and his profound knowledge of human nature, made him the leading man in the Netherlands.
The other occupant of the carriage was Count Brederode, a middle-aged nobleman, blunt, honest and sour-faced.
“This sight is sickening,” said William to his companion. “Do you know the poor fellow who is about to be executed?”
“It is that apostate priest, Hendricks,” replied the Count. “The Church held out to him the hope of mercy, and the poor wretch recanted. The Church says now that his repentance was nothing short of hypocrisy, and they are going to burn him as a warning to others. The fellow is not worthy of your sympathy, Prince. He is naught but a coward, and richly deserves punishment, although I grant you it comes from unjust hands.”
“Possibly the fellow is a coward, Count,” said William. “It is easy for us to call him names, sitting as we do in perfect safety. Who knows but what we too would be cowards, with the stake before us, and a single word between us and the fire, I am free to confess, I should not like to be subjected to so rigorous a test.”
“Why did Hendricks and scores of others like him apostatize, then?” demanded the Count. “They all know what that word implies. Heretics must not pose as Scævolas, and thrust their hands into the flames, if they intend to draw back when
