“Is there a drop of anything to drink, sir? for we who are whole are dying with thirst, and it’s cruel to hear the poor wounded fellows beg for water.”

  “You will find both water and spirits in plenty there, sergeant, and you may tell your own story when you arrive at Portsmouth — we shall never contradict you.”

  “The list of killed, wounded, and missing, will tell the story fast enough,” replied the sergeant; “but run up there, my lads, and get some water for these poor fellows. Good bye, sir, and many thanks.”

  “Good bye to you, Sergeant Tanner,” said one of the women in the boat.

  “Nancy Corbett, by all that’s wonderful!” cried the sergeant.

  “I told you so, sergeant — you’ll never lose the name of lady-killer.”

  “Pretty lady-killing,” muttered the sergeant, turning away in a rage. Ramsay took the boats on board, and, as soon as they were cleared, they were towed on shore to the cove by some of the Yungfrau’s men.

  During this time the ladies, as well as the women, had remained aft on deck, Vanslyperken having locked himself up in his cabin; but Sir Robert now ordered his men to force the cabin door, and take Mr Vanslyperken forward on the lower deck. When the door was opened, Vanslyperken was found in his bed more dead than alive: he was pulled out and dragged forward. The ladies were then handed below, and, as soon as the specie had been put down, and the luggage cleared from the upper deck, the women were ordered to go down on the lower deck, and Mr Vanslyperken ordered to be brought up.

  Chapter Fifty Two.

  In which a Great Deal of Loyalty is shown to counterbalance the Treason of Vanslyperken.

  We must not, however, forget the syndic and the widow Vandersloosh, whom we left in confinement at Amsterdam. We left Mynheer Krause smoking his pipe, and showing to those about him how great a great man always proves himself when under adversity. The widow also, had she performed in public, would have been acknowledged to have been a great, woman. She could not but lament the present, for she was on the floor of a dungeon, so she occasionally wrung her hands; but she looked forward to the future, and to better times, not abandoning herself to despair, but comforting, herself with hope, as might have been clearly proved by her constant repetition of these words: “Well, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see.”

  That the night appeared long to both parties is not to be denied, but the longest night will have its end, so long as the world continues to turn round; the consequence was, that the morning came as usual to the syndic, although the widow, from the peculiarity of her situation, had not the same advantage.

  After morning comes breakfast, in the natural order of mundane affairs, and kings, being but men, and subject to the same wants as other mortals, his majesty, King William, sat down, and dispatched a very hasty meal, in company with his Grace the Duke of Portland, and the Right Honourable the Lord Albemarle. History does not record, as it sometimes does in works of this description, by what viands his majesty’s appetite was stimulated; we must therefore pass it over, and, as his majesty did on that occasion, as soon as breakfast was over, proceed to business.

  “Have you received information, my Lord Albemarle, how many of the conspirators have been seized?”

  “May it please your majesty, I am sorry to inform you, that all who were innocent have been imprisoned, and all who were guilty have escaped.”

  Upon this intelligence his majesty looked very grave.

  “How do you mean, my lord?” said he, after a pause.

  “The conspirators have all received some friendly notice, and the only two who are in custody are the syndic, Mynheer Krause, and the woman who keeps the Lust Haus.”

  “And you put the syndic down as an innocent person, my lord!”

  “If your majesty will be pleased to read this communication,” replied Lord Albemarle, presenting Ramsay’s letter and enclosures, “you will then be of my opinion.”

  King William took the letter and read it. “What Ramsay — he who was attainted with Sir Robert Barclay?”

  “The same, your majesty.”

  “So near us, and escaped — but what credence would you place in him?”

  “Every credence, may it please your majesty. I believe him to be incapable of a lie.”

  “A traitor like him!”

  “A traitor to your majesty, but most true to his Catholic majesty, King James that was. But if I venture to point out to your majesty, the enclosures prove that Lieutenant Vanslyperken’s word is not of much value. He, at least, is a double traitor.”

