"Pfui Teufel! Ich am klad I vas shmoke it in mein bipe. It vas batriotic, heh, Hanse? Let ush av te olt name pack again, Hanse."
"Vera koot, mein comrate, Ich vill."
"Ich too. Now if the peoplesh shay Yorck, tey shall pe put in de guarthouse for traitor. If tey shay Nieuve Amstertam, den tey pe Kristian peoplesh and honest men."
"If she pe a voman, comrate?"
"Den she shall pe von honest voman, to pe shure."
At this juncture of the embryo conspiracy, hatching in his very stronghold and among his tried warriors, against the Earl of Bellamont's government, striking at its very roots, and teeming with seeds of a civil war, a low, dark figure appeared from behind the guardhouse and suddenly confronted them.
"Himmel tausand! Te vitch—te tyfil!" they both exclaimed in one breath as she stood before them, plainly visible by the light of the lamp that illuminated her wild features, and threw into strong contrasts of light and shadow the prominent angles of her hideous person.
"Let me forth," she said, in a commanding tone, laying her hand with a determined gesture on the heavy bar that was placed against the gates.
The men drew back in alarm, and uttered exorcisms expressive of superstitious fear.
"Will ye not unbar? Brave men are ye to keep watch and guard over a city's gates. Unbolt!"