"I swear by God that it is true," proclaimed Laurence, fervently.
The exclamation which she would have uttered froze upon Clémence van Rycke's lips; for a moment she remained quite still, leaning slightly forward with hands resting upon the arms of the chair. Then a pitiable moan escaped her, and slowly she rose and then fell upon her knees.
"Oh God! forgive me," she cried, "if this be true."
"It is true, mother," said Laurence firmly. "For close on two hours to-night I sat close to him whilst he spoke. In the absence of the Prince of Orange we have chosen him as our leader; if the Duke of Alva refuses the proposals which we are going to put before him, Mark will lead us to fight or to death."
"The proposal! What proposal?"
"That Leatherface be given up to the tyrant as the price of the safety of the city."
"And you--his brother--agreed to this infamous suggestion?" murmured Clémence hoarsely.
"We must not leave a stone unturned or a man alive to save the women and children," replied Laurence sombrely.
"Then may God have mercy on us all!" cried Clémence, and she fell back heart-broken against the cushions of her chair.
CHAPTER XIV