that the leaders' care should now be devoted
to the people who had come to the fair. He and Van Hout undertook to
provide for them, and Adrian was soon standing with his father and the
city clerk among the crowds of people, who had been roused from sleep by
the wailing iron voice from the Tower or Pancratius.

CHAPTER XIX.

Adrian's activity for this night was not yet over, for his father did
not prevent his accompanying him to the town-hall. There he directed him
to tell his mother, that he should be busy until morning and the servant
might send all persons, who desired to speak to him after one o'clock,
to the timber-market on the Rhine. Maria sent the boy back to the
town-hall, to ask his father if he did not want his cloak, wine, a lunch
or anything of the sort.

The boy fulfilled this commission with great zeal, for he never had
felt so important as while forcing his way through the crowds that
had gathered in the narrower streets; he had a duty to perform, and
at night, the time when other boys were asleep, especially his
school-mates, who certainly would not be allowed to leave the house now.
Besides, an eventful period, full of the beating of drums, the blare of
trumpets, the rattle of musketry and roar of cannon might be expected.
It seemed as if the game "Holland against Spain" was to be continued in
earnest, and on a grand scale. All the vivacity of his years seized
upon him, and when he had forced a way with his elbows to less crowded
places, he dashed hurriedly along, shouting as merrily as if spreading
some joyful news in the darkness:

"They are coming!" "the Spaniards!" or "Hannibal ante portas."

After learning on his return to the town-hall, that his father wanted
nothing and would send a constable if there was need of anything, he
considered his errand done and felt entitled to satisfy his curiosity.

This drew him first to the English riders. The tent where they had given
their performances had disappeared from the earth, and screaming men
and women were rolling up large pieces of canvas, fastening packs,
and swearing while they harnessed horses. The gloomy light of torches
mingled with the moonbeams and showed him on the narrow steps, that led
to a large four-wheeled cart, a little girl in shabby clothes, weeping
bitterly. Could this be the rosy-cheeked angel who, floating along on
the snow-white pony, had seemed to him like a happy creature from more
beautiful worlds? A scolding old wo