r as regards yourself, but for the example which you
have thus given to others, and which I hope they will all follow. I have
received not less pleasure in hearing of the excellent manner in which
you are doing your duty, the assistance you are rendering, and the offers
which you are making to my sister, for which I thank you, and request you
to continue in the same course."

The words were written by the royal hand which had already signed the
death-warrant of the man to whom they were addressed. Alva, who came
provided with full powers to carry out the great scheme resolved upon,
unrestrained by provincial laws or by the statutes of the Golden Fleece,
had left Madrid to embark for Carthagena, at the very moment when Egmont
was reading the royal letter. "The Spanish honey," to use once more old
Landgrave Philip's homely metaphor, had done its work, and the
unfortunate victim was already entrapped.

Count Horn remained in gloomy silence in his lair at Weert, awaiting the
hunters of men, already on their way. It seemed inconceivable that he,
too, who knew himself suspected and disliked, should have thus blinded
himself to his position. It will be seen, however, that the same perfidy
was to be employed to ensnare him which proved so successful with Egmont.

As for the Prince himself, he did not move too soon. Not long after his
arrival in Germany, Vandenesse, the King's private secretary, but
Orange's secret agent, wrote him word that he had read letters from the
King to Alva in which the Duke was instructed to "arrest the Prince as
soon as he could lay hands upon him, and not to let his trial last more
than twenty-four hours."

Brederode had remained at Viane, and afterwards at Amsterdam, since the
ill-starred expedition of Tholouse, which he had organized, but at which
he had not assisted. He had given much annoyance to the magistracy of
Amsterdam, and to all respectable persons, Calvinist or Catholic. He made
much mischief, but excited no hopes in the minds of reformers. He was
ever surrounded by a host of pot companions, swaggering nobles disguised
as sailors, bankrupt tradesmen, fugitives and outlaws of every
description, excellent people to drink the beggars' health and to bawl
the beggars' songs, but quite unfit for any serious enterprise. People of
substance were wary of him, for they had no confidence in his capacity,
and were afraid of his frequent demands for contributions to the
patriotic cause. He spent hi