louder,” said John; “there is not a moment to be lost.”
“Come along, gentlemen,” said the girl, who now led the two brothers through an inner lobby to the back of the prison. Guided by her, they descended a staircase of about a dozen steps; traversed a small courtyard, which was surrounded by castellated walls; and, the arched door having been opened for them by Rosa, they emerged into a lonely street where their carriage was ready to receive them.
“Quick, quick, my masters! do you hear them?” cried the coachman, in a deadly fright.
Yet, after having made Cornelius get into the carriage first, the Grand Pensionary turned round towards the girl, to whom he said,—
“Good bye, my child! words could never express our gratitude. God will reward you for having saved the lives of two men.”
Rosa took the hand which John de Witte proffered to her, and kissed it with every show of respect.
“Go—for Heaven’s sake, go!” she said; “it seems they are going to force the gate.”
John de Witte hastily got in, sat himself down by the side of his brother, and, fastening the apron of the carriage, called out to the coachman,—
“To the Tol-Hek!”
The Tol-Hek was the iron gate leading to the harbor of Schevening, in which a small vessel was waiting for the two brothers.
The carriage drove off with the fugitives at the full speed of a pair of spirited Flemish horses. Rosa followed them with her eyes until they turned the corner of the street, upon which, closing the door after her, she went back and threw the key into a cell.
