So soon as Adrian had left her Lysbeth rose, robed herself, and took her way to the house of her cousin, van de Werff, now a successful citizen of middle age and the burgomaster-elect of Leyden.

“You have heard the news?” she said.

“Alas! cousin, I have,” he answered, “and it is very terrible.  Is it true that this treasure of Hendrik Brant’s is at the bottom of it all?”

She nodded, and answered, “I believe so.”

“Then could they not bargain for their lives by surrendering its secret?”

“Perhaps.  That is, Foy and Martin might—­Dirk does not know its whereabouts—­he refused to know, but they have sworn that they will die first.”

“Why, cousin?”

“Because they promised as much to Hendrik Brant, who believed that if his gold could be kept from the Spaniards it would do some mighty service to his country in time to come, and who has persuaded them all that is so.”

“Then God grant it may be true,” said van de Werff with a sigh, “for otherwise it is sad to think that more lives should be sacrificed for the sake of a heap of pelf.”

“I know it, cousin, but I come to you to save those lives.”

“How?”

“How?” she answered fiercely.  “Why, by raising the town; by attacking the Gevangenhuis and rescuing them, by driving the Spaniards out of Leyden——­”

“And thereby bringing upon ourselves the fate of Mons. Would you see this place also given over to sack by the soldiers of Noircarmes and Don Frederic?”

“I care not what I see so long as I save my son and my husband,” she answered desperately.

“There speaks the woman, not the patriot.  It is better that three men should die than a whole city full.”

“That is a strange argument to find in your mouth, cousin, the argument of Caiaphas the Jew.”

“Nay, Lysbeth, be not wroth with me, for what can I say?  The Spanish troops in Leyden are not many, it is true, but more have been sent for from Haarlem and elsewhere after the troubles of yesterday arising out of the capture of Foy and Martin, and in forty-eight hours at the longest they will be here.  This town is not provisioned for a siege, its citizens are not trained to arms, and we have little powder stored.  Moreover, the city council is divided.  For the killing of the Spanish soldiers we may compound, but if we attack the Gevangenhuis, that is open rebellion, and we shall bring the army of Don Frederic down upon us.”

“What matter, cousin?  It will come sooner or later.”

“Then let it come later, when we are more prepared to beat it off.  Oh! do not reproach me, for I can bear it ill, I who am working day and night to make ready for the hour of trial.  I love your husband and your son, my heart bleeds for your sorrow and their doom, but at present I can do nothing, nothing.  You must bear your burden, they must bear theirs, I must bear mine; we must all wander through the night not knowing where we wander till God causes the dawn to break, the dawn of freedom and retribution.”