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Updated: October 10, 2025
Heideck began to fear that either his knowledge of men, so often tried, had deceived him on this occasion, or that Brandelaar had fallen a victim to some act of imprudence in England. A whole week having passed since Brandelaar had started, Heideck at least hoped for his return to-day.
Skipper Brandelaar had given Edith the name of the inn near the harbour, where he expected a message from Heideck in the course of the night; for he felt certain that the Major would be anxious to speak to him as soon as possible. But he was considerably surprised when, instead of the messenger he expected, he saw his beautiful disguised passenger enter the low, smoke-begrimed taproom.
As a skipper you have probably never troubled yourself much about politics during your lifetime: you scarcely had a correct idea of the risk you were running. If the court-martial condemns you, you will only have your friend Penurot to thank for it." "What you say is quite true, sir," replied Brandelaar with well-acted simplicity.
Heideck now set out for Ternenzen to give Brandelaar the information for Admiral Hollway that had been collected at his office, together with the private information that was of such importance to him. At last, having paid Brandelaar a thousand francs on account, Heideck also gave him the letter to Edith, with careful instructions as to its delivery.
"And of course, Herr Brandelaar, you had no suspicion of the important stuffing in your white bread? Now, I am not called upon to investigate the matter further. It will be for the court-martial to throw light on the affair." The grocer turned as pale as death, and lifted up his hands imploringly. "Mercy, Herr major, mercy! As true as I live, I am innocent."
Heideck assumed that Brandelaar had now come for his promised reward. But as the skipper, after receiving the money, kept turning his hat between his fingers, like a man who does not like to perform a painful errand or make a disagreeable request, Heideck asked in astonishment: "Have you anything else to say to me, Brandelaar?"
"And no doubt night is the best time for that," rejoined Heideck in a sarcastic tone, but with an imperturbably serious air. "Now let me see your papers, Mynheer Brandelaar." Just as he had expected, the papers were in perfect order. The fishing smack Bressay, owner Maximilian van Spranekhuizen of Rotterdam, sailing with a cargo of pickled herrings from Lerwick. Captain, Maaning Brandelaar.
They rowed across to the vessel in a yawl, and when Brandelaar returned to the quay he had his fifty pounds all right in his pocket. "If the Herr major asks after me, you may tell him the whole truth with confidence," Edith had said to him. "And greet him from me greet him heartily. Don't forget that, Brandelaar."
It was nine o'clock rather late for the business which Maaning Brandelaar intended to transact at Breskens. Heideck sent the marines on deck with orders to see that no one left the ship before the captain returned. He then ordered a lantern to be lighted to examine below.
"I shall have to take Brandelaar seriously to task for playing so reckless a game. But what made him so long in returning?" "I believe he had all kinds of private business to see after. And he was not the only one I had my business too. I did not want to come to you empty-handed, my friend." "Empty-handed? I don't understand."
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