e reality of that stern time was battle and
carnage. But I knew that these grey figures, their bare feet all wet
with blood, and their faces hidden by their veils, were the Poor
Clares--sent forth now because dire agony was abroad and imminent
danger at hand. Therefore, they left their cloistered shelter, and came
into that thick and evil melee.

Close to me--driven past me by the struggle of many fighters--came the
Antwerp burgess with the scarce-healed scar upon his face; and in an
instant more, he was thrown by the press upon the Austrian officer
Gisborne, and ere either had recovered the shock, the burgess had
recognised his opponent.

'Ha! the Englishman Gisborne!' he cried, and threw himself upon him
with redoubled fury. He had struck him hard--the Englishman was down;
when out of the smoke came a dark-grey figure, and threw herself right
under the uplifted flashing sword. The burgess's arm stood arrested.
Neither Austrians nor Anversois willingly harmed the Poor Clares.

'Leave him to me!' said a low stern voice. 'He is mine enemy--mine for
many years.'

Those words were the last I heard. I myself was struck down by a
bullet. I remember nothing more for days. When I came to myself, I was
at the extremity of weakness, and was craving for food to recruit my
strength. My landlord sat watching me. He, too, looked pinched and
shrunken; he had heard of my wounded state, and sought me out. Yes! the
struggle still continued, but the famine was sore; and some, he had
heard, had died for lack of food. The tears stood in his eyes as he
spoke. But soon he shook off his weakness, and his natural cheerfulness
returned. Father Bernard had been to see me--no one else. (Who should,
indeed?) Father Bernard would come back that afternoon--he had
promised. But Father Bernard never came, although I was up and dressed,
and looking eagerly for him.

My landlord brought me a meal which he had cooked himself: of what it
was composed he would not say, but it was most excellent, and with
every mouthful I seemed to gain strength. The good man sat looking at
my evident enjoyment with a happy smile of sympathy; but, as my
appetite became satisfied, I began to detect a certain wistfulness in
his eyes, as if craving for the food I had so nearly devoured--for,
indeed, at that time I was hardly aware of the extent of the famine.
Suddenly, there was a sound of many rushing feet past our window. My
landlord opened one of the sides of it, the