he dawn of
morning, Adrian turned his steps towards home, there was little more
bustle in the streets than on ordinary nights.

His mother and Barbara had been anxious, but he told them about his
father and in what manner he had put a stop to the confusion.

While talking, the rattle of musketry was heard in the distance, awaking
such excitement in Adrian's mind, that he wanted to rush out again; but
his mother stopped him and he was obliged to mount the stairs to his
room. He did not go to sleep, but climbed to the upper loft in the gable
of the rear building and gazed through the window, to which the bales of
leather were raised by pulleys, towards the east, from whence the sound
of firing was still audible. But he saw nothing except the dawn and
light clouds of smoke, that assumed a rosy hue as they floated upward.
As nothing new appeared, his eyes closed, and he fell asleep beside the
open window where he dreamed of a bloody battle and the English riders.
His slumber was so sound, that he did not hear the rumble of wheels in
the quiet courtyard below him. The carts from which the noise proceeded
belonged to traders from neighboring cities, who preferred to leave
their goods in the threatened town, rather than carry them towards the
advancing Spaniards. Meister Peter had allowed some of them to store
their property with him. The carts were obliged to pass through the
back-building with the workshops, and the goods liable to be injured
by the weather, were to be placed in the course of the day in the large
garrets of his house.

The burgomaster's wife had gone to Henrica at midnight to soothe her
fears, but the sick girl seemed free from all anxiety, and when she
heard that the Spaniards were on the march, her eyes sparkled joyously.
Maria noticed it and turned away from her guest, but she repressed the
harsh words that sprang to her lips, wished her good-night, and left the
chamber.

Henrica gazed thoughtfully after her and then rose, for no sleep was
possible that night. The alarm-bell in the Tower of Pancratius rang
incessantly, and more than once doors opened, voices and shots were
heard. Many tones and noises, whose origin and nature she could not
understand, reached her ears, and when morning dawned, the court-yard
under her windows, usually so quiet, was full of bustle. Carts rattled,
loud tones mingled excitedly, and a deep masculine voice seemed to be
directing what was going on. Her curiosity and restles