Then they pelt the last unwounded Spaniard back across the little bridge and though Romero holds with his company the St. Jan’s gate on the other side of the demi-lune, the fire from the gabled houses near by, and two or three small cannon and sakers that have been brought up, is so fierce, that not one of the sentries can put his head outside its masonry and live. From this reception, Romero having had an eye shot out leads back his men—those that can get away;—for now comes the greatest horror of it all.
Taught by their adversaries’ many deeds of hideous cruelty, the Dutch sally forth and slowly and in cold blood as butchers do their work, dispatch the Spanish wounded, who cry in vain for quarter.
In all this fight Guy and Haring have stood side by side with Kenau Hasselaer. Where the women have charged they have charged with them, and she coming back laughs and pats them on the shoulders, crying: “Good boys, you did well, almost as well as if you had been women! You have the courage to fight, will you have the courage to starve with us?”
But this starving matter is neither to Haring’s nor Guy’s liking; besides this, they are there for a special purpose. So getting word with Ripperda, who stands on the rampart surrounded by his officers, Guy broaches his errand to him, asking permission to take Bodé Volcker’s daughter from the place.
“I am right glad to see you again, First of the English, and supposed you had come to stay with us,” answers the Holland commander.
“Oh! you don’t need fighters, men nor women,” returns Chester. “You’ve got too many eaters in the town now.”
“You don’t think they’ll capture us?”
“Not by arms,” says the Englishman. “Therefore I say the fewer mouths to feed the safer you are. A provision train or a few boat loads of flour are worth more to you than a thousand veterans.” [[201]]
“You are right,” responds Ripperda, his face growing gloomy. “But I and those with me are here to stay, even with these horrors—Look!”
Daylight has now broken, and peering forth from an embrasure for fear of Spanish arquebus balls, Guy sees the picture of a Dutch town leaguered by the Spaniards. Before him is the demi-lune, its face dotted with dead, its ditch filled with them. Opposite stands the other rampart, the one won by the Spaniards and still occupied by them. Behind this the moat fed by the Spaarne river, commanded by the Spanish batteries of bombards and breaching cannon.