In truth, there seemed danger of such a catastrophe.  The secret correspondence of Don John with the colonels was already discovered, and it was seen how warmly he had impressed upon the men with whom he had been tampering, “that the die was cast,” and that all their art was necessary to make it turn up successfully.  The castle was carried, but what would become of the city?  A brief and eager consultation terminated in an immediate offer of three hundred thousand crowns by the leading merchants.  This money was to be employed in amicably satisfying, if possible, the German soldiers, who had meanwhile actually come to arms, and were assembled in the Place de Meer.  Feeling unsafe; however, in this locality, their colonels had led them into the new town.  Here, having barricaded themselves with gun-carriages, bales, and boxes, they awaited, instead of initiating, the events which the day might bring forth.  A deputation soon arrived with a white flag from the castle, and commissioners were appointed by the commanding officers of the soldiery.  The offer was made to pay over the arrears of their wages, at least to a very large amount, on condition that the troops should forthwith and for ever evacuate the city.  One hundred and fifty thousand crowns were offered on the nail.  The merchants stood on the bridge leading from the old town-to the new, in full sight of the soldiers.  They held in their hands their purses, filled with the glittering gold.  The soldiers were frantic with the opportunity, and swore that they would have their officers’ lives, if the tempting and unexpected offer should be declined.  Nevertheless, the commissioners went to and fro, ever finding something to alter or arrange.  In truth, the merchants had agreed to furnish; if necessary, three hundred thousand Browns; but the thrifty negotiators were disposed, if diplomacy could do it, to save the moiety of that sum.  Day began to sink, ere the bargain was completed, when suddenly sails were descried in the distance, and presently a large fleet of war vessels, with, banner and pennon flying before a favoring breeze; came sailing up the Scheld.  It was a squadron of the Prince’s ships, under command of Admiral Haultain.  He had been sent against Tholen, but, having received secret intelligence, had, with happy audacity, seized the opportunity of striking a blow in the cause which he had served so faithfully.  A shot or two fired from the vessels among the barricades had a quickening effect.  A sudden and astounding panic seized the soldiers.  “The Beggars are coming! the Beggars are coming!” they yelled in dismay; for the deeds of the ocean-beggars had not become less appalling since the memorable siege of Leyden.  The merchants still stood on the bridge with their purses in their hand.  The envoys from the castle still waved their white flags.  It was too late.  The horror inspired by the wild Zealanders overpowered the hope of wages, extinguished all confidence in the friendship of the citizens.  The mercenaries,