“I put little faith in the Walloons,” Ned said shortly; “and some of the Germans we know have been bribed. I would rather that all were out of the way, and that it were left to the burghers alone to defend the barricades. I have seen how the citizens of the Netherlands can fight at Haarlem and Alkmaar. As for these Walloons, I have no faith in them. I fear, countess, that the danger is great; and if the Spaniards succeed in winning their way into the town, there is no mercy to be expected for man, woman, or child. I consider that it would be madness for you to stay here.”
“But what are we to do, sir?” the countess asked.
“The only way, madam, is to make your way on board the prince's fleet. I am known to many of the officers, and can place you on board at once. If you wait until the Spaniards enter it will be too late. There will be a wild rush to the river, and the boats will be swamped. If the attack fails, and the Spaniards retire from before the city, you can if you choose return to shore, though I should say that even then it will be better by far to go to Rotterdam or Delft; unless you decide to do as you once talked about, to find a refuge for a time in England.”
“I will accept your offer gladly, sir,” the countess said. “I have long been looking for some way to leave the city. But none can go on board the ships without a pass, and I have not dared to ask for one. Not for worlds would I expose my daughter to the horrors of a sack. Can we go at once?”
“Yes, madam, I have everything in readiness, and would advise no delay.”
“I have nothing that I need mind leaving behind. I am, as you see, more comfortable here than I was at Brussels; but I am still forced to keep my concealment. In five minutes we shall be ready.”
CHAPTER XX. THE “SPANISH FURY”
In a very short time the countess and her daughter returned to the room where Ned was awaiting them. Each carried a handbag.
“We are ready now,” the countess said. “I have my jewels and purse. As for the things we leave behind, they are scarce worth the taking by the Spaniards.”
Locking the door of the house behind them the three women accompanied Ned down to the riverside. He took the first boat that came to hand and rowed them down to the fleet, which was moored a quarter of a mile below the town. He passed the first ship or two, and then rowed to one with whose captain he was acquainted.
“Captain Enkin,” he said, “I have brought on board two ladies who have long been in hiding, waiting an opportunity of being taken to Holland — the Countess Von Harp and her daughter. I fear greatly that Antwerp will fall today, and wish, therefore, to place them in safety before the fight begins. Before sunset, unless I am mistaken, you will have a crowd of fugitives on board.”
“I am very pleased, madam,” the captain said, bowing to the countess, “to receive you, and beg to hand over my cabin for your use. The name you bear is known to all Dutchmen; and even were it not so, anyone introduced to me by my good friend Captain Martin would be heartily welcome.
“Are you going to return on shore?” he asked Ned.
“Yes, I must do so,” Ned replied. “I promised the governor to stand by him to the last; and as he has scarce a soul on whom he can rely, it is clearly my duty to do so. It is not for me to shirk doing my duty as long as I can, because I fear that the day will go against us.”
“You will have difficulty in getting off again if the Spaniards once enter the city,” the captain said. “There will be such a rush to the boats that they will be swamped before they leave shore.”
“I have a boat hidden away in which I hope to bring off the governor with me,” Ned replied. “As to myself, I can swim like a fish.”
“Mind and get rid of your armour before you try it. All the swimming in the world could not save you if you jumped in with all that steel mail on you.”
“I will bear it in mind,” Ned said. “Goodbye, countess. Good-bye, Fraulein Gertrude. I trust to see you at nightfall, if not before.”
“That is a very gallant young officer,” Captain Enkin said as the two ladies sat watching Ned as he rowed to the shore.
“You addressed him as Captain Martin?” the countess said.
“Yes, he has been a captain in the prince's service fully three years,” the sailor said; “and fought nobly at Alkmaar, at the naval battle on the Zuider Zee, and in the sea fight when we drove Romero's fleet back in Bergen. He stands very high in the confidence of the prince, but I do not think he is in our service now. He is often with the prince, but I believe he comes and goes between England and Holland, and is, men say, the messenger by whom private communications between the queen of England and the prince are chiefly carried.”
“He is young to have such confidence reposed in him,” the countess said.
“Yes, he is young,” Captain Enkin replied. “Not, I suppose, beyond seven or eight and twenty. He was a captain and high in the prince's confidence when I first knew him three years ago, so he must surely have been four or five and twenty then; and yet, indeed, now you speak of it, methinks he is greatly bigger now than he was then. I do not think he was much taller than I am, and now he tops me by nigh a head. But I must surely be mistaken as to that, for the prince would scarcely place his confidence in a mere lad.”
The countess made no reply, though she exchanged a quiet smile with her daughter. They knew that Ned could not be much more than twenty. He was, he had said, about three years older than Gertrude, and she had passed seventeen but by a few months.
Ned, on returning to shore, tied up the boat, and then proceeded to the palace of the governor. A servant was holding a horse at the door.
“The governor ordered this horse to be ready and saddled for you, sir, when you arrived, and begged you to join him at once in the marketplace, where he is telling off the troops to their various stations.”
Leaping on the horse, Ned rode to the marketplace, and at once placed himself under orders of the governor.
“There is nothing much for you to do at present,” Champagny said. “The troops are all in their places, and we are ready when they deliver the assault.”
It was not until eleven o'clock that the Spaniards advanced to the attack — 3000 of them, under their Eletto, by the street of St. Michael; the remainder with the Germans, commanded by Romero, by that of St. George. No sooner did the compact masses approach the barricades than the Walloons, who had been so loud in their boasts of valour, and had insisted upon having the post of danger, broke and fled, their commander, Havre, at their head; and the Spaniards, springing over the ramparts, poured into the streets.
“Fetch up the Germans from the exchange!” Champagny shouted to Ned; and leaping his horse over a garden wall, he himself rode to another station and brought up the troops there, and led them in person to bar the road to the enemy, trying in vain to rally the flying Walloons he met on the way. For a few minutes the two parties of Germans made a brave stand; but they were unable to resist the weight and number of the Spaniards, who bore them down by sheer force. Champagny had fought gallantly in the melee, and Ned, keeping closely beside him, had well seconded his efforts; but when the Germans were borne down they rode off, dashing through the streets and shouting to the burghers everywhere to rise in defence of their homes.
They answered to the appeal. The bodies already collected at the exchange and cattle market moved forward, and from every house the men poured out. The Spanish columns had already divided, and were pouring down the streets with savage cries. The German cavalry of Havre under Van Eude at once deserted, and joining the Spanish cavalry fell upon the townsmen. In vain the burghers and such of the German infantry as remained faithful strove to resist their assailants. Although they had been beaten off in their assaults upon breaches, the Spaniards had ever proved themselves invincible on level ground; and now, inspired alike by the fury for slaughter and the lust for gold, there was no withstanding them.