CHAPTER XVI.
THE RIOT.
It was a stormy evening. The moisture, which had been rising all day from the river, was now falling in copious showers of rain. The wind howled dismally through the trees, and ever and anon came sounds above the roar of the tempest, which filled the heart with misgiving.
“I wish the Prince could have remained in Antwerp until after the festival of the Assumption,” said Dr. Chenoweth to his wife.
“Do you fear a riot?”
“Yes, Agatha.”
The sounds increased, and hurrying feet sped past the house. The doctor arose, and putting on his cape prepared to go out.
“I must learn the cause of this agitation,” he said. “I will not be gone long.”
The doctor returned in about an hour looking anxious and tired. “If the Catholics persist in holding their festival to-morrow, wife, there will surely be trouble. The air is full of mutterings, which bode no good. It is earthquake weather,
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