Shrewsbury shrugged his shoulders delicately.
"I wish we sailed to-morrow," said Fletcher of Saltoun.
The restless Mordaunt moved on, and the others sauntered beside him.
"The boats are all creeping down to the sea laden with arms," he said excitedly. "They lie thick as pebbles among the reeds of the islands of the Rhine and Meure. Sirs, ye should see them."
"I had the Prince his command to stay at The Hague," answered Shrewsbury. "Saw you these boats?"
"That I did, and pontoons, and transports, and the hay slung in ropes in the ports, and the great trains of artillery..."
They were walking towards the Gevangenpoort, the prison gate which rose up by the side of the Vyver. The hazy sky was changing to a tawny colour behind the dark roof lines of the houses, flushed here and there with gold and a stain of purple; little pale, shell-coloured clouds floated away to the uppermost heights of heaven where the clear blue was still untouched, and the water began to glow and burn with the reflected fires of the sky.
The clear chimes of the Groote Kerk struck the hour, and the sound of oncoming horsemen caused the few passers-by to pause before entering the narrow way of the prison arch.
A cavalcade came into sight from the direction of the Stadhuis, and moved at a swift trot towards the Gevangenpoort—a number of gentlemen, with two riding before the others.
As they passed every hat was removed.