Chapter XLVIII

In which there is a great deal of correspondence, and the widow is called up very early in the morning.

We must now return to Mynheer Krause, who, after he had delivered over his gold, locked up his counting-house and went up to the saloon, determining to meet his fate with all the dignity of a Roman senator. He sent for his daughter, who sent word back that she was packing up her wardrobe, and this answer appeared but reasonable to the syndic, who, therefore, continued in his chair, reflecting upon his approaching incarceration, conning speeches, and anticipating a glorious acquittal, until the bell of the cathedral chimed the half-hour after ten. He then sent another message to his daughter, and the reply was that she was not in the room, upon which he despatched old Koop to Ramsay, requesting his attendance. The reply to this second message was a letter presented to the syndic, who broke the seal and read as follows:

"MY DEAR AND HONOURED SIR,

"I have sought a proper asylum for your daughter during the
impending troubles, and could not find one which pleased, and
in consequence I have taken the bold step, aware that I might
not have received your sanction if applied for, of taking her
on board the cutter with me; she will there be safe, and as
her character might be, to a certain degree, impeached by
being in company with a man of my age, I intend, as soon as
we arrive in port, to unite myself to her, for which act, I
trust, you will grant me your pardon. As for yourself, be
under no apprehension, I have saved you. Treat the
accusation with scorn, and if you are admitted into the
presence of his Majesty, accuse him of the ingratitude which
he has been guilty of; I trust that we shall soon meet again,
that I may return to you the securities and specie of which I
have charge, as well as your daughter, who is anxious once
more to receive your blessing.

"Yours ever, till death,

"EDWARD RAMSAY."

Mynheer Krause read this letter over and over again, it was very mystifying. Much depends in this world upon the humour people are in at the time; Mynheer Krause was, at that time, full of Cato-like devotion and Roman virtue, and he took the contents of the letter in true Catonic style.

"Excellent young man--to preserve my honour he has taken her away with him! and, to preserve her reputation he intends to marry her! Now, I can go to prison without a sigh. He tells me that he has saved me--saved me!--why, he has saved everything; me, my daughter, and my property! Well, they shall see how I behave! They shall witness the calmness of a stoic; I shall express no emotion or surprise at the arrest, as they will naturally expect, because I know it is to take place--no fear--no agitation when in prison, because I know that I am to be saved. I shall desire them to bear in mind that I am the syndic of this town, and must receive that respect which is due to my exalted situation," and Mynheer Van Krause lifted his pipe and ordered Koop to bring him a stone jug of beer, and thus doubly-armed like Cato, he awaited the arrival of the officer with all the stoicism of beer and tobacco.

About the same hour of night that the letter was put into the hands of Mynheer Krause, a packet was brought up to Lord Albemarle, who was playing a game of put with his Grace the Duke of Portland; at that time put was a most fashionable game; but games are like garments, as they become old they are cast off, and handed down to the servants. The outside of the despatch was marked "To Lord Albemarle's own hands. Immediate and most important." It appeared, however, as if the two noble lords considered the game of put as more important and immediate, for they finished it without looking at the packet in question, and it was midnight before they threw up the cards. After which, Lord Albemarle went to a side table, apart from the rest of the company, and broke the seals. It was a letter with enclosures, and ran as follows:

"MY LORD ALBEMARLE,

"Although your political enemy, I do justice to your merits,
and to prove my opinion of you, address to you this letter,
the object of which is to save your government from the
disgrace of injuring a worthy man, and a staunch supporter,
to expose the villany of a coward and a scoundrel. When I
state that my name is Ramsay, you may at once be satisfied
that, before this comes to your hands, I am out of your
reach. I came here in the king's cutter, commanded by Mr
Vanslyperken, with letters of recommendation to Mynheer
Krause, which represented me as a staunch adherent of William
of Orange and a Protestant, and, with that impression, I was
well received, and took up my abode in his house. My object
you may imagine, but fortune favoured me still more, in
having in my power Lieutenant Vanslyperken. I opened the
government despatches in his presence, and supplied him with
false seals to enable him to do the same, and give me the
extracts which were of importance, for which I hardly need
say he was most liberally rewarded; this has been carried on
for some time, but it appears, that in showing him how to
obtain your secrets, I also showed him how to possess himself
of ours, and the consequence has been that he has turned
double traitor, and I have now narrowly escaped.

