In this collapsed state was the windy demagogue, who had filled half Flanders with his sound and fury, conveyed before the patriot Prince.  He met with grave and bitter rebukes, but felt sufficiently relieved when allowed to depart unharmed.  Judging of his probable doom by the usual practice of himself and his fellows in similar cases, he had anticipated nothing short of the gibbet.  That punishment, however, was to be inflicted at a later period, by other hands, and not until he had added treason to his country and a shameless recantation of all his violent professions in favor of civil and religious liberty to the list of his crimes.  On the present occasion he was permitted to go free.  In company with his clerical companion, Peter Dathenus, he fled to the abode of his excellent friend, John Casimir, who received both with open arms, and allowed them each a pension.

Order being thus again restored in Ghent by the exertions of the Prince, when no other human hand could have dispelled the anarchy which seemed to reign supreme, William the Silent, having accepted the government of Flanders, which had again and again been urged upon him, now returned to Antwerp.

CHAPTER III.

The Cologne conferences—­Intentions of the parties—­Preliminary attempt by government to purchase the Prince of Orange—­Offer and rejection of various articles among the plenipotentiaries—­Departure of the imperial commissionere—­Ultimatum of the States compared with that of the royal government—­Barren negotiations terminated—­ Treason of De Bours, Governor of Mechlin—­Liberal theories concerning the nature of government—­Abjuration of Philip imminent—­ Self-denial of Orange—­Attitude of Germany—­of England—­Marriage negotiations between Elizabeth and Anjou—­Orange favors the election of the Duke as sovereign—­Address and speeches of the Prince—­ Parsimony and interprovincial jealousy rebuked——­Secret correspondence of Count Renneberg with the royal government—­ His treason at Groningen.

Since the beginning of May, the Cologne negotiations had been dragging their slow length along.  Few persons believed that any good was likely to result from these stately and ponderous conferences; yet men were so weary of war, so desirous that a termination might be put to the atrophy under which the country was languishing, that many an eager glance was turned towards the place where the august assembly was holding its protracted session.  Certainly, if wisdom were to be found in mitred heads—­if the power to heal angry passions and to settle the conflicting claims of prerogative and conscience were to be looked for among men of lofty station, then the Cologne conferences ought to have made the rough places smooth and the crooked paths straight throughout all Christendom.  There was the Archbishop of Rossano, afterwards Pope Urban VII, as plenipotentiary from Rome; there was Charles of Aragon, Duke of Terranova, supported by