Wilhelm soon followed. Henrica accompanied him to the stairs to see Georg once more, but as soon as she heard his voice, turned defiantly away and went back to her sister. The musician found Junker von Dornburg engaged in an eager conversation with Nicolas. "No, no, my boy," said the German cordially, "my way cannot be yours." "I am seventeen years old." "That's not it; you've just confronted me bravely, and you have a man's strength of will--but life ought still to bear flowers for you, if such is God's will--you are going forth to fight sword-in-hand to win a worthy destiny of peace and prosperity, for yourself and your native land, in freedom--but I, I--give me your hand and promise--" "My hand? There it is; but I must refuse the promise. With or without you--I shall go to the Beggars!" Georg gazed at the brave boy in delight, and asked gently: "Is your mother living?" "No." "Then come. We shall probably both find what we seek with the Beggars." Nicolas clasped the hand Georg offered, but Wilhelm approached the Junker, saying: "I expected this from you, after what I saw at St. Peter's church and Quatgelat's tavern." "You first opened my eyes," replied Nicolas. "Now come, we'll go directly through the camp; they all know me." In the road the boy pressed close to Georg, and in answer to his remark that he would be in a hard position towards his father, replied: "I know it, and it causes me such pain--such pain.--But I can't help it. I won't suffer the word 'traitor' to cling to our name." "Your cousin Matanesse, Herr von Riviere, is also devoted to the good cause." "But my father thinks differently. He has the courage to expect good deeds from the Spaniards. From the Spaniards! I've learned to know them during the last few months. A brave lad from Leyden, you knew him probably by his nickname, Lowing, which he really deserved, was captured by them in fair fight, and then--it makes me shudder even now when I think of it--they hung him up head downward, and tortured him to death. I was present, and not one word of theirs escaped my ears. Such ought to be the fate of all Holland, country and people, that was what they wanted. And remarks like these can be heard every day. No abuse of us is too bad for them, and the King thinks like his soldiers. Let some one else endure to be the slave of a master, who tortures and despises us! My holy religion is eternal and indestructible. Even if it is hateful to many of the Beggars, that shall not trouble me--if only they will help break the Spanish chains." Amid such conversation they walked through the Castilian camp, where all lay buried in sleep. Then they reached that of the German troops, and here gay carousing was going on under many a tent. At the end of the encampment a sutler and his wife were collecting together the wares that remained unsold.