The sailor nodded back.

He would never have denied her, Walter thought.

Mrs. Goremest happened to see the new arrival; and, from the way she greeted him, he seemed to be a frequent visitor to her place:

"h.e.l.lo, Klaas. Are you there too? You're out of breath, aren't you?"

She gave orders to let him through, and even came out a few steps and helped open up the way for him.

Thus it happened that Klaas Verlaan found standing-room at the counter not far from Walter.

"Well, they've made the most of you!"

He saw it the same way. He was never certain of a moment's recreation before bedtime. Walter, as well as the girl who still maintained her elevated position in the corner, agreed with the bar-woman's verdict.

"Had a good day?" continued the woman. "It was bad about the boat-race."

Klaas placed his finger on his mouth, as if he were going to tell her a secret. He wanted to tell of an adventure with Princess Erika.

"A gla.s.s of corn?" translated the bar-woman, but without guessing the right thing.

"Half and half?"

"Nor that either."

"Red?"

This time Klaas was particularly dainty and hard to please. He declined regularly whatever she suggested and continued to exert himself to draw her into a more confidential talk. He had had the pleasure of pulling Princess Erika out of the water.

On the outside they were still singing, "Amour a la plus belle."

"The devil take those Welsh songs!" cried one of the drinkers. "We are Dutchmen forever!"

"Yes, we are Dutchman forever----"

"And our prince----"

"Sh!"

"I will sing what I please; and, if anybody doesn't want to sing"--he struck himself on the chest, and the whole party was Dutch and enthusiastic over royalty. "Our Prince" was sung l.u.s.tily, and to a finish.

"Hurrah!"

"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"

"Yes, when we were still true Dutchmen----"

"And under the republic!"

"Long live the republic!"

"You all ought to have seen a yacht-race then."

"And our prince----"

"Under the republic all men were equal."

"Equal. No difference at all."

"Down with the tyrants!"

"They're not a bit better than we are!"

"They suck the life out of the people."

"Yes, they bleed us."

"And why? Because you're all cowardly dogs."

"Yes, they're all cowardly dogs."

"You put your necks under the yoke."

"Whenever a king comes around, or an emperor, or a prince, then all of you are so frightened you tremble like an aspen leaf."

"Yes, like an aspen leaf!"

"If you fellows were----"

"All men are born free."

"Yes, we were born free and equal."

"And true Dutch hearts--what say you, Mrs. Goremest? What do you think, that's a daughter of M'neer----"

The name died on the speaker's lips. He became pale.

"A daughter of M'neer----!"

"Certainly. Ask Verlaan."

Verlaan nodded.

"Is that so, Klaas? Really and truly? Why then does she stand there dressed that way--like an ordinary girl?"

"Oh, those clothes came from my Gertie, you know. Rich people have----"

"Come, boys, we must go home now. Mother Goremest needs sleep, too. We are not made of iron; we are flesh and blood."