than running, his face hideously distorted with satanic glee: this man was the surgeon Tyckelaer.
“We have it! we have it!” he cried, brandishing a paper in the air.
“They have got the order!” muttered the officer in amazement.
“Well, then,” his Highness quietly remarked, “now I know what to believe with regard to Mynheer Bowelt’s honesty and courage: he has neither the one nor the other.”
Then, looking with a steady glance after the crowd which was rushing along before him, he continued:—
“Let us now go to the Buytenhof, Captain; I expect we shall see a very strange sight there.”
The officer bowed, and, without making any reply, followed in the steps of his master.
There was an immense crowd in the square and about the neighbourhood of the prison. But the dragoons of Tilly still kept it in check with the same success and with the same firmness.
It was not long before the Count heard the increasing din of the approaching multitude, the first ranks of which rushed on with the rapidity of a cataract.
At the same time he observed the paper, which was waving above the surface of clenched fists and glittering arms.
“Halloa!” he said, rising in his stirrups, and touching his lieutenant with the knob of his sword; “I really believe those rascals have got the order.”
“Dastardly ruffians they are,” cried the lieutenant.
It was indeed the order, which the burgher guard received with a roar of triumph. They immediately sallied forth, with lowered arms and fierce shouts, to meet Count Tilly’s dragoons.
