have grown old so fast these last few years. I am Jacob Vermer, your father's butler.”
“You are welcome,” said the young man, eagerly grasping the hand of the old servant. “Now I shall hear from my friends. Are they well?”
“This packet will explain everything to you, sir,” replied the butler evasively.
Forebodings of evil tidings paled the officer’s cheek. Bidding the guard give the butler some refreshments, the young man excused himself and hastened to his own room to peruse the contents of the packet. There were two letters, one from his friend, Conrad Chenoweth, and the other from his father. He read the latter one first. It was as follows:
“My dear son:
“When you receive this communication I shall be no more. To-morrow I am to be executed like a common criminal, by the order of Alva’s Blood Council. I, the Burgomaster of Antwerp, a loyal citizen and a sincere Catholic, to die like a felon—the thought is intolerable. I had hoped that your service to the State would save me from such a terrible doom, but this is the way Philip rewards his loyal subjects. Your mother died a few weeks ago of a broken heart. Hilvardine has been abducted, and is either in the hands of the ruthless Chancellor of Brabant or in the grasp of the Inquisition.
