ay of our journey, we
were compelled to stop and rest. Wearied by my ride, and the anxiety I
had gone through, I slept soundly. How long my slumbers had lasted I
know not, when I felt a rough hand on my shoulder. I started up,
wondering what was about to happen.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

IN PRISON AT BRILL.

As I have before mentioned, I was aroused out of my sleep by a heavy
hand on my shoulder. "Your name is Ernst Verner," said a voice. "You
were born in the Netherlands, and your father was a Netherlander?"

Scarcely having yet gained my senses after being awoke out of my heavy
slumbers, I answered immediately: "Of course. You are perfectly right
in what you say, whoever you are." Directly afterwards I regretted
having thus spoken, but it was too late.

"He acknowledges who he is!" cried the same voice; and by the light of a
lantern which another man held up before my face, I saw that several
armed persons were in the room. "Get up and dress yourself immediately;
you will accompany us!" said the man who had first spoken.

I now too clearly guessed what had happened: I was in the hands of
Alva's officers, and had no means of escape. Jacob had been taken in a
like manner, as was also my servant John, who, however, being an
Englishman, was in less danger than we were.

Immediately we were dressed we were ordered downstairs, where we found
our horses, and, being compelled to mount, we set forth immediately, two
men going before with torches to light us on our way. We proceeded for
some hours in the dark, our guards refusing to give us any information.
We stopped for a short time only for meals, and, after crossing several
ferries, we found ourselves entering a fortified town. Neither Jacob
nor I knew the place; but I guessed from its position that it was Brill,
on the river Meuse. Why we were carried there I could not tell, except,
perchance, that it was considered necessary, in order to keep the
inhabitants in recollection of what they would suffer should they show
any signs of rebellion, that we were there doomed to be sacrificed. It
was not a pleasant thought, yet it seemed too probable. It might have
been considered a more suitable place than Rotterdam for our
imprisonment. Be that as it might, we were conducted to the jail, and
there cast together into a loathsome dungeon, cold and damp, into which
but a single ray of light penetrated. That ray came through a small
grated aperture on one side