ly endure to the end; and you did
so with me. I will not break my oath, but I can die. If my life will
serve you, here I am! I have no bread, but here, here is my body. Take
it, lay hands on me, tear me to pieces. Here I stand, here I stand. I
will keep my oath."

The carpenter bent his head, and said in a hollow tone: "Come, people,
let God's will be done; we have sworn."

The burgomaster quietly entered his friend's house. Fran Van Hout had
seen and heard all this, and on the very same day told the story to
Maria, her eyes sparkling brightly as she exclaimed: "Never did I see any
man so noble as he was in that hour! It is well for us, that he rules
within these walls. Never will our children and children's children
forget this deed."

They have treasured it in their memories, and during the night succeeding
the day on which the burgomaster acted so manly a part, a letter arrived
from the Prince, full of joyous and encouraging news. The noble man had
recovered, and was striving with all his power to rescue brave Leyden.
The Beggars had cut the Landscheiding, their vessels were pressing
onward--help was approaching, and the faithful citizen who brought the
letter, had seen with his own eyes the fleet bringing relief and the
champions of freedom, glowing with martial ardor. The two Van der Does,
by the same letter, were appointed the Prince's commissioners in place of
the late Herr Van Bronkhorst. Van der Werff no longer stood alone, and
when the next morning "Father William's" letter was read aloud and the
messenger's news spread abroad, the courage and confidence of the
tortured citizens rose like withering grass after a refreshing rain.

But they were still condemned to long weeks of anxiety and suffering.

During the last days of September they were forced to slaughter the cows
hitherto spared for the infants and young mothers, and then, then?

Help was close at hand, for the sky often reddened, and the air was
shaken by the roar of distant cannon; but the east wind continued to
prevail, driving back the water let in upon the land, and the vessels
needed a rising flood to approach the city.

Not one of all the messengers, who had been sent out, returned; there was
nothing certain, save the cruelly increasing unendurable suffering. Even
Barbara had succumbed, and complained of weakness and loathing of the
ordinary food.

Maria thought of the roast-pigeon, which had agreed with Bessie so well,
and went to the