"Yes, yes! It is a trap!" stormed the multitude. "We will have none of it! We will die to the last man, before we will surrender!"
"What right has that wretch of a Spanish King to offer us pardon!" growled Gysbert to his sister and Jan. "He forgive us, indeed! And it is he that has been doing all the wrong and committing all the crimes. Many thanks to him, truly!"
"But what message is it your pleasure that I shall send in answer to this?" asked the burgomaster.
"Tell him," roared Jan, who seemed to have constituted himself spokesman for the people, "that the fowler plays sweet notes on his pipe, while he spreads his net for the birds!"
"Aye, aye!" assented the crowd approvingly. "Tell him that!" "'Tis a good answer," commented Van der Werf, "and I will send it as it stands. Now who will take advantage of this pardon for himself? Let any who may feel so inclined come forward at once, and they shall be sent out of the gates to go their chosen ways in peace."
Another tense silence ensued. Each person stood his own ground stanchly, and watched for any sign of wavering in his neighbor. Presently from out the crowd there pushed a stout old man who finally gained the open space before the burgomaster.
"I am a brewer of Utrecht," he announced. "I do not live in this city and have no desire to maintain the siege. I wish to take advantage of the King's pardon!"
"Be it as you wish, neighbor," answered Van der Werf. "Here are the necessary papers. You shall pass out unmolested, at the opening of the gate." The man received the papers, while the crowd looked on, muttering in contemptuous undertones.
"And I," declared another who had shoved his way to the front, "will also receive the pardon, if you please." Jacqueline grasped her brother's arm convulsively.
"Dirk Willumhoog!" he whistled softly. "The city will be well rid of him, to be sure, but what a coward!"