full speed through the village to the southward. Should they be discovered, they would not only run the risk of being shot at, but would expose the landlord to punishment for having entertained them. Looking back, they could see no one following, and hoped, therefore, that they had escaped observation, while their horses, refreshed, made up for the short delay by getting on at full speed. They soon passed the village of Bleiswijk, between which and the next place ran a broad causeway forming the high road to Rotterdam. Though the gloom of evening was increasing, there was still sufficient light to enable them to see objects at some distance. Berthold, who knew the road best, was leading, when suddenly he reined in his horse, and made a sign with his right hand for his companion to do the same.

“See, just coming from the right, are a score of horsemen; they may be Hollanders, or Free Lances, though from the height of their helmets they look more like Spaniards,” he exclaimed. “We had better avoid them.”

“How is that to be done?” asked Captain Van der Elst.

“We passed just now on the left a narrow dyke, which runs, I know, in a south-westerly direction; at the farther end is a bridge which leads across the Rotte. If we are pursued, we must leave the road and ride across the country. We can without difficulty swim the river, when the Spaniards, with the heavy trappings of their horses, would not be able to follow.”

Scarcely had Berthold said this when they could see against the sky the figures of a large number of horsemen moving along a road to the right.

“We might even now, by dismounting, lead our horses down into the plain, and perhaps escape observation,” said Berthold.

“No, no, as we can see them they must have discovered us,” said the captain. “Lead the way across the dyke you spoke of; I will follow closely at your heels.”

As there was no time for further deliberation, Berthold, turning his horse’s head and passing the captain, galloped along the way they had come for a few minutes and then turned off along the top of the dyke he had described. The moment they turned they heard shouts, evidently coming from the horsemen they wished to avoid.

“Those are Spanish voices,” said the captain. “I know them well. Push on, Berthold!” But the road along the top of the dyke was much rougher than the one they had left, and it made it necessary for them to keep a careful hand on 

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