ed on the course of events by
every means in his power, eagerly waiting for the time when the people,
by whom he was idolised, should have made of the bodies of the brothers
the two steps over which he might ascend to the chair of Stadtholder.

Thus, then, on the 20th of August, 1672, as we have already stated in
the beginning of this chapter, the whole town was crowding towards the
Buytenhof, to witness the departure of Cornelius de Witt from prison,
as he was going to exile; and to see what traces the torture of the rack
had left on the noble frame of the man who knew his Horace so well.

Yet all this multitude was not crowding to the Buytenhof with the
innocent view of merely feasting their eyes with the spectacle; there
were many who went there to play an active part in it, and to take upon
themselves an office which they conceived had been badly filled,--that
of the executioner.

There were, indeed, others with less hostile intentions. All that they
cared for was the spectacle, always so attractive to the mob, whose
instinctive pride is flattered by it,--the sight of greatness hurled
down into the dust.

"Has not," they would say, "this Cornelius de Witt been locked up and
broken by the rack? Shall we not see him pale, streaming with blood,
covered with shame?" And was not this a sweet triumph for the burghers
of the Hague, whose envy even beat that of the common rabble; a triumph
in which every honest citizen and townsman might be expected to share?

"Moreover," hinted the Orange agitators interspersed through the crowd,
whom they hoped to manage like a sharp-edged and at the same time
crushing instrument,--"moreover, will there not, from the Buytenhof to
the gate of the town, a nice little opportunity present itself to throw
some handfuls of dirt, or a few stones, at this Cornelius de Witt, who
not only conferred the dignity of Stadtholder on the Prince of Orange
merely vi coactus, but who also intended to have him assassinated?"

"Besides which," the fierce enemies of France chimed in, "if the work
were done well and bravely at the Hague, Cornelius would certainly not
be allowed to go into exile, where he will renew his intrigues with
France, and live with his big scoundrel of a brother, John, on the gold
of the Marquis de Louvois."

Being in such a temper, people generally will run rather than walk;
which was the reason why the inhabitants of the Hague were hurrying so
fast towards the Buytenhof.

Hone