“Never mind faith,” said the third.  We are Calvinists, but I take no pleasure in throwing my pennies into Orange’s maw, nor can it gratify me to again tear up the poles before the Cow-gate, ere the wind dries the yarn.”

“Only let us hold together,” advised the older man.  “People don’t express their real opinions, and any poor ragged devil might play the hero.  But I tell you there will be sensible men enough in every ward, every guild, nay, even in the council, and among the burgomasters.”

“Hush,” whispered the second citizen, “there comes Van der Werff with the city clerk and young Van der Does; they are the worst of all.”

The three persons named came down the broad street, talking eagerly together, but in low tones.

“My uncle is right, Meister Peter,” said Jan Van der Does, the same tall young noble, who, on the morning of that day, had sent Nicolas Van Wibisma home with a kindly warning.  “It’s no use, you must seek the Prince and consult with him.”

“I suppose I must,” replied the burgomaster.  “I’ll go to-morrow morning.”

“Not to-morrow,” replied Van Hout.  “The Prince rides fast, and if you don’t find him in Delft—­”

“Do you go first,” urged the burgomaster, “you have the record of our session.”

“I cannot; but to-day you, the Prince’s friend, for the first time lack good-will.”

“You are right, Jan,” exclaimed the burgomaster, “and you shall know what holds me back.”

“If it is anything a friend can do for you, here he stands,” said von Nordwyk.

Van der Werff grasped the hand the young nobleman extended, and answered, smiling:  “No, my lord, no.  You know my young wife.  To-day we should have celebrated the first anniversary of our marriage, and amid all these anxieties I disgracefully forgot it.”

“Hard, hard,” said Van Hout, softly.  Then he drew himself up to his full height, and added resolutely:  “And yet, were I in your place, I would go, in spite of her.”

“Would you go to-day?”

“To-day, for to-morrow it may be too late.  Who knows how soon egress from the city may be stopped and, before again venturing the utmost, we must know the Prince’s opinion.  You possess more of his confidence than any of us.”

“And God knows how gladly I would bring him a cheering word in these sorrowful hours; but it must not be to-day.  The messenger has ridden off on my bay.”

“Then take my chestnut, he is faster too,” said Janus Dousa and Van der Werff answered hastily.

“Thanks, my lord.  I’ll send for him early tomorrow morning.”

The blood mounted to Van Hout’s head and, thrusting his hand angrily between his girdle and doublet, he exclaimed:  “Send me the chestnut, if the burgomaster will give me leave of absence.”

“No, send him to me,” replied Peter calmly.  “What must be, must be; I’ll go to-day.”

Van Hout’s manly features quickly smoothed and, clasping the burgomaster’s right hand in both his, he said joyously: