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"You would open the door?"
"No, I should allow it to be forced."

"But they will kill me!"
"Yes, if they see you."

"How shall they not see me?"
"Hide yourself."

"Where?"
"In the secret dungeon."

"But you, my child?"
"I shall get into it with you. We shall lock the door and

when they have left the prison, we shall again come forth
from our hiding place."

"Zounds, you are right, there!" cried Gryphus; "it's
surprising how much sense there is in such a little head!"

Then, as the gate began to give way amidst the triumphant
shouts of the mob, she opened a little trap-door, and said,

--
"Come along, come along, father."

"But our prisoners?"
"God will watch over them, and I shall watch over you."

Gryphus followed his daughter, and the trap-door closed over
his head, just as the broken gate gave admittance to the

populace.
The dungeon where Rosa had induced her father to hide

himself, and where for the present we must leave the two,
offered to them a perfectly safe retreat, being known only

to those in power, who used to place there important
prisoners of state, to guard against a rescue or a revolt.

The people rushed into the prison, with the cry --
"Death to the traitors! To the gallows with Cornelius de

Witt! Death! death!"
Chapter 4

The Murderers
The young man with his hat slouched over his eyes, still

leaning on the arm of the officer, and still wiping from
time to time his brow with his handkerchief, was watching in

a corner of the Buytenhof, in the shade of the overhanging
weather-board of a closed shop, the doings of the infuriated

mob, a spectacle which seemed to draw near its catastrophe.
"Indeed," said he to the officer, "indeed, I think you were

right, Van Deken; the order which the deputies have signed
is truly the death-warrant of Master Cornelius. Do you hear

these people? They certainly bear a sad grudge to the two De
Witts."

"In truth," replied the officer, "I never heard such
shouts."

"They seem to have found out the cell of the man. Look,
look! is not that the window of the cell where Cornelius was

locked up?"
A man had seized with both hands and was shaking the iron

bars of the window in the room which Cornelius had left only
ten minutes before.

"Halloa, halloa!" the man called out, "he is gone."
"How is that? gone?" asked those of the mob who had not been

able to get into the prison, crowded as it was with the mass
of intruders.

"Gone, gone," repeated the man in a rage, "the bird has
flown."

"What does this man say?" asked his Highness, growing quite
pale.

"Oh, Monseigneur, he says a thing which would be very
fortunate if it should turn out true!"

"Certainly it would be fortunate if it were true," said the
young man; "unfortunately it cannot be true."

"However, look!" said the officer.
And indeed, some more faces, furious and contorted with

rage, showed themselves at the windows, crying, --
"Escaped, gone, they have helped them off!"

And the people in the street repeated, with fearful
imprecations, --

"Escaped gone! After them, and catch them!"
"Monseigneur, it seems that Mynheer Cornelius has really

escaped," said the officer.
"Yes, from prison, perhaps, but not from the town; you will

see, Van Deken, that the poor fellow will find the gate
closed against him which he hoped to find open."

"Has an order been given to close the town gates,
Monseigneur?"

"No, -- at least I do not think so; who could have given
such an order?"

"Indeed, but what makes your Highness suppose?"
"There are fatalities," Monseigneur replied, in an offhand

manner; "and the greatest men have sometimes fallen victims
to such fatalities."

At these words the officer felt his blood run cold, as
somehow or other he was convinced that the prisoner was

lost.
At this moment the roar of the multitude broke forth like

thunder, for it was now quite certain that Cornelius de Witt
was no longer in the prison.

Cornelius and John, after driving along the pond, had taken
the main street, which leads to the Tol-Hek, giving

directions to the coachman to slacken his pace, in order not
to excite any suspicion.

But when, on having proceeded half-way down that street, the
man felt that he had left the prison and death behind, and

before him there was life and liberty, he neglected every
precaution, and set his horses off at a gallop.

All at once he stopped.
"What is the matter?" asked John, putting his head out of

the coach window.
"Oh, my masters!" cried the coachman, "it is ---- "

Terror choked the voice of the honest fellow.
"Well, say what you have to say!" urged the Grand

Pensionary.
"The gate is closed, that's what it is."

