vessel, which was apparently filled with blocks of turf, and packed
themselves closely in the hold. They moved slowly during a little time
on their perilous voyage; for the winter wind, thick with fog and sleet,
blew directly down the river, bringing along with it huge blocks of ice
and scooping the water out of the dangerous shallows, so as to render the
vessel at any moment liable to be stranded. At last the navigation
became impossible and they came to a standstill. From Monday night till
Thursday morning those seventy Hollanders lay packed like herrings in the
hold of their little vessel, suffering from hunger, thirst, and deadly
cold; yet not one of them attempted to escape or murmured a wish to
abandon the enterprise. Even when the third morning dawned there was no
better prospect of proceeding; for the remorseless east wind still blew a
gale against them, and the shoals which beset their path had become more
dangerous than ever. It was, however, absolutely necessary to recruit
exhausted nature, unless the adventurers were to drop powerless on the
threshold when they should at last arrive at their destination. In all
secrecy they went ashore at a lonely castle called Nordam, where they
remained to refresh themselves until about eleven at night, when one of
the boatmen came to them with the intelligence that the wind had changed
and was now blowing freshly in from the sea. Yet the voyage of a few
leagues, on which they were embarked, lasted nearly two whole days
longer. On Saturday afternoon they passed through the last sluice, and
at about three o'clock the last boom was shut behind them. There was no
retreat possible for them now. The seventy were to take the strong
castle and city of Breda or to lay down their lives, every man of them.
No quarter and short shrift--such was their certain destiny, should that
half-crippled, half-frozen little band not succeed in their task before
another sunrise.

They were now in the outer harbour and not far from the Watergate which