"The information possessed by Mynheer Krause was given by
me, to win his favour for one simple reason, that I fell in
love with his daughter, who has now quitted the country with
me. He never was undeceived as to my real position, nor is he
even now. Let me do an honest man justice. I enclose you the
extracts from your duplicates made by Mr Vanslyperken,
written in his own hand, which I trust will satisfy you as to
his perfidy, and induce you to believe in the innocence of
the worthy syndic from the assurance of a man, who, although
a Catholic, a Jacobite, and if you please an attainted
traitor, is incapable of telling you a falsehood. I am, my
lord, with every respect for your noble character.

"Yours most obediently,

"EDWARD RAMSAY."

"This is corroborative of my suspicions," said Lord Albemarle, putting down the papers before the Duke of Portland.

The duke read the letter and examined the enclosures.

"Shall we see the king to-night?"

"No, he is retired, and it is of no use, they are in prison by this time; we will wait the report to-morrow morning--ascertain how many have been secured--and then lay these documents before his Majesty."

Leaving the two noble lords to go to bed, we shall now return to Amsterdam at twelve o'clock at night precisely; as the bell tolled, a loud knock was heard at the syndic's house. Koop, who had been ordered by his master to remain up, immediately opened the door, and a _posse comitatus_ of civil power filled the yard.

"Where is Mynheer Krause?" inquired the chief in authority.

"Mynheer, the syndic, is upstairs in the saloon."

Without sending up his name, the officer went up, followed by three or four others, and found Mynheer Krause smoking his pipe.

"Ah, my very particular friend, Mynheer Engelback, what brings you here at this late hour with all your people? Is there a fire in the town?"

"No, Mynheer Syndic. It is an order I am very sorry to say to arrest you, and conduct you to prison."

"Arrest and conduct me to prison--me the syndic of the town--that is strange--will you allow me to see your warrant--yes, it is all true and countersigned by his Majesty; I have no more to say, Mynheer Engelback. As syndic of this town, and administrator of the laws, it is my duty to set the example of obedience to them, at the same time protesting my entire innocence. Koop, get me my mantle. Mynheer Engelback, I claim to be treated with the respect due to me, as syndic of this town."

The officers were not a little staggered at the coolness and _sang froid_ of Mynheer Krause, he had never appeared to so much advantage; they bowed respectfully as he finished his speech.

"I believe, Mynheer Krause, that you have some friends staying with you?"

"I have no friend in the house except my very particular friend, Mynheer Engelback," replied the syndic.

"You must excuse us, but we must search the house."

"You have his Majesty's warrant so to do, and no excuse is necessary."

After a diligent search of half an hour, nobody was found in the house, and the officers began to suspect that the government had been imposed upon. Mynheer Krause, with every mark of attention and respect, was then walked off to the Hotel de Ville, where he remained in custody, for it was not considered right by the authorities, that the syndic should be thrown into the common prison upon suspicion only. When he arrived there, Mynheer Krause surprised them all by the philosophy with which he smoked his pipe.

But, although there was nobody to be found, except the syndic in the syndic's house, and not a soul at the house inhabited by the Jesuit, there was one more person included in the warrant, which was the widow Vandersloosh; for Lord Albemarle, although convinced in his own mind of her innocence, could not take upon himself to interfere with the decisions of the council; so, about one o'clock, there was a loud knocking at the widow's door, which was repeated again and again before it awoke the widow, who was fatigued with her long and hot journey to the Hague. As for Babette, she made a rule never to wake at anything, but the magical No. 6, sounded by the church clock, or by her mistress's voice.

"Babette," cried the widow Vandersloosh, "Babette."

"Yes, ma'am."

"There's a knock at the door, Babette."

"Only some drunken sailors, ma'am--they go away when they find they cannot get in."

Here the peals were redoubled.

"Babette, get up, Babette--and threaten them with the watch."

"Yes, ma'am," replied Babette, with a terrible yawn.

