The people rushed into the prison, with the cry --

"Death to the traitors! To the gallows with Cornelius de
Witt! Death! death!"




Chapter 4

The Murderers


The young man with his hat slouched over his eyes, still
leaning on the arm of the officer, and still wiping from
time to time his brow with his handkerchief, was watching in
a corner of the Buytenhof, in the shade of the overhanging
weather-board of a closed shop, the doings of the infuriated
mob, a spectacle which seemed to draw near its catastrophe.

"Indeed," said he to the officer, "indeed, I think you were
right, Van Deken; the order which the deputies have signed
is truly the death-warrant of Master Cornelius. Do you hear
these people? They certainly bear a sad grudge to the two De
Witts."

"In truth," replied the officer, "I never heard such
shouts."

"They seem to have found out the cell of the man. Look,