ho, it would appear, then occupied the
ancient chateau, which no longer exists at Ryswyk. The box of arms
was found in the place pointed out by the informers, and measures
were instantly taken to arrest the various accomplices. Several
were seized. Groeneveld had escaped along the coast disguised as
a fisherman, and had nearly effected his passage to England,
when he was recognized and arrested in the island of Vlieland.
Slatius and others were also intercepted in their attempts at
escape.--Stoutenbourg, the most culpable of all, was the most
fortunate; probably from the energy of character which marks
the difference between a bold adventurer and a timid speculator.
He is believed to have passed from The Hague in the same manner
as Grotius quitted his prison; and, by the aid of a faithful
servant, he accomplished his escape through various perils, and
finally reached Brussels, where the archduchess Isabella took him
under her special protection. He for several years made efforts to
be allowed to return to Holland; but finding them hopeless, even
after the death of Maurice, he embraced the Catholic religion, and
obtained the command of a troop of Spanish cavalry, at the head
of which he made incursions into his native country, carrying
before him a black flag with the effigy of a death's head, to
announce the mournful vengeance which he came to execute.

Fifteen persons were executed for the conspiracy. If ever mercy
was becoming to a man, it would have been pre-eminently so to
Maurice on this occasion; but he was inflexible as adamant. The
mother, the wife, and the son of Groeneveld, threw themselves at
his feet, imploring pardon. Prayers, tears and sobs were alike
ineffectual. It is even said that Maurice asked the wretched
mother "why she begged mercy for her son, having refused to do
as much for her husband?" To which cruel question she is reported
to have made the sublime answer--"Because my son is guilty, and
my husband was not."

These bloody executions caused a deep sentiment of gloom. The
conspiracy excited more pity for the victims than horror for the
intended crime. Maurice, from being the idol of his countrymen, was
now become an object of their fear and dislike. When he moved from
town to town, the people no longer hailed him with acclamations; and
even the common tokens of outward respect were at times withheld. The
Spaniards, taking advantage of the internal weakness consequent on
this state of public