The Burgomasters Wife | Page 9

both."
The child rose, and the old servant said, "You are a good boy, Adrian."
"Do you think so?" he asked, all the sins of the forenoon returning to
his mind.
But unluckily they caused him no repentance; on the contrary, his eyes
began to sparkle mischievously, and a smile hovered around his lips, as
he patted the old woman's shoulder, whispering softly in her ear:
"The hair flew to-day, Trautchen. My doublet and new stockings are
lying up in my room under the bed. Nobody can mend as well as you."
Trautchen shook her finger at him, but he turned hastily back and ran
towards the Zyl-gate, this time to lead the Spaniards against the
Netherlanders.
CHAPTER III.
The burgomaster had pressed the nobleman to sit down in the
study-chair, while he himself leaned in a half-sitting attitude on the
writing-table, listening somewhat impatiently to his distinguished
guest.
"Before speaking of more important things," Herr Matanesse Van
Wibisma had begun, "I should like to appeal to you, as a just man, for
some punishment for the injury my son has sustained in this city."
"Speak," said the burgomaster, and the nobleman now briefly, and with

unconcealed indignation, related the story of the attack upon his son at
the church.
"I'll inform the rector of the annoying incident," replied Van der Werff,
"and the culprits will receive their just dues; but pardon me, noble sir, if
I ask whether any inquiry has been made concerning the cause of the
quarrel?"
Herr Matanesse Van Wibisma looked at the burgomaster in surprise
and answered proudly:
"You know my son's report."
"Both sides must be fairly heard," replied Van der Werff calmly. "That
has been the custom of the Netherlands from ancient times."
"My son bears my name and speaks the truth."
"Our boys are called simply Leendert or Adrian or Gerrit, but they do
the same, so I must beg you to send the young gentleman to the
examination at the school."
"By no means," answered the knight resolutely. "If I had thought the
matter belonged to the rector's department, I should have sought him
and not you, Herr Peter. My son has his own tutor, and was not
attacked in your school, which in any case he has outgrown, for he is
seventeen, but in the public street, whose security it is the
burgomaster's duty to guard."
"Very well then, make your complaint, take the youth before the judges,
summon witnesses and let the law follow its course. But, sir,"
continued Van der Werff, softening the impatience in his voice, "were
you not young yourself once? Have you entirely forgotten the fights
under the citadel? What pleasure will it afford you, if we lock up a few
thoughtless lads for two days this sunny weather? The scamps will find
something amusing to do indoors, as well as out, and only the parents
will be punished."

The last words were uttered so cordially and pleasantly, that they could
not fail to have their effect upon the baron. He was a handsome man,
whose refined, agreeable features, of the true Netherland type,
expressed anything rather than severity.
"If you speak to me in this tone, we shall come to an agreement more
easily," he answered, smiling. "I will only say this. Had the brawl
arisen in sport, or from some boyish quarrel, I wouldn't have wasted a
word on the matter--but that children already venture to assail with
jeers and violence those who hold different opinions, ought not to be
permitted to pass without reproof. The boys shouted after my son the
absurd word--"
"It is certainly an insult," interrupted Van der Werff, "a very
disagreeable name, that our people bestow on the enemies of their
liberty."
The baron rose, angrily confronting the other.
"Who tells you," he cried, striking his broad breast, padded with silken
puffs, "who tells you that we grudge Holland her liberty? We desire,
just as earnestly as you, to win it back to the States, but by other,
straighter paths than Orange--"
"I cannot test here whether your paths are crooked or straight," retorted
Van der Werff; "but I do know this--they are labyrinths."
"They will lead to the heart of Philip, our king and yours."
"Yes, if he only had what we in Holland call a heart," replied the other,
smiling bitterly; but Wibisma threw his head back vehemently,
exclaiming reproachfully:
"Sir Burgomaster, you are speaking of the anointed Prince to whom I
have sworn fealty."
"Baron Matanesse," replied Van der Werff, in a tone of deep
earnestness, as he drew himself up to his full height, folded his arms,

and looked the nobleman sharply in the eye, "I speak rather of the
tyrant, whose bloody council declared all who bore the Netherland
name, and you among us, criminals worthy