close with a brilliant exhibition. Wherever the walls, as far as
Catherine's Tower, afforded a foothold, they were crowded with men,
women, and children. The old masonry looked like the spectators' seats
in an arena, and the buzzing of the many-headed, curious crowd was heard
for a long distance in the city.

It is a kind dispensation of Providence, that enables men to enjoy a
brief glimpse of sunshine amid terrible storms, and thus the journeymen
and apprentices, women and children, forgot the impending danger and
feasted their eyes on the beautifully-dressed English soldiers, who were
looking up at them, nodding and laughing saucily to the young girls,
though part of them, it is true, were awaiting with thoughtful faces the
results of the negotiations going on within the walls.

The doors of the White Gate now opened; Commissioner Van Bronkhorst, Van
der Werff, Van Hout and other leaders of the community accompanied the
British colonel and his trumpeter to the bridge. The former seemed to be
filled with passionate indignation and several times struck his hand on
the hilt of his sword, the Leyden magistrates were talking to him, and at
last took leave with low bows, which he answered only with a haughty wave
of the hand. The citizens returned, the portals of the gate closed, the
old lock creaked, the iron-shod beams fell back into their places, the
chains of the drawbridge rattled audibly, and the assembled throng now
knew that the Englishmen had been refused admittance to the city.

Loud cheers, mingled with many an expression of displeasure, were heard.
"Long live Orange!" shouted the boys, among whom were Adrian and the son
of the dead fencing-master Allertssohn; the women waved their
handkerchiefs, and all eyes were fixed on the Britons. A loud flourish
of trumpets was heard, the English mounted officers dashed towards the