astened the bandages.

At the last touch, the jailer fainted a second time.

"Go and fetch vinegar, mademoiselle," said Cornelius; "we will bathe his
temples, and he will recover."

But, instead of acting up to the doctor's prescription, Rosa, after
having satisfied herself that her father was still unconscious,
approached Cornelius and said,--

"Service for service, sir."

"What do you mean, my pretty child?" said Cornelius.

"I mean to say, sir, that the judge who is to examine you to-morrow has
inquired to-day for the room in which you are confined, and, on being
told that you are occupying the cell of Mynheer Cornelius de Witt,
laughed in a very strange and very disagreeable manner, which makes me
fear that no good awaits you."

"But," asked Cornelius, "what harm can they do to me?"

"Look at that gibbet."

"But I am not guilty," said Cornelius.

"Were they guilty whom you see down there gibbeted, mangled, and torn to
pieces?"

"That's true," said Cornelius, gravely.

"And besides," continued Rosa, "the people want to find you guilty. But
whether innocent or guilty, your trial begins to-morrow, and the day
after you will be condemned. Matters are settled very quickly in these
times."

"Well, and what do you conclude from all this?"

"I conclude that I am alone, that I am weak, that my father is lying in
a swoon, that the dog is muzzled, and that consequently there is nothing
to prevent your making your escape. Fly, then; that's what I mean."

"What do you say?"

"I say that I was not able to save Mynheer Cornelius or Mynheer John
de Witt, and that I should like to save you. Only be quick; there, my
father is regaining his breath, one minute more, and he will open his
eyes, and it will be too late. Do you hesitate?"

In fact, Cornelius stood immovable, looking at Rosa, yet looking at her
as if he did not hear her.

"Don't you understand me?" said the young girl, with some impatience.

"Yes, I do," said Cornelius, "but----"

"But?"

"I will not, they would accuse you."

"Never mind," said Rosa, blushing, "never mind that."

"You are very good, my dear child," replied Cornelius, "but I stay."

"You stay, oh, sir! oh, sir! don't you understand that you will be
condemned to death, executed on the scaffold, perhaps assassinated
and torn to pieces, just like Mynheer John and Mynheer Cornelius. For
heaven's sake, don't think of me, but fly from this place, Take care, it
bears ill luck to the