'Precisely; four,' the young lord answered.
'But who? I do not know them,' the Mayor faltered.
The Waldgrave shook his head gently. 'That is your concern, Burgomaster,' he said, with a smile. 'In forty-eight hours much may be done.'
Hofman's hair stood fairly on end. Craven as he was, the thought of the crowd in the market-place, the thought of the reception he would have, if he assented to such terms, gave him courage.
'I will consult with my colleagues,' he said with a great gulp.
'I am afraid that you will not have the opportunity,' the Waldgrave rejoined, in a peculiarly suave tone. 'Until the four are given up to us, we prefer to take care of you and the learned Minister. I see that you have brought two or three friends with you; they will serve to convey what has passed to the town. And I doubt not that within a few hours we shall be able to release you.'
Master Hofman fell a trembling.
'My lord,' he cried, between tears and rage, 'my privileges!'
'Master Mayor,' the Waldgrave answered, with a sudden snap and snarl, which showed his strong white teeth, 'my dead servants.'
After that there was no more to be said. The Burgomaster shrank back with a white face, and though Dietz, with rage burning in his sallow cheeks, cried 'woe to him' who separated the shepherd from the sheep, and would have added half-a-dozen like texts, old Jacob cut him short by dropping his halberd on his toes and promptly removed him and the quavering Burgomaster to strong quarters in the tower. Meanwhile the other members of the party were marched nothing loth to the steps, and despatched through the gate with the same formality which had surprised us on our arrival.