“I will appeal.”
“Cornelius, the coach waits below—to take you home.”
“Home! Am I not a banished, outcast man?”
“There are Maria and your children.”
Cornelius was silent.
“You think I give cowardly counsels,” said his brother, “but I am but too well convinced that we need hope for nothing more in Holland.”
He turned away abruptly to hide his agitation, and crossed to the window.
Little groups of people were gathered on the Plaats, mostly looking towards the prison.
The Groote Kerk struck half-past ten.
John walked up and down the rough boards, looking on the ground.