ng some white bread and
pastry, and several other articles of food. Without hesitation I paid
the price demanded for it, and then asked him if he had any news.

"Not much," he said. "Three men going to be hung, two to be burned; the
latter for attempting to assist a heretic prisoner to escape, the other,
who had been a priest, for preaching heretical doctrines." He looked at
me very hard as he spoke.

"That may be," I answered. "It is the fortune of war; we must all run
risks if we are to achieve any important object."

"Ay, ay, I see you know the world, young sir," he answered.

I again plied him with questions about the prospect of escaping, but he
only shook his head, repeating: "You would not ask me if you had seen
the poor fellow burned yesterday."

His argument was a powerful one. Though I did not like the thoughts of
bringing the man into such fearful danger, I still could not resist the
temptation of trying to induce him to help us in getting free. "If we
escape, you will escape with us," I observed; "so that the risk will not
be greater to you than to us."

Still the man shook his head, answering: "I have no fancy for burning!"

Once more we were left alone. The hours appeared very long. Though I
had my two companions to talk to, they were so unhappy that they were
little able to speak on any pleasant subject. At length the silence
which had hitherto reigned in our prison was broken by loud shouts and
cries, which proceeded from the streets beyond us. That something
extraordinary was taking place we had little doubt, yet what it was we
of course could not divine. At length at the usual hour the jailer made
his appearance with our provisions, which were, as he had promised, far
better than the usual prison fare. The man's countenance also showed us
that something had happened. I eagerly put the question to him.

"I don't know what to say; I don't know what to say," he answered; "but
I am not quite certain whether you will be outside this dungeon and I in
before the day is over."

"It is honest in you to say that, my friend," I answered; "but how can
that be?"

"Why, to confess the truth," answered the man, "this morning at daybreak
a strange fleet was seen coming up the river Meuse. No one could tell
whence it came. Some thought it was a fleet of merchant vessels for
Rotterdam: but the question was soon set at rest by my friend Peter
Kopplestock, the ferryman, who, going on board one of