and a quaint gabled house in Tombland almost
beneath the shadow of the tall spire of the cathedral, which now for
about a year had been the home of Lysbeth van Goorl and Elsa Brant. Here
to Norwich they had come in safety in the autumn of 1573 just before
the first siege of Leyden was begun, and here they had dwelt for twelve
long, doubtful, anxious months. News, or rather rumours, of what was
passing in the Netherlands reached them from time to time; twice even
there came letters from Foy himself, but the last of these had been
received many weeks ago just as the iron grip of the second leaguer was
closing round the city. Then Foy and Martin, so they learned from the
letter, were not in the town but with the Prince of Orange in Delft,
working hard at the fleet which was being built and armed for its
relief.

After this there was a long silence, and none could tell what had
happened, although a horrible report reached them that Leyden had been
taken, sacked, and burnt, and all its inhabitants massacred. They lived
in comfort here in Norwich, for the firm of Munt and Brown, Dirk van
Goorl's agents, were honest, and the fortune which he had sent over
when the clouds were gathering thick, had been well invested by them
and produced an ample revenue. But what comfort could there be for their
poor hearts thus agonised by doubts and sickening fears?

One evening they sat in the parlour on the ground floor of the house, or
rather Lysbeth sat, for Elsa knelt by her, her head resting upon the arm
of the chair, and wept.

"Oh! it is cruel," she sobbed, "it is too much to bear. How can you be
so calm, mother, when perhaps Foy is dead?"

"If my son is dead, Elsa, that is God's Will, and I am calm, because
now, as many a time before, I resign myself to the Will of God,
not because I do not suffer. Mothers can feel, girl, as well as
sweethearts."

"Would that I had never left him," moaned Elsa.

"You asked to leave, child; for my part I should have bided the best or
the worst in Leyden."

"It is true, it is because I am a coward; also he wished it."

"He wished it, Elsa, therefore it is for the best; let us await the
issue in patience. Come, our meal is set."

They sat themselves down to eat, these two lonely women, but at their
board were laid four covers as though they expected guests. Yet none
were bidden--only this was Elsa's fancy.

"Foy and Martin _might_ come," she said, "and be vexed if it seemed that
we did not