wading breast-high through the water from Lammen towards the fleet, while at the same time one solitary boy was seen to wave his cap from the summit of the fort. After a moment of doubt the happy mystery was solved. The Spaniards had fled, panicstruck, during the darkness. Their position would still have enabled them, with firmness, to frustrate the enterprise of the patriots; but the hand of God, which had sent the ocean and the tempest to the deliverance of Leyden, had struck her enemies with terror likewise. The lights which had been seen moving during the night were the lanterns of the retreating Spaniards, and the boy who was now waving his triumphant signal from the battlements had alone witnessed the spectacle. So confident was he in the conclusion to which it led him that he had volunteered at daybreak to go thither all alone. Valdez, flying himself from Leyderdorp, had ordered Colonel Borgia to retire with all his troops from Lammen. Thus the Spaniards had retreated at the very moment that an extraordinary accident had laid bare a whole side of the city for their entrance. The noise of the wall as it fell only inspired them with fresh alarm; for they believed that the citizens had sallied forth in the darkness to aid the advancing flood in the work of destruction. All obstacles being now removed, the fleet of Boisot swept by Lammen, and entered the city on the morning of the 3rd of October. Leyden was relieved! From "History of the Rise of the Dutch Republic," by J. L. MOTLEY. 29. THE FORSAKEN MERMAN. Come, dear children, let us away- Now my brothers call from the bay, Now the great winds shoreward blow, Now the salt tides seaward flow; Now the wild white horses play, Call her once before you go— Call once yet, In a voice that she will know,— "Margaret! Margaret!" Children's voices should be dear "Mother dear, we cannot stay! The wild white horses foam and fret.” Margaret! Margaret ! Come, dear children, come away down; Call no more! One last look at the white-walled town, And the little gray church on the windy shore; Then come down! She will not come though you call all day; Children dear, was it yesterday We heard the sweet bells over the bay? In the caverns where we lay, Through the surf and through the sweli, The far-off sound of a silver bell? Sand strewn caverns, cool and deep, Children dear, was it yesterday (Call yet once) that she went away ? Once she sat with you and me, On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, And the youngest sate on her knee. She combed its bright hair, and she tended it well, When down swung the sound of a far-off bell. She sighed, she looked up through the clear green sea; She said: "I must go, for my kinsfolk pray In the little gray church on the shore to-day. Children dear, were we long alone? "The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan; Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say. Come!" I said; and we rose through the surf in the bay. We went by the beach, by the sandy down Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-walled town; Through the narrow-paved streets, where all was still, To the little gray church on the windy hill. From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers, But we stood without in the cold blowing airs. We climbed on the graves, on the stones worn with rains, And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes. For her eyes were sealed to the holy book! Down, down, down Down to the depths of the sea! She sits at her wheel in the humming town, Singing most joyfully. Hark what she sings: "O joy, O joy, For the humming street and the child with its toy; For the wheel where I spun, And the blessed light of the sun!" And so she sings her fill, Singing most joyfully, Till the spindle drops from her hand, And the whizzing wheel stands still. She steals to the window, and looks at the sand, And over the sand at the sea; And her eyes are set in a stare; A long, long sigh, For the cold, strange eyes of a little mermaiden, Come away, away, children, She will start from her slumber A pavement of pearl Singing: "Here came a mortal, But faithless was she! And alone dwell for ever The kings of the sea. But, children, at midnight, We will gaze from the sand-hills; At the white sleeping town, At the church on the hillside, And then come back down— Singing: "There dwells a loved one, She left lonely for ever The kings of the sea. MATTHEW ARNOLD. |