at the Town-hall expect that the people at the Hague would like to see you depart, and there is some apprehension of a tumult.”
“Of a tumult?” replied Cornelius, fixing his eyes on his perplexed brother; “a tumult?”
“Yes, Cornelius.”
“Oh! that’s what I heard just now,” said the prisoner, as if speaking to himself. Then, turning to his brother, he continued,—
“Are there many persons down before the prison.”
“Yes, my brother, there are.”
“But then, to come here to me”
“Well?”
“How is it that they have allowed you to pass?”
“You know well that we are not very popular, Cornelius,” said the Grand Pensionary, with gloomy bitterness. “I have made my way through all sorts of bystreets and alleys.”
“You hid yourself, John?”
“I wished to reach you without loss of time, and I did what people will do in politics, or on the sea when the wind is against them,—I tacked.”
At this moment the noise in the square below was heard to roar with increasing fury. Tilly was parleying with the burghers.
“Well, well,” said Cornelius, “you are a very skilful pilot, John; but I doubt whether you will as safely guide your brother out of the Buytenhof in the midst of this gale, and through the raging surf of popular hatred, as you did the fleet of Van Tromp past the shoals of the Scheldt to Antwerp.”
“With the help of God, Cornelius, we’ll at least try,” answered John; “but, first of all, a word with you.”
“Speak!”
The shouts began anew.
