"That's right," cried the commissioner. "We are driving in a fragile vessel on the high seas. If I had a daughter in the house, I know what I should do. Farewell till we meet again, Meister. How are matters at Alfen? The firing is no longer heard." "Darkness has probably interrupted the battle." "We'll hope for the best news to-morrow, and even if all the men outside succumb, we within the walls will not flinch or yield." "We will hold out firmly to the end," replied Peter resolutely. "To the end, and, if God so wills it, a successful end." "Amen," cried Peter, pressed the commissioner's hand and pursued his way home. Barbara met him on the steps and wanted to call Maria, who was with Henrica; but he forbade it and paced thoughtfully to and fro, his lips often quivering as if he were suffering great pain. When, after some time, he heard his wife's voice in the dining-room, he controlled himself by a violent effort, went to the door, and slowly opened it. "You are at home already, and I sitting quietly here spinning!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Yes, child. Please come in here, I have something to say to you." "For Heaven's sake! Peter, tell me what has happened. How your voice sounds, and how pale you look!" "I'm not ill, but matters are serious, terribly serious, Maria." "Then it is true that the enemy--" They gained great advantage to-day and yesterday, but I beg you, if you love me, don't interrupt me now; what I have to say is no easy thing, it is hard to force the lips to utter it. Where shall I begin? How shall I speak, that you may not misunderstand me? You know, child, I took you into my house from a warm nest. What we could offer was very little, and you had doubtless expected to find more. I know you have not been happy." "But it would be so easy for you to make me so." "You are mistaken, Maria. In these troublous times but one thing claims my thoughts, and whatever diverts them from it is evil. But just now one thing paralyzes my courage and will-anxiety about your fate; for who knows what is impending over us, and therefore it must be said, I must take my heart to the shambles and express a wish.--A wish? Oh, merciful Heaven, is there no other word for what I mean!" "Speak, Peter, speak, and do not torture me!" cried Maria, gazing anxiously into her husband's face. It could be no small matter, that induced the clear-headed, resolute man to utter such confused language. The burgomaster summoned up his courage and began again: