eur of Treslong, a noble whose brother had been
executed by the Duke of Alva, and who had himself fought by the side of
Count Louis at Yemmingen, where he was desperately wounded.

Kopplestock was an old acquaintance of his, and was immediately
recognised. Treslong welcomed him warmly; he was the very man he wished
to meet. Peter, nothing loth, communicated at once the events going
forward in the city, and urged an immediate attack. Here was a means,
he hoped, of saving his friends.

"Depend upon it we are not anxious to delay, for the honest truth is, we
have scarcely a piece of biscuit or a lump of cheese remaining on board
any of the ships in the fleet. Our fellows are literally starving, and
land we must, somewhere or other, and forage for food. However, come,
my friend, we will go on board the admiral's ship, and hear what he says
to the proposal of an immediate attack."

Treslong, getting into Peter's boat, proceeded forthwith to the ship of
Admiral De la Marck. The first person Peter caught sight of on board
was Diedrich Megheni. Even Peter thought he had never seen a wilder set
of ruffians than the crew of the flag-ship, but they were all far
surpassed by the admiral himself. His hair was long and shaggy, his
beard hung down over his chest, joined by his whiskers, pendant from his
cheeks, while his huge moustache projected out far on either side. He
was in no ways loth to attack the place. "My jolly Beggars will soon
make themselves masters of the town," he observed; "but as you wish it,
Treslong, we will see what diplomacy will do first. Who will take a
message to the magistrates of the city?"

"Our worthy friend Peter Kopplestock will do so," observed Treslong.
"Here, take my ring; it will accredit you as our envoy. If the town
will surrender, we promise to treat all the inhabitants with
consideration and tenderness; if not, they must take the consequences."

Peter, receiving further directions, jumped into his boat, and hurried
back towards the town.

The hour for the execution of the condemned heretics was approaching.
If he could work upon the fears of the Inquisitor, they might yet be
saved.

While Peter is rowing with all his might up towards Brill, the sudden
appearance of the ships of the Sea-beggars must be accounted for. The
fleet of De la Marck had been lying for some time in different ports in
the south of England, sallying forth occasionally and making prizes of
Spanish ships.