nge!" shouted the boys, among whom were Adrian and the son
of the dead fencing-master Allertssohn; the women waved their
handkerchiefs, and all eyes were fixed on the Britons. A loud flourish of
trumpets was heard, the English mounted officers dashed towards the
colonel and held a short council of war with him, interrupted by hasty
words from several individuals, and soon after a signal was sounded. The
soldiers hurriedly, formed in marching array, many of them shaking their
fists at the city. Halberds and muskets, which had been stacked, were
seized by their owners and, amid the beating of drums and blare of
trumpets, order arose out of the confusion. Individuals fell into ranks,
ranks into companies, gay flags were unfurled and flung to the evening
breeze, and with loud hurrahs the troops marched along the Rhine towards
the south-west, where the Spanish outposts were stationed.

The Leyden boys joined loudly in the Englishmen's cheer.

Even Andreas, the fencing-master's son, had begun to shout with them; but
when he saw a tall captain marching proudly before his company, his voice
failed and, covering his eyes with his hands, he ran home to his mother.

The other lads did not notice him, for the setting sun flashed so
brightly on the coats of mail and helmets of the soldiers, the trumpets
sounded so merrily, the officers' steeds caracoled so proudly under their
riders, the gay plumes and banners and the smoke of the glimmering
matches gained such beautiful hues in the roseate light of sunset, that
eyes and ears seemed spellbound by the spectacle. But a fresh incident
now attracted the attention of great and small.

Thirty-six Englishmen, among them several officers, lingered behind the
others and approached the gate. Again the lock creaked and the chains
rattled. The little band was admitted to the city and welcomed at the
first houses of the northern end by Herr Van Bronkhorst and the
burgomaster.

Every one on the walls had expected, that a skirmish between the
retreating Englishmen and Castilians would now take place before their
eyes. But they were greatly mistaken. Before the first ranks reached the
enemy, the matches for lighting the cannon flew through the air, the
banners were lowered, and when darkness came and the curious spectators
dispersed, they knew that the Englishmen had deserted the good cause and
gone over to the Spaniards.

The thirty-six men, who had been admitted through the gates, were the