a forlorn hope, or murder a prisoner in cold blood, or
leap into the blazing crater of what seemed a marine volcano, the Marquis
of Richebourg had ever made himself most actively and unscrupulously
useful to his master. Especially had he rendered invaluable services in
the reduction, of the Walloon Provinces, and in the bridging of the
Scheldt, the two crowning triumphs of Alexander's life. He had now passed
from the scene where he had played so energetic and dazzling a part, and
lay doubled round an iron cable beneath the current of the restless
river.

And in this eventful night, Parma, as always, had been true to himself
and to his sovereign. "We expected," said he, "that the rebels would
instantly attack us on all sides after the explosion. But all remained so
astonished by the unheard-of accident, that very few understood what was
going on. It seemed better that I--notwithstanding the risk of letting
myself be seen--should encourage the people not to run away. I did so,
and remedied matters a little but not so much as that--if the enemy had
then attacked us--we should not have been in the very greatest risk and
peril. I did not fail to do what I am obliged to do, and always hope to
do; but I say no more of what passed, or what was done by myself, because
it does not become me to speak of these things."

Notwithstanding this discomfiture, the patriots kept up heart, and were
incessantly making demonstrations against Parma's works. Their
proceedings against the bridge, although energetic enough to keep the
Spanish commander in a state of perpetual anxiety, were never so
efficient however as on the memorable occasion when the Mantuan engineer
and the Dutch watchmaker had exhausted all their ingenuity. Nevertheless,
the rebel barks swarmed all over the submerged territory, now threatening
this post, and now that, and effecting their retreat at pleasure; for
nearly the whole of Parma's little armada was stationed at the two
extremities of his bridge. Many fire-ships were sent down from time to
time, but Alexander had organized a systematic patrol of a few
sentry-boats, armed with scythes and hooks, which rowed up and down in
front of the rafts, and protected them against invasion.

Some little effect was occasionally produced, but there was on the whole
more anxiety excited than damage actually inflicted. The perturbation of
spirit among the Spaniards when any of these 'demon fine-ships,' as they
called them, appeare