ers who did
not know the cause of the alarm, and misled by the most imminent fear,
roared: "The Spaniards! The Spaniards!" Whatever came in the way of the
terrified throngs was overthrown. A sieve-dealer's child, standing beside
its father's upset cart, fell beneath the mob close beside Adrian, who
had stationed himself in the door-way of a house. But the lad was crowded
so closely into his hiding-place, that he could not spring to the little
one's aid, and his attention was attracted to a new sight, as Janus Dousa
appeared on horseback. In answer to the cry of "The Spaniards! The
Spaniards!" he shouted loudly: "Quiet, people, quiet! The enemy hasn't
come yet! To the Rhine! Vessels are waiting there for all strangers. To
the Rhine! There are no Spaniards there, do you hear, no Spaniards!"

The nobleman stopped just before Adrian, for his horse could go no
farther and stood snorting and trembling under his rider. The advice bore
little fruit, and not until hundreds had rushed past him, did the
frightened crowd diminish. The bear, from which they fled, had been
caught by a brewer's apprentice and taken back to its owner long before.
The city constables now appeared, led by Adrian's father, and the boy
followed them unobserved to the timber-market on the southern bank of the
Rhine. There another crowd met him, for many dealers had hurried thither
to save their property in the ships. Men and women pressed past bales and
wares, that were being rolled down the narrow wooden bridges to the
vessels. A woman, a child, and a rope-maker's cart had been pushed into
the water, and the wildest confusion prevailed around the spot. But the
burgomaster reached the place just at the right time, gave directions for
rescuing the drowning people, and then made every, exertion to bring
order out of the confusion.

The constables were commanded to admit fugitives only on board the
vessels bound for the places where they belonged; two planks were laid to
every ship, One for goods, the other for passengers; the constables
loudly shouted that--as the law directed when the alarm-bell rang--all
citizens of Leyden must enter their houses and the streets be cleared, on
pain of a heavy penalty. All the city gates were opened for the passage
of wheeled vehicles, except the Hohenort Gate, which led to Leyderdorp,
where egress was refused. Thus the crowd in the streets was lessened,
order appeared amid the tumult, and when, in the dawn of morning, Adria