“That is,” said John, “what you will never obtain in these wild and passionate times.”
“What we shall neither of us obtain under William of Orange,” replied Cornelius.
The gaoler had left them, yet even before the two clerks the remark was rash.
“The Stadtholder,” said John de Witt, “did what he could—he warned me to leave the Hague soon.”
But Cornelius was ever the more fiery and unyielding of the two; he had a warlike pride not easily subdued; with the same unshaken firmness with which he had endured the rack he protested that he would appeal to the Grand Council.
His brother represented that it would be in vain, as the decision of the court was held to be final.
“I wonder,” said Cornelius, “that you try to persuade me against my honour. Why should I submit to tyranny?”
He looked at his hands, through the linen bandages of which the blood was oozing.
“Have I not borne enough?” he demanded proudly.