrote him word that he had read letters from the King to Alva in which the Duke was instructed to “arrest the Prince as soon as he could lay hands upon him, and not to let his trial last more than twenty-four hours.”

Brederode had remained at Viane, and afterwards at Amsterdam, since the ill-starred expedition of Tholouse, which he had organized, but at which he had not assisted.  He had given much annoyance to the magistracy of Amsterdam, and to all respectable persons, Calvinist or Catholic.  He made much mischief, but excited no hopes in the minds of reformers.  He was ever surrounded by a host of pot companions, swaggering nobles disguised as sailors, bankrupt tradesmen, fugitives and outlaws of every description, excellent people to drink the beggars’ health and to bawl the beggars’ songs, but quite unfit for any serious enterprise.  People of substance were wary of him, for they had no confidence in his capacity, and were afraid of his frequent demands for contributions to the patriotic cause.  He spent his time in the pleasure gardens, shooting at the mark with arquebuss or crossbow, drinking with his comrades, and shrieking “Vivent les gueux.”

The Regent, determined to dislodge him, had sent Secretary La Torre to him in March, with instructions that if Brederode refused to leave Amsterdam, the magistracy were to call for assistance upon Count Meghem, who had a regiment at Utrecht.  This clause made it impossible for La Torre to exhibit his instructions to Brederode.  Upon his refusal, that personage, although he knew the secretary as well as he knew his own father, coolly informed him that he knew nothing about him; that he did not consider him as respectable a person as he pretended to be; that he did not believe a word of his having any commission from the Duchess, and that he should therefore take no notice whatever of his demands.  La Torre answered meekly, that