It may be asked what part had his mother in him; where in his weak ignoble nature was the trace of her pure and noble character?  It seems hard to find.  Was this want to be accounted for by the circumstances connected with his birth, in which she had been so unwilling an agent?  Had she given him something of her body but naught of that which was within her own control—­her spirit?  Who can say?  This at least is true, that from his mother’s stock he had derived nothing beyond a certain Dutch doggedness of purpose which, when added to his other qualities, might in some events make him formidable—­a thing to fear and flee from.

Adrian reached the Witte Poort, and paused on this side of the moat to reflect about things in general.  Like most young men of his time and blood, as has been said, he had military leanings, and was convinced that, given the opportunity, he might become one of the foremost generals of his age.  Now he was engaged in imagining himself besieging Leyden at the head of a great army, and in fancy disposing his forces after such fashion as would bring about its fall in the shortest possible time.  Little did he guess that within some few years this very question was to exercise the brain of Valdez and other great Spanish captains.

Whilst he was thus occupied suddenly a rude voice called,

“Wake up, Spaniard,” and a hard object—­it was a green apple—­struck him on his flat cap nearly knocking out the feather.  Adrian leaped round with an oath, to catch sight of two lads, louts of about fifteen, projecting their tongues and jeering at him from behind the angles of the gate-house.  Now Adrian was not popular with the youth of Leyden, and he knew it well.  So, thinking it wisest to take no notice of this affront, he was about to continue on his way when one of the youths, made bold by impunity, stepped from his corner and bowed before him till the ragged cap in his hand touched the dust, saying, in a mocking voice,

“Hans, why do you disturb the noble hidalgo?  Cannot you see that the noble hidalgo is going for a walk in the country to look for his most high father, the honourable duke of the Golden Fleece, to whom he is taking a cockolly bird as a present?”

Adrian heard and winced at the sting of the insult, as a high-bred horse winces beneath the lash.  Of a sudden rage boiled in his veins like a fountain of fire, and drawing the dagger from his girdle, he rushed at the boys, dragging the hooded hawk, which had become dislodged from his wrist, fluttering through the air after him.  At that moment, indeed, he would have been capable of killing one or both of them if he could have caught them, but, fortunately for himself and them, being prepared for an onslaught, they vanished this way and that up the narrow lanes.  Presently he stopped, and, still shaking with wrath, replaced the hawk on his wrist and walked across the bridge.

“They shall pay for it,” he muttered.  “Oh!  I will not forget, I will not forget.”