row crimson, for much blood
will flow into them and they will mirror an unequalled conflagration.
Woe betide the men, tenfold woe betide the women, against whom the
conqueror's fury will then be directed. And you, you--the wife of the
man who has induced thousands to desert King Philip, the wife of the
exile, who directs the resistance within these walls."

At the last words Maria had opened her large eyes wider and wider, and
now interrupted her husband with the question: "Do you wish to try how
high my courage will rise?"

"No, Maria. I know you will hold out loyally and would look death in the
face as fearlessly as your sister did in Haarlem; but I, I cannot endure
the thought of seeing you fall into the hands of our butchers. Fear for
you, terrible fear, will destroy my vigorous strength in the decisive
hours, so the words must be uttered--"

Maria had hitherto listened to her husband quietly; she knew what he
desired. Now she advanced nearer and interrupted him by exclaiming
firmly, nay imperiously:

"No more, no more, do you hear! I will not endure another word!"

"Maria!"

"Silence it is my turn now. To escape fear, you will thrust your wife
from the house; fear, you say, would undermine your strength. But will
longing strengthen it? If you love me, it will not fail to come--"

"If I love you, Maria!"

"Well, well! But you have forgotten to consider how I shall feel in
exile, if I also love you. I am your wife. We vowed at the altar, that
nothing save death should part us. Have you forgotten it? Have your
children become mine? Have I taught them, rejoiced to call myself their
mother? Yes, or no?"

"Yes, Maria, yes, yes, a hundred times yes!"

"And you have the heart to throw me into the arms of this wasting
longing! You wish to prevent me from keeping the most sacred of vows?
You can bring yourself to tear me from the children? You think me too
shallow and feeble, to endure suffering and death for the sacred cause,
which is mine as well as yours! You are fond of calling me your child,
but I can be strong, and whatever may come, will not weep. You are the
husband and have the right to command, I am only the wife and shall
obey. Shall I go? Shall I stay? I await your answer."

She had uttered the last words in a trembling voice, but the burgomaster
exclaimed with deep emotion:

"Stay, stay, Maria! Come, come, and forgive me!" Peter seized her hand,
exclaiming again:

"Come, come!"

But the young