  “Yes, a little hanging will do him no harm — you are sure this is his writing?”

  “There can be no doubt of it, your majesty, I have compared it.”

  “You will see to this, my lord: and now to the syndic.”

  “He has, as your majesty will perceive, been grossly deceived, and suspected without reason.”

  “And the woman—”

  “Was here yesterday, and fully convinced me that Vanslyperken was a traitor, and that she was innocent. His Grace of Portland was present.”

  “Well, my lord, you may give orders for their release; of course a little surveillance will be advisable. You will justify the proceedings to the council this afternoon.”

  “But may I presume to submit to your majesty that the public affront offered to the syndic should be repaired?”

  “Certainly — send for him,” replied his majesty, carelessly. “I will receive him to-morrow morning;” and his majesty left the room.

  Lord Albemarle immediately dispatched a courier with an order for the release of the syndic and the Frau Vandersloosh, with a note to the former, stating that his majesty would receive him on the following day at noon. But while this act of justice had been preparing at the palace of the Hague, there were other acts, not quite so justifiable, performing at the town of Amsterdam.

  The sun made its appearance more than an hour before the troops of the royal guard. Mobs were collected in knots in the street, and in front of the Hotel de Ville, or Stadt House, and the object of their meeting was to canvass the treason and imprisonment of the syndic, Mynheer Van Krause. “Shame — shame,”— “Death to the traitor,”— “Tear him to pieces,” — and “Long life to King William,” were the first solitary remarks made — the noise and hubbub increased. The small knots of people gradually joined together, until they formed a large mob, all burning with loyalty, and each individual wishing to give a practical evidence of it — again were the cries of “Long live the king!” and “Death to traitors!” to be heard, with loud huzzas. A confused din followed, and the mob appeared, as if simultaneously, to be all impelled in one direction. At last the word was given, which they all waited for. “To his house — to his house — down with it — death to the traitor!” and the loyal mob hastened on, each individual eager to be first to prove his loyalty, by helping himself to Mynheer Krause’s goods and chattels.

  In the Low Countries, this species of loyalty always has been and is now very much the fashion. In ten minutes, the gates were forced open — old Koops knocked down, and trod under foot till he was dead — every article of value that was portable was secured; chairs, tables, glasses, not portable, were thrown out of the window; Wilhelmina’s harp and pianoforte battered to fragments; beds, bedding, everything flew about in the air, and then the fragments of the furniture were set fire to, and in less than an hour, Mynheer Krause’s splendid house was burning furiously, while the mob cheered and cried, “Long live King William!”

  Before the courier could arrive from the Hague, all that was left of Mr Krause’s property was the bare walls. Merchandise, everything was consumed, and part of the building had fallen into the canal and choked it up, while fifteen schuyts, waiting to be discharged of their cargoes, had been obliged to retreat from the fury of the flames, the phlegmatic skippers looking on with their pipes in their mouths, and their hands in their wide breeches-pockets.

  The loyal mob, having effected their object, gradually retired. It is singular that popular feeling is always expressed in the same way. Had the mob collected for disloyal purposes, they would have shown their disloyalty just in the like manner, only it would have been the Stadt House instead of that of Mynheer Krause.

  But now there was a fresh impetus given to the feelings of the mob. The news had been spread like wildfire, that Mynheer the syndic had been proved innocent, and ordered to be immediately liberated, and was sent for by his majesty; upon which, the mob were undecided whether they should prove their indignation, at this unjust imprisonment of their worthy magistrate, by setting fire to some public building, or by carrying him in triumph to his own house, which they forgot they had burnt down. Fortunately they decided upon the latter: they surrounded the Stadt House with cries of “Long life to our worthy syndic — prosperity to Mynheer Krause,” and rushing up-stairs, they caught him in their arms, and carried him triumphantly through the streets, bringing him at last to the smoking ruins of his own house, and there they left him; they had done all they could, they had carried him there in triumph, but, as for building the house up again, that was impossible so, as Mynheer Krause looked with dismay at the wreck of all his property, the loyal mob dispersed, each feeling that he had been a little too hasty in possessing himself of a small share of it. What a fine thing is loyalty! Mynheer Krause found himself alone; he looked with scorn and indignation upon the scene of violence, and then walked away to an hotel, particularly disgusted with the loyal cry of “Long live King William.”

