Thus admonished, the servant departed and the boatman was left to himself.  His companion had gone on shore with secret orders to make the best of his way to Prince Maurice, to inform him of the arrival of the ship within the fortress, and of the important fact which they had just learned, that Governor Lanzavecchia, who had heard rumours of some projected enterprise and who suspected that the object aimed at was Gertruydenberg, had suddenly taken his departure for that city, leaving as his lieutenant his nephew Paolo, a raw lad quite incompetent to provide for the safety of Breda.

A little before midnight, Captain Heraugiere made a brief address to his comrades in the vessel, telling them that the hour for carrying out their undertaking had at length arrived.  Retreat was impossible, defeat was certain death, only in complete victory lay their own safety and a great advantage for the commonwealth.  It was an honor to them to be selected for such an enterprise.  To show cowardice now would be an eternal shame for them, and he would be the man to strike dead with his own hand any traitor or poltroon.  But if, as he doubted not, every one was prepared to do his duty, their success was assured, and he was himself ready to take the lead in confronting every danger.

He then divided the little band into two companies, one under himself to attack the main guard-house, the other under Fervet to seize the arsenal of the fortress.

Noiselessly they stole out of the ship where they had so long been confined, and stood at last on the ground within the precincts of the castle.  Heraugiere marched straight to the guard-house.

“Who goes there?” cried a sentinel, hearing some movement in the darkness.

“A friend,” replied the captain, seizing him, by the throat, and commanding him, if he valued his life, to keep silence except when addressed and then to speak in a whisper.

“How many are there in the garrison?” muttered Heraugiere.

“Three hundred and fifty,” whispered the sentinel.

“How many?” eagerly demanded the nearest followers, not hearing the reply.

“He says there are but fifty of them,” said Heraugiere, prudently suppressing the three hundred, in order to encourage his comrades.

Quietly as they had made their approach, there was nevertheless a stir in the guard-house.  The captain of the watch sprang into the courtyard.

“Who goes there?” he demanded in his turn.

“A friend,” again replied Heraugiere, striking him dead with a single blow as he spoke.

Others emerged with torches.  Heraugiere was slightly wounded, but succeeded, after a brief struggle, in killing a second assailant.  His followers set upon the watch who retreated into the guard-house.  Heraugiere commanded his men to fire through the doors and windows, and in a few minutes every one of the enemy lay dead.

It was not a moment for making prisoners or speaking of quarter.  Meantime Fervet and his band had not been idle.  The magazine-house of the castle was seized, its defenders slain.  Young Lanzavecchia made a sally from the palace, was wounded and driven back together with a few of his adherents.