Ned had been all night at work assisting the governor. He had now laid aside his ordinary attire, and was clad in complete armour. He was not there to fight; but there was clearly nothing else to do, unless indeed he made his escape at once to the fleet of the Prince of Orange, which was lying in the river. This he did not like doing until it was clear that all was lost. He had seen the Dutch burghers beat back the most desperate assaults of the Spanish troops, and assuredly the Walloons and Germans, who, without counting the burghers, considerably exceeded the force of the enemy, ought to be able to do the same. Just before daybreak he made his way down to the quays, ascertained the exact position of the fleet, and determined how he had best get on board. He chose a small boat from among those lying at the quay, and removed it to the foot of some stairs by a bridge. He fastened the head rope to a ring and pushed the boat off, so that it lay under the bridge, concealed from the sight of any who might pass along the wharves. Having thus prepared for his own safety, he was making his way to rejoin the governor when a woman came out from a house in a quiet street. As she met him he started. "Why, Magdalene!" he exclaimed, "is it you? What are you doing in Antwerp? Is the countess here?" The woman looked at him in surprise. "Don't you remember me, Magdalene? the boy you dressed up as a girl at Brussels, and whom you last saw at Maastricht?" "Bless me!" the old servant exclaimed, "is it you, sir? I should never have known you again." "Three years make a great deal of difference," Ned laughed; "and it is more than that now since we last met." "Please to come in, sir; the countess will be right glad to see you, and so will Miss Gertrude. They have talked of you hundreds of times, and wondered what had become of you." She opened the door again with the great key, and led the way into the house. "Mistress," she said, showing the way into the parlour, "here is a visitor for you." The countess and her daughter had, like every one else in Antwerp, been up all night, and rose from her seat by the fire as the young officer entered. He took off his helmet and bowed deeply. "What is your business with me?" the countess asked, seeing that he did not speak. "I have not come exactly upon business, countess," he replied, "but to thank you for past kindnesses." "Mother, it is the English boy!" exclaimed the young lady sitting upon the side of the fire, rising from her seat. "Surely, sir, you are Master Edward Martin?" "Your eyes are not in fault, Fraulein. I am Edward Martin."