  In the meantime, the door of the dungeon where the widow Vandersloosh was incarcerated was thrown open, and she was informed that she was no longer a prisoner. The widow, indignant that she should have been confined for her loyalty raved and walked majestically out of the Stadt House, not deigning to answer to the compliments offered to her by some of the inferior officers. Her bosom swelled with indignation, and she was determined to tell his majesty a bit of her mind, if she should obtain access to him; and the next day she took the trouble to go all the way to the Hague, again to see his majesty; but his majesty wasn’t at home, and Lord Albemarle to whom she sent in, was indisposed, and his Grace the Duke of Portland was particularly engaged; so the widow had the journey for nothing, and she declared to Babette, that she never would put her foot under the palace roof again as long as she lived.

  But, although Madam Vandersloosh was not received at court that day, the syndic Mynheer Krause was; when he sent in his name, Lord Albemarle led the syndic by the hand to his majesty.

  “We have been too hasty, Mynheer Krause,” said his majesty, with a gracious smile.

  Mynheer bowed low.

  “I regret to hear that the populace in their loyalty have burnt down your house, Mr Krause — they were too hasty.”

  Mynheer Krause made another low bow.

  “You will continue your office of syndic of the town of Amsterdam.”

  “Pardon me, your majesty,” replied Mynheer Krause respectfully, but firmly, “I have obeyed your summons to appear in your presence, but will request that your majesty will release me from the burden. I have come to lay my chain and staff of office at your majesty’s feet, it being my intention to quit the town.”

  “You are too hasty, Mynheer Krause,” replied his majesty with displeasure.

  “May it please your majesty,” replied Krause, “he who has been confined as a prisoner in the Stadt House, is not fit to exercise his duties there as a judge. I have served your majesty many years with the utmost zeal and fidelity. In return, I have been imprisoned and my property destroyed. I must now return to a station more suitable to my present condition, and once more, with every assurance of loyalty, I beg to be permitted to lay my insignia of office at your majesty’s feet.”

  Mynheer Krause suited the action to the word. The king frowned and turned away to the window, and Mynheer Krause, perceiving that his majesty’s back was turned upon him, walked out of the door.

  “Too hasty!” thought Mynheer Krause. “I am loyal and thrown into prison, and am expected to be satisfied with the plea of being too hasty. My house is burnt down, and the plundering mob have been too hasty. Well — well — it is fortunate I took Ramsay’s advice: my house and what was in it was a trifle; but if all my gold at Hamburg and Frankfort, and in the charge of Ramsay had been there, and I had been made a beggar, all the satisfaction I should have received would have been a smile, and the excuse of being too hasty. I wonder where my daughter and Ramsay are? I long to join them.”

  From which mental soliloquy, it will be evident to the render, that Mynheer Krause’s loyalty had been considerably diminished, perhaps thinking that he had paid too dear for the commodity.

  Upon his return, Mynheer Krause publicly announced that he had resigned the office of syndic, much to the astonishment of those who heard of it, and much to the delight of his very particular friend Engelback, who, the next morning, set off for the Hague, and had an interview with his Grace the Duke of Portland, the result of which was, that upon grounds best known to the parties, for history will not reveal everything, Mynheer Engelback was recommended to fill the office of syndic of the town of Amsterdam, vacant by the resignation of Mynheer Krause; and that in consequence of this, all those who took off their hats to Mynheer Krause but two days before, and kept them on when they met Mynheer Engelback, now kept them on when they met Mynheer Krause, and pulled them off very politely to Mynheer Krause’s very particular friend, Mynheer Engelback.

