John left the window and came back to the bedside.
The sun was blazing full across the bars and throwing their likeness on the rough floor. The maid who had brought the message to John de Witt’s house entered with a homely meal of bread, cheese, and dried fish.
“Why are you crying, my child?” asked John gently.
She pressed her apron to her eyes.
“Oh, Mynheer,” she said in terrified sobbing, “the people! … outside … they grow every moment more excited.…”
“What do they want?” asked Cornelius calmly.
“To kill you!” she answered in a burst of terror. “Oh, Mynheer!”
The Ruard’s dark eyes flashed.
“Very well,” he said, “I am here—let them come—but they have no excuse to detain my brother.”