“We will wait,” replied the commissioner, “but don’t forget that we shall soon be shut within these walls behind bolts and bars, like prisoners, and perhaps day after to-morrow no messenger will be able to get to him.”
“Van Hout is swift with his pen.”
“And let a proclamation be read aloud, early tomorrow morning, advising the women, old men and children, in short, all who will diminish the stock of provisions and add no strength to the defence, to leave the city. They can reach Delft without danger, for the roads leading to it are still open.”
“Very well,” replied Peter. “It’s said that many girls and women have gone to-day in advance of the others.”
“That’s right,” cried the commissioner. “We are driving in a fragile vessel on the high seas. If I had a daughter in the house, I know what I should do. Farewell till we meet again, Meister. How are matters at Alfen? The firing is no longer heard.”
“Darkness has probably interrupted the battle.”
“We’ll hope for the best news to-morrow, and even if all the men outside succumb, we within the walls will not flinch or yield.”
“We will hold out firmly to the end,” replied Peter resolutely.
“To the end, and, if God so wills it, a successful end.”
“Amen,” cried Peter, pressed the commissioner’s hand and pursued his way home.