the throng. Baring his breast before them, he fiercely invited and dared
their utmost violence. Of his life-blood, he told them bitterly, he was
no niggard, and it was at their disposal. His wealth, had he possessed
any, would have been equally theirs. Shamed into temporary respect, but
not turned from their purpose by the choler of their chief, they left him
to himself. Soon afterwards, having swept Schouwen island bare of every
thing which could be consumed, the mutineers swarmed out of Zealand into
Brabant, devouring as they went.

It was their purpose to hover for a time in the neighbourhood of the
capital, and either to force the Council of State to pay them their long
arrears, or else to seize and sack the richest city upon which they could
lay their hands. The compact, disciplined mass, rolled hither and
thither, with uncertainty of purpose, but with the same military
precision of movement which had always characterized these remarkable
mutinies. It gathered strength daily. The citizens of Brussels
contemplated with dismay the eccentric and threatening apparition.
They knew that rapine, murder, and all the worst evils which man can
inflict on his brethren were pent within it, and would soon descend.
Yet, even with all their past experience, did they not foresee the depth
of woe which was really impending. The mutineers had discarded such of
their officers as they could not compel to obedience, and had, as usual,
chosen their Eletto. Many straggling companies joined them as they swept
to and fro. They came to Herenthals, where they were met by Count
Mansfeld, who was deputed by the Council of State to treat with them,
to appeal to them; to pardon them, to offer, them everything but money.
It may be supposed that the success of the commander-in-chief was no
better than that of Mondragon and his subalterns. They laughed him to
scorn when he reminded them how their conduct was tarnishing the glory
which they had acquired by nine years of heroism. They answered with