"How is this? It is not usual to close the gate by day."
"Just look!"

John de Witt leaned out of the window, and indeed saw that
the man was right.

"Never mind, but drive on," said John, "I have with me the
order for the commutation of the punishment, the gate-keeper

will let us through."
The carriage moved along, but it was evident that the driver

was no longer urging his horses with the same degree of
confidence.

Moreover, as John de Witt put his head out of the carriage
window, he was seen and recognized by a brewer, who, being

behind his companions, was just shutting his door in all
haste to join them at the Buytenhof. He uttered a cry of

surprise, and ran after two other men before him, whom he
overtook about a hundred yards farther on, and told them

what he had seen. The three men then stopped, looking after
the carriage, being however not yet quite sure as to whom it

contained.
The carriage in the meanwhile arrived at the Tol-Hek.

"Open!" cried the coachman.
"Open!" echoed the gatekeeper, from the threshold of his

lodge; "it's all very well to say 'Open!' but what am I to
do it with?"

"With the key, to be sure!" said the coachman.
"With the key! Oh, yes! but if you have not got it?"

"How is that? Have not you got the key?" asked the coachman.
"No, I haven't."

"What has become of it?"
"Well, they have taken it from me."

"Who?"
"Some one, I dare say, who had a mind that no one should

leave the town."
"My good man," said the Grand Pensionary, putting out his

head from the window, and risking all for gaining all; "my
good man, it is for me, John de Witt, and for my brother

Cornelius, who I am taking away into exile."
"Oh, Mynheer de Witt! I am indeed very much grieved," said

the gatekeeper, rushing towards the carriage; "but, upon my
sacred word, the key has been taken from me."

"When?"
"This morning."

"By whom?"
"By a pale and thin young man, of about twenty-two."

"And wherefore did you give it up to him?"
"Because he showed me an order, signed and sealed."

"By whom?"
"By the gentlemen of the Town-hall."

"Well, then," said Cornelius calmly, "our doom seems to be
fixed."

"Do you know whether the same precaution has been taken at
the other gates?"

"I do not."
"Now then," said John to the coachman, "God commands man to

do all that is in his power to preserve his life; go, and
drive to another gate."

And whilst the servant was turning round the vehicle the
Grand Pensionary said to the gatekeeper, --

"Take our thanks for your good intentions; the will must
count for the deed; you had the will to save us, and that,

in the eyes of the Lord, is as if you had succeeded in doing
so."

"Alas!" said the gatekeeper, "do you see down there?"
"Drive at a gallop through that group," John called out to

the coachman, "and take the street on the left; it is our
only chance."

The group which John alluded to had, for its nucleus, those
three men whom we left looking after the carriage, and who,

in the meanwhile, had been joined by seven or eight others.
These new-comers evidently meant mischief with regard to the

carriage.
When they saw the horses galloping down upon them, they

placed themselves across the street, brandishing cudgels in
their hands, and calling out, --

"Stop! stop!"
The coachman, on his side, lashed his horses into increased

speed, until the coach and the men encountered.
The brothers De Witt, enclosed within the body of the

carriage, were not able to see anything; but they felt a
severe shock, occasioned by the rearing of the horses. The

whole vehicle for a moment shook and stopped; but
immediately after, passing over something round and elastic,

which seemed to be the body of a prostrate man set off again
amidst a volley of the fiercest oaths.

"Alas!" said Cornelius, "I am afraid we have hurt some one."
"Gallop! gallop!" called John.

But, notwithstanding this order, the coachman suddenly came
to a stop.

"Now, then, what is the matter again?" asked John.
"Look there!" said the coachman.

John looked. The whole mass of the populace from the
Buytenhof appeared at the extremity of the street along

which the carriage was to proceed, and its stream moved
roaring and rapid, as if lashed on by a hurricane.

"Stop and get off," said John to the coachman; "it is


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