took their leave of the stadholder, and returned to the Hague.

Two months passed. It was midsummer, and the famine in the beleaguered
town had become horrible. The same hideous spectacle was exhibited as on
all occasions where thousands of human beings are penned together without
food. They ate dogs, cats, and rats, the weeds from the churchyards, old
saddles, and old shoes, and, when all was gone, they began to eat each
other. The small children diminished rapidly in numbers, while beacons
and signals of distress were fired day and night, that the obdurate
Spinola, only a few miles off, might at last move to their relief.

The archdukes too were beginning to doubt whether the bargain were a
good one. To give a strong, new, well-fortified city, with the best of
harbours, in exchange for a heap of rubbish which had once been Ostend,
seemed unthrifty enough. Moreover, they had not got Ostend, while sure
to lose Sluys. At least the cardinal could no longer afford to dispense
with the service of his beat corps of veterans who had demanded their
wages so insolently, and who had laughed at his offer of excommunication
by way of payment so heartily. Flinging away his pride, he accordingly
made a treaty with the mutinous "squadron" at Grave, granting an entire
pardon for all their offences, and promising full payment of their
arrears. Until funds should be collected sufficient for this purpose,
they were to receive twelve stivers a day each foot-soldier, and twenty-
four stivers each cavalryman, and were to have the city of Roermond in
pledge. The treaty was negotiated by Guerrera, commandant of Ghent
citadel, and by the Archbishop of Roermond, while three distinguished
hostages were placed in the keeping of the mutineers until the contract
should be faithfully executed: Guerrera himself, Count Fontenoy, son of
Marquis d'Havre, and Avalos, commander of a Spanish legion. Thus, after
making a present of the services of these veterans for a twelvemonth to