"Do you think that I will let you suffer for my carelessness?" he exclaimed. "I have three times sixty guilders in my strong box at home!""Oh, I beg your pardon," said Carl hastily, adding in a surlier tone, "Well, I see no better way than to go back hungry.""I see a better plan than that," said the captain.
"What is it?" cried all the boys.
"Why, to make the best of a bad business and go back pleasantly and like men," said Peter, looking so gallant and handsome as he turned his frank face and clear blue eyes upon them that they caught his spirit.
"Ho for the captain!" they shouted.
"Now, boys, we may as well make up our minds, there's no place like Broek, after all--and that we mean to be there in two hours.
Is that agreed to?"
"Agreed!" cried all as they ran to the canal.
"On with your skates! Are you ready? Here, Jacob, let me help you.""Now. One, two, three, start!"And the boyish faces that left Haarlem at that signal were nearly as bright as those that had entered it with Captain Peter half an hour before.
Hans"Donder and Blixin!" cried Carl angrily, before the party had skated twenty yards from the city gates, "if here isn't that wooden-skate ragamuffin in the patched leather breeches. That fellow is everywhere, confound him! We'll be lucky," he added, in as sneering a tone as he dared to assume, "if our captain doesn't order us to halt and shake hands with him.""Your captain is a terrible fellow," said Peter pleasantly, "but this is a false alarm, Carl. I cannot spy your bugbear anywhere among the skaters. Ah, there he is! Why, what is the matter with the lad?"Poor Hans! His face was pale, his lips compressed. He skated like one under the effects of a fearful dream. Just as he was passing, Peter hailed him:
"Good day, Hans Brinker!"
Hans's countenance brightened at once. "Ah, mynheer, is that you? It is well we meet!""Just like his impertinence," hissed Carl Schummel, darting scornfully past his companions, who seemed inclined to linger with their captain.
"I am glad to see you, Hans," responded Peter cheerfully, "but you look troubled. Can I serve you?""I have a trouble, mynheer," answered Hans, casting down his eyes. Then, lifting them again with almost a happy expression, he added, "But it is Hans who can help Mynheer van Holp THIStime.""How?" asked Peter, ******, in his blunt Dutch way, no attempt to conceal his surprise.
"By giving you THIS, mynheer." And Hans held forth the missing purse.
"Hurrah!" shouted the boys, taking their cold hands from their pockets to wave them joyfully in the air. But Peter said "Thank you, Hans Brinker" in a tone that made Hans feel as if the king had knelt to him.
The shout of the delighted boys had reached the muffled ears of the fine young gentleman who, under a full pressure of pent-up wrath, was skating toward Amsterdam. A Yankee boy would have wheeled about at once and hastened to satisfy his curiosity. But Carl only halted, and, with his back toward his party, wondered what on earth had happened. There he stood, immovable, until, feeling sure that nothing but the prospect of something to eat could have made them hurrah so heartily, he turned and skated slowly toward his excited comrades.
In the meantime Peter had drawn Hans aside from the rest.
"How did you know it was my purse?" he asked.
"You paid me three guilders yesterday, mynheer, for ****** the whitewood chain, telling me that I must buy skates.""Yes, I remember.""I saw your purse then. It was of yellow leather.""And where did you find it today?""I left my home this morning, mynheer, in great trouble, and as I skated, I took no heed until I stumbled against some lumber, and while I was rubbing my knee I saw your purse nearly hidden under a log.""That place! Ah, I remember now. Just as we were passing it Ipulled my tippet from my pocket and probably flipped out the purse at the same time. It would have been gone but for you, Hans. Here"--pouring out the contents--"you must give us the pleasure of dividing the money with you.""No, mynheer," answered Hans. He spoke quietly, without pretence or any grace of manner, but Peter, somehow, felt rebuked, and put the silver back without a word.
I like that boy, rich or poor, he thought to himself, then added aloud, "May I ask about this trouble of yours, Hans?""Ah, mynheer, it is a sad case, but I have waited here too long.
I am going to Leyden to see the great Dr. Boekman.""Dr. Boekman!" exclaimed Peter in astonishment.
"Yes, mynheer, and I have not a moment to lose. Good day!""Stay, I am going that way. Come, my lads! Shall we return to Haarlem!""Yes," cried the boys, eagerly--and off they started.
"Now," said Peter, drawing near Hans, both skimming the ice so easily and lightly as they skated on together that they seemed scarcely conscious of moving. "We are going to stop at Leyden, and if you are going there only with a message to Dr. Boekman, cannot I do the errand for you? The boys may be too tired to skate so far today, but I will promise to see him early tomorrow if he is to be found in the city.""Ah, mynheer, that would be serving me indeed; it is not the distance I dread but leaving my mother so long.""Is she ill?""No, mynheer. It is the father. You may have heard it, how he has been without wit for many a year--ever since the great Schlossen Mill was built; but his body has been well and strong.
Last night the mother knelt upon the hearth to blow the peat (it is his only delight to sit and watch the live embers, and she will blow them into a blaze every hour of the day to please him).
