In either case he is lost, and so are we.

Let us, therefore, fly, fly, as long as there is still time." Cornelius de Witt, raising himself on his couch, and grasping the hand of his brother, who shuddered at the touch of his linen bandages, replied,-- "Do not I know my godson?
have not I been enabled to read every thought in Van Baerle's mind, and every sentiment in his heart?
You ask whether he is strong or weak.

He is neither the one nor the other; but that is not now the question.

The principal point is, that he is sure not to divulge the secret, for the very good reason that he does not know it himself." John turned round in surprise.
"You must know, my dear brother, that I have been trained in the school of that distinguished politician John de Witt; and I repeat to you, that Van Baerle is not aware of the nature and importance of the deposit which I have intrusted to him." "Quick then," cried John, "as there is still time, let us convey to him directions to burn the parcel." "Through whom ?" "Through my servant Craeke, who was to have accompanied us on horseback, and who has entered the prison with me, to assist you downstairs." "Consider well before having those precious documents burnt, John!" "I consider, above all things, that the brothers De Witt must necessarily save their lives, to be able to save their character.

If we are dead, who will defend us?
Who will have fully understood our intentions ?" "You expect, then, that they would kill us if those papers were found ?" John, without answering, pointed with his hand to the square, whence, at that very moment, fierce shouts and savage yells made themselves heard.
"Yes, yes," said Cornelius, "I hear these shouts very plainly, but what is their meaning ?" John opened the window.
"Death to the traitors!" howled the populace.
"Do you hear now, Cornelius ?" "To the traitors! that means us!" said the prisoner, raising his eyes to heaven and shrugging his shoulders.
"Yes, it means us," repeated John.
"Where is Craeke ?" "At the door of your cell, I suppose." "Let him enter then." John opened the door; the faithful servant was waiting on the threshold.
"Come in, Craeke, and mind well what my brother will tell you." "No, John; it will not suffice to send a verbal message; unfortunately, I shall be obliged to write." "And why that ?" "Because Van Baerle will neither give up the parcel nor burn it without a special command to do so." "But will you be able to write, poor old fellow ?" John asked, with a look on the scorched and bruised hands of the unfortunate sufferer.
"If I had pen and ink you would soon see," said Cornelius.
"Here is a pencil, at any rate." "Have you any paper?
for they have left me nothing." "Here, take this Bible, and tear out the fly-leaf." "Very well, that will do." "But your writing will be illegible." "Just leave me alone for that," said Cornelius.