Knocking and thumping with strokes louder than before.

"Babette, Babette!"

"I must put something on, ma'am," replied Babette, rather crossly.

"Speak to them out of the window, Babette."

Here poor Babette came down to the first floor, and opening the window at the landing-place on the stairs, put her head out and cried,

"If you don't go away, you drunken fellows, my mistress will send for the watch."

"If you don't come down and open the door, we shall break it open," replied the officer sent to the duty.

"Tell them it's no inn, Babette, we won't let people in after hours," cried the widow, turning in her bed and anxious to resume her sound sleep.

Babette gave the message and shut down the window.

"Break open the door," cried the officer to his attendants. In a minute or two the door was burst open, and the party ascended the staircase.

"Mercy on me! Babette, if they arn't come in," cried the widow, who jumped out of her bed, and nearly shutting her door, which had been left open for ventilation, she peeped out to see who were the bold intruders; she perceived a man in black with a white staff.

"What do you want?" screamed the widow, terrified.

"We want Mistress Vandersloosh. Are you that person?" said the officer.

"To be be sure I am. But what do you want here?"

"I must request you to dress and come along with me directly to the Stadt House," replied the officer, very civilly.

"Gott in himmel! what's the matter?"

"It's on a charge of treasonable practices, madam."

"Oh, ho! I see: Mr Vanslyperken. Very well, good sir; I'll put on my clothes directly. I'll get up any hour in the night, with pleasure, to bring that villain--. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see. Babette, take the gentleman down in the parlour, and give them some bottled beer. You'll find it very good, sirs; it's of my own brewing. And Babette, you must come up and help me."

The officer did not think it necessary to undeceive the widow, who imagined that she was to give evidence against Vanslyperken, not that she was a prisoner herself. Still, the widow Vandersloosh did not like being called up at such an unseasonable hour, and thus expressed herself to Babette as she was dressing herself.

"Well, we shall see the ending of this, Babette.--My under petticoat is on the chair.--I told the lords the whole truth, every word of it; and I am convinced that they believed me, too.--Don't pull tight all at once, Babette; how often do I tell you that. I do believe you missed a hole.--The cunning villain goes there and says that I--yes, Babette--that I was a traitor myself; and I said to the lords, 'Do I look like a traitor?'--My petticoats, Babette; how stupid you are, why, your eyes are half shut now; you know I always wear the blue first, then the green, and the red last, and yet you will give me the first which comes.--He's a handsome lord, that Duke of Portland; he was one of the _bon_--before King William went over and conquered England, and he was made a lord for his valour.--My ruff, Babette. The Dutch are a brave nation.--My bustle now.--How much beer did you give the officers? Mind you take care of everything while I am gone. I shall be home by nine, I dare say. I suppose they are going to try him now, that he may be hanged at sunrise. I knew how it would be. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken, every dog has his day; and there's an end of you, and of your cur also, I've a notion."

The widow being now duly equipped, walked down stairs to them, and proceeded with the officers to the Stadt House. She was brought into the presence of Mynheer Engelback, who held the office of provost.

"Here is the widow Vandersloosh, mynheer."

"Very well," replied Engelback, who was in a very bad humour at the unsuccessful search after the conspirators, "away with her."

"Away! where?" exclaimed the widow.

Engelback did not condescend to make a reply. The officers were mute; but one stout man on either side seized her arm and led her away, notwithstanding expostulation, and some resistance on her part.

"Where am I going? what is all this?" exclaimed the, widow, terrified; but there was no answer.

At last they came to a door, held open already by another man with a bunch of keys. The terrified woman perceived that it was a paved stone cell, with a brick arch over it; in short, a dungeon. The truth flashed upon her, for the first time. It was she who had been arrested for treason. But before she could shriek she was shoved in, and the door closed and locked upon her; and the widow sank down into a sitting posture on the ground, overcome with astonishment and indignation. "Was it possible? Had the villain prevailed?" was the question, which she asked herself over and over again, changing alternately from sorrow to indignation: at one time wringing her hands, and at others exclaiming, "Well, well, Mr Vanslyperken, we shall see."