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Page 26
"Do you know," he then said, without stopping, "that those
rascals have killed John de Witt as well as his brother?"
"Alas! Monseigneur," the Captain answered sadly, "I should
like it much better if these two difficulties were still in
your Highness's way of becoming de facto Stadtholder of
Holland."
"Certainly, it would have been better," said William, "if
what did happen had not happened. But it cannot be helped
now, and we have had nothing to do with it. Let us push on,
Captain, that we may arrive at Alphen before the message
which the States-General are sure to send to me to the
camp."
The Captain bowed, allowed the Prince to ride ahead and, for
the remainder of the journey, kept at the same respectful
distance as he had done before his Highness called him to
his side.
"How I should wish," William of Orange malignantly muttered
to himself, with a dark frown and setting the spurs to his
horse, "to see the figure which Louis will cut when he is
apprised of the manner in which his dear friends De Witt
have been served! Oh thou Sun! thou Sun! as truly as I am
called William the Silent, thou Sun, thou hadst best look to
thy rays!"
And the young Prince, the relentless rival of the Great
King, sped away upon his fiery steed, -- this future
Stadtholder who had been but the day before very uncertainly
established in his new power, but for whom the burghers of
the Hague had built a staircase with the bodies of John and
Cornelius, two princes as noble as he in the eyes of God and man.
Chapter 5
The Tulip-fancier and his Neighbour
Whilst the burghers of the Hague were tearing in pieces the
bodies of John and Cornelius de Witt, and whilst William of
Orange, after having made sure that his two antagonists were
really dead, was galloping over the Leyden road, followed by
Captain van Deken, whom he found a little too compassionate
to honour him any longer with his confidence, Craeke, the
faithful servant, mounted on a good horse, and little
suspecting what terrible events had taken place since his
departure, proceeded along the high road lined with trees,
until he was clear of the town and the neighbouring
villages.
Being once safe, he left his horse at a livery stable in
order not to arouse suspicion, and tranquilly continued his
journey on the canal-boats, which conveyed him by easy
stages to Dort, pursuing their way under skilful guidance by
the shortest possible routes through the windings of the
river, which held in its watery embrace so many enchanting
little islands, edged with willows and rushes, and abounding
in luxurious vegetation, whereon flocks of fat sheep browsed
in peaceful sleepiness. Craeke from afar off recognised
Dort, the smiling city, at the foot of a hill dotted with
windmills. He saw the fine red brick houses, mortared in
white lines, standing on the edge of the water, and their
balconies, open towards the river, decked out with silk
tapestry embroidered with gold flowers, the wonderful
manufacture of India and China; and near these brilliant
stuffs, large lines set to catch the voracious eels, which
are attracted towards the houses by the garbage thrown every
day from the kitchens into the river.
Craeke, standing on the deck of the boat, saw, across the
moving sails of the windmills, on the slope of the hill, the
red and pink house which was the goal of his errand. The
outlines of its roof were merging in the yellow foliage of a
curtain of poplar trees, the whole habitation having for
background a dark grove of gigantic elms. The mansion was
situated in such a way that the sun, falling on it as into a
funnel, dried up, warmed, and fertilised the mist which the
verdant screen could not prevent the river wind from
carrying there every morning and evening.
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