The three men separated before the burgomaster’s house.
“Tell the Prince,” said Van Hout, on parting, “that we are prepared for the worst, will endure and dare it.”
At these words Janus Dousa measured both his companions with his eyes, his lips quivered as they always did when any strong emotion filled his heart, and while his shrewd face beamed with joy and confidence, he exclaimed: “We three will hold out, we three will stand firm, the tyrant may break our necks, but he shall not bend them. Life, fortune, all that is dear and precious and useful to man, we will resign for the highest of blessings.”
“Ay,” said Van der Werff, loudly and earnestly, while Van Hout impetuously repeated: “Yes, yes, thrice yes.”
The three men, so united in feeling, grasped each other’s hands firmly for a moment. A silent vow bound them in this hour, and when Herr von Nordwyk and Van Hout turned in opposite directions, the citizens who met them thought their tall figures had grown taller still within the last few hours.
The burgomaster went to his wife’s room without delay, but did not find her there.
She had gone out of the gate with his sister.
The maid-servant carried a light into his chamber; he followed her, examined the huge locks of his pistols, buckled on his old sword, put what he needed into his saddle-bags, then, with his tall figure drawn up to its full height, paced up and down the room, entirely absorbed in his task.
Herr von Nordwyk’s chestnut horse was stamping on the pavement before the door, and Hesperus was rising above the roofs.
The door of the house now opened.