d in it were the bodies of Spanish soldiers--how many Adrian could not
tell, but there they lay with their harness still on them. After these
again, in a long and melancholy procession, marched other Spanish
soldiers, some of them sorely wounded, and, like Foy, carried upon doors
or ladders, and others limping forward with the help of their comrades.
No wonder that Martin walked proudly to his doom, since behind him came
the rich harvest of the sword Silence. Also, there were other signs to
see and hear, since about the cavalcade surged and roared a great mob of
the citizens of Leyden.

"Bravo, Martin! Well fought, Foy van Goorl!" they shouted, "We are proud
of you! We are proud of you!" Then from the back of the crowd someone
cried, "Rescue them!" "Kill the Inquisition dogs!" "Tear the Spaniards
to pieces!"

A stone flew through the air, then another and another, but at a word of
command the soldiers faced about and the mob drew back, for they had
no leader. So it went on till they were within a hundred yards of the
Gevangenhuis.

"Don't let them be murdered," cried the voice. "A rescue! a rescue!" and
with a roar the crowd fell upon the soldiers. It was too late, for the
Spaniards, trained to arms, closed up and fought their way through,
taking their prisoners with them. But they cost them dear, for the
wounded men, and those who supported them, were cut off. They were cut
off, they were struck down. In a minute they were dead, every one of
them, and although they still held its fortresses and walls, from that
hour the Spaniards lost their grip of Leyden, nor did they ever win it
back again. From that hour to this Leyden has been free. Such were the
first fruits of the fight of Foy and Martin against fearful odds.

The great doors of oak and iron of the Gevangenhuis clashed to behind
the prisoners, the locks were shot, and the bars fell home, while
outside raved the furious crowd.

The place was not large nor very strong, merely a drawbridge across the
narrow arm of a moat, a gateway with a walled courtyard beyond, and over
it a three-storied house built in the common Dutch fashion, but with
straight barrel windows. To the right, under the shadow of the archway,
which, space being limited, was used as an armoury, and hung with
weapons, lay the court-room where prisoners were tried, and to the left
a vaulted place with no window, not unlike a large cellar in appearance.
This was the torture-chamber. Beyond was the