The others all gave their assent--hastily now, for again that gentle tapping was heard against the window-pane, only rather more firmly, more urgently this time. But no one went to the window to see what the tapping meant; obviously the faithful watcher outside scented some still hidden danger. The Prince at once by rising gave the signal that the conference was at an end. As he did so he handed the packet of papers to Laurence van Rycke who received it on bended knee. "It is a treasure, Messire," said William of Orange earnestly, "which involves the lives of many and even, perhaps, the whole existence of this city. Where will you keep it?" It was Clémence van Rycke who replied: "This room," she said, "is mine own private withdrawing-room; that bureau there hath a wonderful lock which defies the cleverest thief; it contains my most valuable jewels. The papers will be safer there than anywhere." "Let me see you lock them up in there, mevrouw," rejoined the Prince graciously, "I entrust them to you and to Laurence with utmost confidence." Clémence then handed a key to her son and he locked the packet up in the tall bureau of carved and inlaid mahogany and satin-wood which stood in an angle of the narrow room close to the window and opposite to the door. "I am meeting some friends and adherents to-morrow," said William of Orange finally, "at the house of Messire the Procurator-General whom of a truth God will bless for his loyalty--and I pray you, seigniors, as many of you as can do so to meet me there at this same hour. But should we not meet again, do you understand all that you have to do?" The men nodded in silence, whereupon the Prince took formal leave of them and of his host and hostess. He said kind and grateful words to Clémence van Rycke, who, with tears in her eyes, kissed the gracious hand which was held out to her. She then escorted her noble guest out of the room and across the dining-hall, the others following closely behind. All were treading as noiselessly as they could. The door which gave from the dining-room on the hall and staircase beyond was wide open: the room itself was in absolute darkness, and only a tiny light flickered in the hall, which made the shadows round corners and in recesses appear all the more dense. "Will your Highness grope your way to the front door," whispered Clémence van Rycke, "or shall my son bring a lanthorn to guide you?" "No, no," said William of Orange hurriedly, "that small light yonder is quite sufficient. I can see my way, and we must try not to wake your hall-porter." "Oh! nothing will rouse him save a very severe shaking, and the bolts and bars have been left undone, as my husband will be coming home late to-night."