The waves of the Scheldt have swallowed up her betrothed, who was impotent to prevent the depraved corruption of his beloved and who had precipitated himself into the river's cold waters so as not to participate in her dishonour. And where is God in all this? Woe is me, the night is too dark and the mind of the unfortunate maiden too disturbed to be able to remember the great Redeemer from all of life's troubles. No power on heaven or on earth can protect her from scandal and disgrace. Poor Myga van Bergen! The clock in the tower of the cathedral chimed eleven, the single chimes succeeding one another slowly and echoing in Myga's mind. The noise of the town gradually diminished again and once again one light after another went out behind the city wall constructed by the Italian civil engineer, Paciotti. The calm grew ever deeper. From time to time, however, wild cries and rejoicing rang out. From time to time too there came the raucous singing of a stray band of soldiers or the cry of a nightwatchman and the "Halt! Who goes there?" of patrols. And once again the clock whirred in the tower of the Cathedral of Our Lady--midnight! Antonio Valani lifted himself up from his pillow and cast about him mad glances from his eyes aglow with fever. "Where is she? Leone, Leone--wine, lights and love! Leone, where are you? Where are you holding her? Where are you keeping her hidden? She's mine, you traitor, you treacherous Leone--the girl belongs to me! Hahaha, I'm not dead like you thought, Leone. I'm alive and holding on to what is mine." Myga van Bergen's forehead was touching the floor of the cabin and Lieutenant della Rota gently pushed the delirious man back onto his bed and tried every way he could to calm him down, but it seemed as if all the strength and feeling of the dying man had to burst out afresh in all their fullness before they faded away forever. Again and again the delirious Antonio tried to escape from the arms of Leone. "All hands on deck. To the oars! To the oars! Long live the king! They're flying their flag--the sea beggars' flag. Fire at it! Fire at it! Eviva Genova! There goes the admiral, blown to kingdom come! Fire! Fire! It's a living hell! Leone, look after the ship. Look after the ship, Leone. It's all over for us. Woe is me. The beggars' flag. Man the guns. All is lost. All is lost. Look after the ship, look after the ship, Leone!" The sick man fell back. The lieutenant straightened his pillow for him. Then he approached the kneeling maiden: