s spoliation, the hero of Lepanto appears to have done his
best to stop the effusion of blood; and, notwithstanding the
counteraction of the Prince of Orange, the following spring, peace
and an amnesty were proclaimed. The treaty signed at Marche, (known
by the name of the Perpetual Edict,) promised as much tranquillity as
was compatible with the indignation of a country which had seen the
blood of its best and noblest poured forth, and the lives and
property of its citizens sacrificed without mercy or calculation.

But, though welcomed to Brussels by the acclamations of the people
and the submission of the States, Don John appears to have been fully
sensible that his head was within the jaws of the lion. The blood of
Egmont had not yet sunk into the earth; the echoes of the edicts of
Alva yet lingered in the air; and the very stones of Brussels
appeared to rise up and testify against a brother of Philip II.!

Right thankful, therefore, was the young prince when an excuse was
afforded for establishing himself in a more tenable position, by an
incident which must again be accounted among the romantic adventures
of his life. For the sudden journey of the fascinating Margaret of
Valois to the springs of Spa, on pretence of indisposition, was
generally attributed to a design against the heart of the hero of
Lepanto.

A prince so remarkable for his gallantry of knighthood, could do no
less than wait upon the sister of the French king, on her passage
through Namur; and, once established in the citadel of that
stronghold of the royalists, he quitted it no more. In process of
time, a camp was formed in the environs, and fortresses erected on
the banks of the Meuse under the inspection of Don John; nor was it
at first easy to determine whether his measures were actuated by
mistrust of the Protestants, or devotion to the worst and most
Catholic of wives of the best and most Huguenot of kings.

The blame of posterity, enlightened by the journal of Queen
Margaret's proceedings in Belgium, (bequeathed for our edification by
the alienated queen of Henri IV.,) has accused Don John of blindness,
in the right-loyal reception bestowed on her, and the absolute
liberty accorded her during her residence at Spa, where she was
opening a road for the arrival of her brother the Duke of Alencon. It
is admitted, indeed, that her attack upon his heart met with defeat.
But the young governor is said to have made up in chivalrous
courtesies for