reproach
him for his stern determination in holding out.

"We shall all soon be like him who lies there," cried many voices.

"It were better to have yielded than have been compelled to endure such
suffering," shouted others.

Unheeding them, the burgomaster proceeded to a triangular space in the
centre of the town, into which many of the principal streets opened, and
in which stood the church of Saint Pancras, two ancient lime trees
growing on either side of the entrance now stripped bare of leaves by
the famishing people. Ascending the steps, Adrian Van der Werf stopped
while he regarded the numberless angry faces turned towards him. For a
moment he stood there, his figure tall and imposing, his visage dark and
haggard, his eye yet tranquil and commanding, and then waving his
broad-brimmed hat for silence, he exclaimed, "What would you, my
friends? Why do you murmur that we do not break our vows and surrender
our city to the Spaniards, a fate more horrible than the agony which she
now endures? I tell you I have made a vow to hold the city, and may God
give me strength to keep it. I can die but once, whether by your hands,
by the enemy's, or by the hand of God. My own fate is indifferent to
me, not so that of the city entrusted to our care. I know that we shall
soon starve, but starvation is preferable to the dishonoured death which
is the only alternative. Your menaces move me not. My life is at your
disposal. Here is my sword, plunge it into my breast and divide my
flesh among you, take my body to appease your hunger, but expect no
surrender as long as I remain alive."

The words of the brave burgomaster inspired a new courage in the hearts
of those who heard him. Shouts of applause and defiance rose from the
famishing, but enthusiastic crowd, they hurried to the ramparts to hurl
renewed defiance at the enemy.

"Ye call us rat-eaters and dog-eaters," they cried; "so long as ye hear
a dog bark or a cat mew within the walls ye may know that the city holds
out; when the last hour has come, we will with our own hands set fire to
the houses and perish in the flames rather than suffer our homes to be
polluted and our liberties to be crushed."

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Truly it has been said that Leyden was sublime in its despair. Day
after day went by and yet no relief came, but the wind, which had long
blown steadily from the cast, suddenly changed to the westward. At
length Albert and Berthold, who had r