which the Imperialists had broken up. I let her take her own way, and
having scraped some soot from the chimney and mixed it with water, I tore
a blank leaf out of _Virgilius_, and wrote to the _Pastor Liepensis_, his
reverence Abraham Tiburtius, praying that for God his sake he would take
our necessities to heart, and would exhort his parishioners to save us
from dying of grim hunger, and charitably to spare to us some meat and
drink, according as the all-merciful God had still left some to them,
seeing that a beggar had told me that they had long been in peace from
the terrible enemy. I knew not, however, wherewithal to seal the letter,
until I found in the church a little wax still sticking to a wooden
altar-candlestick, which the Imperialists had not thought it worth their
while to steal, for they had only taken the brass ones. I sent three
fellows in a boat with Hinrich Seden, the churchwarden, with this letter
to Liepe.

First, however, I asked my old Ilse, who was born in Liepe, whether she
would not rather return home, seeing how matters stood, and that I, for
the present at least, could not give her a stiver of her wages (mark that
she had already saved up a small sum, seeing that she had lived in my
service above twenty years, but the soldiers had taken it all). Howbeit, I
could nowise persuade her to this, but she wept bitterly, and besought me
only to let her stay with the good damsel whom she had rocked in her
cradle. She would cheerfully hunger with us if it needs must be, so that
she were not turned away. Whereupon I yielded to her, and the others went
alone.

Meanwhile the broth was ready, but scarce had we said the _Gratias_, and
were about to begin our meal, when all the children of the village, seven
in number, came to the door, and wanted bread, as they had heard we had
some from my daughter her little godchild. Her heart again melted, and