Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 12, 2025
"Come in, Craeke, and mind well what my brother will tell you." "No, John; it will not suffice to send a verbal message; unfortunately, I shall be obliged to write." "And why that?" "Because Van Baerle will neither give up the parcel nor burn it without a special command to do so." "But will you be able to write, poor old fellow?"
"Death to the traitors!" howled the populace. "Do you hear now, Cornelius?" "To the traitors! that means us!" said the prisoner, raising his eyes to heaven and shrugging his shoulders. "Yes, it means us," repeated John. "Where is Craeke?" "At the door of your cell, I suppose." "Let him enter then." John opened the door; the faithful servant was waiting on the threshold.
And Craeke, who thought he had remarked in the streets of Dort symptoms of a tumult similar to that which he had witnessed before his departure from the Hague, ran off without even looking behind him. "All right! all right! my dear Craeke," said Cornelius, stretching his arm under the table for the bulb; "your paper shall be read, indeed it shall."
Craeke from afar off recognised Dort, the smiling city, at the foot of a hill dotted with windmills.
"Oh, sir! sir!" cried the servant, rushing into the dry-room with a much paler face and with a much more frightened mien than Craeke had shown. "Well!" asked Cornelius, foreboding some mischief from the double breach of the strict rule of his house. "Oh, sir, fly! fly quick!" cried the servant. "Fly! and what for?" "Sir, the house is full of the guards of the States." "What do they want?"
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.
"Now," said he, "when honest Craeke sounds his coxswain's whistle, it will be a signal of his being clear of the crowd, and of his having reached the other side of the pond. And then it will be our turn to depart." Five minutes had not elapsed, before a long and shrill whistle was heard through the din and noise of the square of the Buytenhof. John gratefully raised his eyes to heaven.
"Sir," answered the servant, "it is a messenger from the Hague." "A messenger from the Hague! What does he want?" "Sir, it is Craeke." "Craeke! the confidential servant of Mynheer John de Witt? Good, let him wait." "I cannot wait," said a voice in the lobby. And at the same time forcing his way in, Craeke rushed into the dry-room.
As far as Craeke was concerned, it was impossible to find him, as he had left Holland. The paper also was not very likely to be found, and no one gave himself the trouble to look for it. Cornelius himself did not much press this point, since, even supposing that the paper should turn up, it could not have any direct connection with the correspondence which constituted the crime.
"Through my servant Craeke, who was to have accompanied us on horseback, and who has entered the prison with me, to assist you downstairs." "Consider well before having those precious documents burnt, John!" "I consider, above all things, that the brothers De Witt must necessarily save their lives, to be able to save their character. If we are dead, who will defend us?
Word Of The Day
Others Looking