  Chapter Fifty Three.

  Trial and Execution of two of the Principal Personages in our History.

  We left Sir Robert Barclay on the deck of the cutter, the ladies and women sent down below, and Mr Vanslyperken on the point of being dragged aft by two of Sir Robert’s men. The crew of the Yungfrau, at the time, were on the lower deck, some assisting the wounded men, others talking with Jemmy Salisbury and his wife, whom they were astonished to find among the assailants.

  “Why, Jemmy, how did you get a berth among those chaps?”

  “I’ll tell you,” said Moggy, interrupting: “when he was last at Portsmouth, they heard him playing his fiddle and singing, and they took such a fancy to him, that they were determined to have him to amuse them in the cave. So one evening, they kidnapped him, took him away by main force, and kept him a prisoner ever since.”

  “That’s carrying the joke rather too far,” observed one of the men.

  “Mein, Gott! yes,” replied the corporal.

  “But I am at liberty again now, at all events,” replied Jemmy, taking the cue from his wife; “and if that chap, Vanslyperken, don’t command the cutter any more, which I’ve a notion he will not, I shall enter as boatswain — heh, Dick?”

  “Yes,” replied Short, who was swinging in his hammock.

  “Well — when I found that Jemmy couldn’t be found, that my dear, darling duck of a husband — my jewel, a box of diamonds, (ar’n’t you, my Jemmy?) didn’t I tear my hair, and run about the streets, like a mad woman,” continued Moggy. “At last I met with Nancy Corbett, whose husband is one of the gang, and she told me where he was, fiddle and all, and I persuaded her to let me go to him, and that’s why we both are here.”

  This was a good intention of Moggy’s, and as there was nobody who took the trouble to disprove it, it was received as not the least apocryphal. But now Mr Vanslyperken was dragged past them by two of the conspirators, and all the men of the Yungfrau followed on deck, to see what was to take place.

  When Mr Vanslyperken had been brought aft, his legs tattered, and he could hardly stand. His face was livid, and his lips white with fear, and he knew too well that he had little mercy to expect.

  “Now, sir,” said Sir Robert, with a stern air, “hear the accusation against you, for, although we may be lawless, we will still be just. You voluntarily entered into our service, and received our pay. You were one of us, with only this difference, that we have taken up the cause from principle and loyalty, and you joined us from mercenary motives. Still, we kept our faith with you; for every service performed, you were well and honourably paid. But you received our money and turned against us; revealed our secrets, and gave information to your Government, by which that gentleman (pointing to Ramsay) and many others, had not they fortunately received timely notice, would have perished by the gibbet. Now, sir, I wish to know what you can bring forward in your defence, what have you to urge that you should not die the death which you so traitorously prepared for others?”

  “Die!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, “no — no — mercy, sir — mercy. I am not fit to die.”

  “Few are: but this is certain — that a villain like you is not fit to live.”

  “On my knees, I ask mercy,” cried the frightened wretch, dropping down. “Mr Ramsay, speak for me.”

  “I will speak,” replied Ramsay, “but not for you. I will show you, that even if you were to escape us, you would still be hung; for, all your extracts of the despatches I have, with full explanation, put into the hands of the English Government. Do you expect mercy from them? — they have not showed much as yet.”

  “O God — O God!” exclaimed Vanslyperken, throwing himself down on the deck in despair.

  “Now, my lads, you have heard the charges against this man, and also that he has no defence to offer; what is your sentence?”

  “Death!” exclaimed the conspirators.

  “You men, belonging to the cutter, you have heard that this man has betrayed the present Government of England, in whose pay and service he was at the time — what is your opinion?”

  Hereupon, Obadiah Coble hitched up his trousers, and said, “Why, as a matter of opinion, I agrees with you, sir, whomsoever you may be.”