Baroness Orczy

“ And it would not be safe to leave the prisoner unguarded. Only from time to time Jan looks to see that the ropes still hold fast, but for the most part his eyes are fixed upon the mist on his left, for that way lies Delft, and from thence will loom out by and by the avenging hordes sent by the Prince of Orange.
Now that all those panting, perspiring human creatures have gone, the frost is more bitter, more biting than before; but neither Piet nor Jan seem to heed it, though their flesh is blue with the cold. ”

“ Then it is that, out of the thickness of the fog a figure suddenly emerges running and panting: a man has fallen up against the group of soldiers who have just halted beside the gibbet.
"It is Lucas of Sparendam come back from Delft," they cry as soon as they recognize the stained face, wet with the frost and the mist.
Already Jan—who with Piet's help was busy with the rope—has heard the name. His wan, thin face has become the colour of ashes. ”

“ He has run all the way from Delft—a matter of a league and a half! Why should a man half kill himself by endeavouring to cover a league and a half in one hour?
"A drop of hot wine for Lucas," cries one of the soldiers. "He is faint."
The other men—there are close on forty all told—crowd round the gibbet now, those in charge of the prisoner have much ado to keep the space clear. They don't say anything just yet, but there is a strange, restless look in their eyes and their lips tremble with all the unspoken questions. ”

“ Now the confusion becomes worse than any that might reign among a herd of animals who are ready to rend one another: they tear the clothes off one another's back, the skin off one another's face: fear—hideous, overwhelming, abject fear, has made wild beasts of these men. The mist envelops them, it is barely light in this basement beneath the molens: lanthorns have long ago been kicked into extinction. ”

“ In five minutes the dark basement is clear of noise—a litter of broken arms lies in one heap close by, others are scattered all over the ground in the mud, together with torn clothing, rags of leather and of cloth and great red pools that mingle with the melted ice. ”

“ Like irresponsible creatures they throw down the very weapons for which they have been fighting. The one man has given the signal for the run. Everything now is thrown aside, there is no thought save for flight. ”

“ At first there is a general stampede for the places where the arms are kept—the muskets, the swords and cullivers—but these are thrown down almost as soon as they are picked up. They are no use now and worse than useless in a flight. ”

“ Until they are relieved from their post of guarding this man by orders from their lord, they will not move. Let the others rage and scream and tumble over one another, there must be at least a few soldiers among this rabble. ”