hed them, preferable to spring dew-drops
mirroring the sunshine.

Behind the strong fort of Lammen, defended by several hundred Spanish
soldiers, and the Castle of Cronenstein, a keen eye could distinguish
the Beggars' vessels.

During Thursday and Friday Wilhelm watched in vain for a dove, but on
Saturday his best flier returned, bringing a letter from Admiral Boisot,
who called upon the armed forces of the city to sally out on Friday and
attack Lammen.

The storm had blown the pigeon away. It had reached the city too late,
but on Saturday evening Janus Dousa and Captain Van der Laen were
actively engaged, summoning every one capable of bearing arms to appear
early Sunday morning. Poor, pale, emaciated troops were those who obeyed
the leaders' call, but not a man was absent and each stood ready to give
his life for the deliverance of the city and his family.

The tempest had moderated, the firing had ceased, and the night was dark
and sultry. No eyes wished to sleep, and those whose slumber overpowered
for a short time, were startled and terrified by strange, mysterious
noises. Wilhelm sat in his look-out, gazing towards the south and
listening intently. Sometimes a light gust of wind whistled around the
lofty house, sometimes a shout, a scream, or the blast of a trumpet
echoed through the stillness of the night; then a crashing noise, as if
an earthquake had shaken part of the city to its foundations, arose near
the Cow-Gate. Not a star was visible in the sky, but bright spots, like
will-o'-the-wisps, moved through the dense gloom in regular order near
Lanimen. It was a horrible, anxious night.

Early next morning the citizens saw that a part of the city-wall near
the Cow-Gate had fallen, and then unexampled rejoicing arose at the
breach, no longer dangerous; exultant cries echoed through every street
and alley, drawing from the houses men and women, grey-beards and
children, the sick and the well, one after another thronging to
the Cow-Gate, where the Beggars' fleet was seen approaching. The
city-carpenter, Thomassohn, and other men, tore out of the water the
posts by which the Spaniards had attempted to bar the vessels' advance,
then the first ship, followed by a second and third, arrived at the
walls. Stern, bearded men, with fierce, scarred, weather-beaten faces,
whose cheeks for years had been touched by no salt moisture, save the
sea-spray, smiled kindly at the citizens, flung them one loaf of bread
after