Parma's victorious standard, however, which I had been carrying, was captured by the enemy! It bore an embroidered figure of Christ with the motto: Hic fortium dividet spolia or He will apportion the spoils to the bravest. My honour as a soldier was lost. The following day the golden chain Don Felipe had given me in token of my sterling service was torn from off my neck, another more fortunate inherited my post and I was allowed to lose myself in the ranks as an ordinary mercenary. I changed my name and re-enlisted in a German regiment. Overnight I became grey and bent and assumed the rank of captain again under my new name and so I am your subordinate, commander, and your comrade, gentlemen. Don't turn away from me!" The commander of Fort Liefkenhoek reached out his hand to the storyteller and shook it warmly in silence; the other soldiers present pressed forward to reach out their hands to him too. "Enough!" said the veteran. "What difference does it make, for it all comes down to the same in the end. I have witnessed the eclipse of many reputations and much honour and fame. King Philip the Second sleeps in the Escorial, the great prince Alexander Farnese lies in Parma. Where is Fernando Alvarez de Toledo now? Where is our redoubtable enemy, William the Silent?" "Quo pius Aeneas, quo divus Tullus et Ancus? Where is god-fearing Aeneas? Where are the divine Tullus and Ancus?" laughed a young ensign, who was fresh out of upper school in Salamanca; but no-one paid attention to him, and Captain Jeronimo continued. "Enough, comrades. Let each man do his duty and think himself an honest man. Let the company stand easy, mi coronel, or we'll all be down with red dysentery tomorrow. That nasty business down there on the estuary has been put an end to now--and His Catholic Majesty Philip the Third and his Genoese Excellency, Signor Federigo Spinola, have one good ship less. Let us go to bed, colonel, and tomorrow you can find out more details." "Is that what you think, prophet of doom? Your terrible misfortune has sapped your courage. Pull yourself together, Jeronimo." The captain just shrugged his shoulders. "Well, so be it then," said the colonel. "Give the signal to leave the walls. Afterwards I'll expect you all to come to my quarters, gentlemen, for a glass of wine. None of you will be getting any sleep tonight. Have courage, gentlemen, and long live Spain!" The officers repeated their commander's last words, but somewhat mutedly. Then the drums beat the retreat and the troops withdrew from the walls of Fort Liefkenhoek. The commander himself held back for a while and, sighing, leant his elbows on the parapet, cupping his chin in his hands. He stared out in this wise over the waters and gazed at the night and murmured: