were met by a rude vehicle covered with canvas. Gerard was put into
this, and about five in the evening was secretly conveyed into the
prison of the Stadthouse. He was taken up several flights of stairs
and thrust into a small room lighted only by a narrow window, with a
vertical iron bar. The whole furniture was a huge oak chest.

Imprisonment in that age was one of the highroads to death. It is
horrible in its mildest form; but in those days it implied cold,
unbroken solitude, torture, starvation, and often poison. Gerard felt he
was in the hands of an enemy.

"Oh, the look that man gave me on the road to Rotterdam. There is more
here than my father's wrath. I doubt I shall see no more the light of
day." And he kneeled down and commended his soul to God.

Presently he rose and sprang at the iron bar of the window, and clutched
it. This enabled him to look out by pressing his knees against the wall.
It was but for a minute; but in that minute he saw a sight such as none
but a captive can appreciate.

Martin Wittenhaagen's back.

Martin was sitting, quietly fishing in the brook near the Stadthouse.

Gerard sprang again at the window, and whistled. Martin instantly showed
that he was watching much harder than fishing. He turned hastily round
and saw Gerard--made him a signal, and taking up his line and bow, went
quickly off.

Gerard saw by this that his friends were not idle: yet had rather Martin