ith the battalions of the Prince of Orange, of whom part
were already in garrison there, while the other part entered the city in
fractions.

When all was ready for a vigorous defense, the Prince of Orange, on a
dark and moonless night, entered the city quietly, and went to the Hotel
de Ville, where his confidants had everything ready for his reception.
There he received all the deputies of the bourgeoisie, passed in review
the officers of the paid troops, and communicated his plans to them, the
chief of which was to profit by this movement of the Duc d'Anjou to
break with him. The duke had done just what William wished to bring him
to, and he saw with pleasure this new competitor for the sovereignty
ruin himself, like so many others.

William would have taken the offensive, but the governor objected, and
determined to wait for the arrival of monseigneur.

Nine o'clock in the evening sounded, and the uncertainty became real
anxiety, some scouts having protested that they had seen a movement in
the French camp. A little flat boat had been sent on the Scheldt to
reconnoiter, for the Antwerpians were less unquiet as to what would
occur by land than by sea; but the bark had not returned. William became
more and more impatient, when the door of the hall opened, and a valet
appeared and announced "Monseigneur." As he spoke, a man, tall and
imperious-looking, wearing with supreme grace the cloak which entirely
enveloped him, entered the hall, and saluted courteously those who were
there. But at the first glance, his eye, proud and piercing, sought out
the prince in the midst of his officers.

He went straight up to him and offered him his hand, which the prince
pressed with affection, and almost with respect.

They called each other "Monseigneur." After this the unknown took off
his cloak. He was dressed in a buff doublet, and had high leather boots;
he was armed with a long sword, which seemed to make part of himself, so
easily it hung, and with a little dagger, which was passed through his
belt. His boots were covered with mud and dust, and his spurs were red
with the blood of his horse. He took his place at the table.

"Well, where are we?" asked he.

"Monseigneur," replied William, "you must have seen, in coming here,
that the streets were barricaded."

"I saw that."

"And the houses loopholed?"

"I did not see that; but it is a good plan."

"And the sentries doubled?"

"Does not monseigneur approve of these