"Do not weep for me!" she said to her beloved mistress. "Old Lysken is too feeble to smooth her lady's hair or to make the frocks for the child. She is worn out. There will be one less mouth to feed, one less to drain your scanty hoard. I shall soon be in that city where the inhabitant shall never say 'I am sick,' or 'I am hungry.' You should rejoice and not weep!"
And little Elizabeth! The rounded cheeks grew painfully hollow, the blue eyes were sunken, and one morning she could not be awakened to the dreary noises of earth. This pure white lily had floated to the sands of the eternal shore.
The watchman in the tower brought the news that the fleet had reached the Land Scheiding, a dyke within five miles of Leyden, but at this point its progress was arrested.
The famished crowd who waited for tidings gave a cry of execration at this announcement. Then they went to the house of the Burgomaster, Adrian Van der Werf, and demanded that he should surrender.
The Burgomaster came to the door in response to this appeal. He was a gaunt, wasted man, but there was a look of dauntless courage in his eyes.
"Friends," he said, "my life is at your disposal. Take my sword, plunge it into my body, and divide my flesh among you. I can die but once, and whether by your hand or by God's hand I care not.
