lamation. Day was breaking as the trusty captain made his
way to the scene of action. The wan light of a cold, drizzly January
morning showed him the wide, stately square--with its leafless lime-trees
and its tall many storied, gable-ended houses rising dim and spectral
through the mist-filled to overflowing with troops, whose uniforms and
banners resembled nothing that he remembered in Dutch and English
regiments. Fires were lighted at various corners, kettles were boiling,
and camp-followers and sutlers were crouching over them, half perished
with cold--for it had been raining dismally all night--while burghers,
with wives and children, startled from their dreams by the sudden
reveillee, stood gaping about, with perplexed faces and despairing
gestures. As he approached the town-house--one of those magnificent,
many-towered, highly-decorated, municipal palaces of the Netherlands--he
found troops all around it; troops guarding the main entrance, troops on
the great external staircase leading to the front balcony, and officers,
in yellow jerkin and black bandoleer, grouped in the balcony itself.

The Flemish captain stood bewildered, when suddenly the familiar form of
Stanley detached itself from the central group and advanced towards him.
Taking him by the hand with much urbanity, Sir William led the
militia-man through two or three ranks of soldiers, and presented him to
the strange officer on horseback.

"Colonel Tassis," said he, "I recommend to you a very particular friend
of mine. Let me bespeak your best offices in his behalf."

"Ah God!" cried the honest burgher, "Tassis! Tassis! Then are we indeed
most miserably betrayed."

Even the Spanish colonel who was of Flemish origin, was affected by the
despair of the Netherlander.

"Let those look to the matter of treachery whom it concerns," said he;
"my business here is to serve the King, my master."

"Render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's, and unto God the
things which are God's," said Stanley, with piety.

The burgher-captain was then assured that no harm was intended to the
city, but that it now belonged to his most Catholic Majesty of
Spain--Colonel Stanley, to whom its custody had been entrusted, having
freely and deliberately restored it to its lawful owner. He was then bid
to go and fetch the burgomasters and magistrates.

Presently they appeared--a dismal group, weeping and woe-begone--the same
board of strict Calvinists forcibly placed in o