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Updated: May 14, 2025
On the other hand, Van Gend, the admiral of the squadron engaged with the Earl's, was killed in the beginning of the action. The contest was maintained with the daring and steady valor characteristic of both nations, from seven in the morning until nightfall.
Led on by these clear voices, our party, with Mevrouw van Gend and her husband, trod the quiet but crowded streets, until they came to a fine old church in the southern part of the city. The interior was large and, notwithstanding its great stained windows, seemed dimly lighted, though the walls were white and dashes of red and purple sunshine lay brightly upon pillar and pew.
Young Madame van Gend almost crushes the flowers in her hand: she had been quite sure that Peter would be first. Carl Schummel is next, then Ben, and the youth with the red cap. The others are pressing close. A tall figure darts from among them. He passes the red cap, he passes Ben, then Carl. Now it is an even race between him and Hans. Madame van Gend catches her breath. It is Peter!
"Very gallant indeed!" exclaimed Ben, with almost a sneer in his polite laugh. "And she the daughter of an admiral of France." "Was she? Upon my word, I had nearly forgotten that. But, you see, Holland had very plain ways in the good old time; in fact, we are a very simple, frugal people to this day. The Van Gend establishment is a decided exception, you know."
After we return, Brother van Gend says he will lend Jacob his English pony and obtain three extra horses; and all of the party are to trot about the city in a grand cavalcade, led on by him. He will ride the black horse which Father sent him from Friesland. My sister's pretty roan with the long white tail is lame, and she will ride none other; else she would accompany us.
Carl Schummel is next, then Ben, and the youth with the red cap. A tall figure darts from among them. He passes the red cap, he passes Ben, then Carl. Now it is an even race between him and Hans. Madame van Gend catches her breath. It is Peter! He is ahead! Hans shoots past him. Hilda's eyes fill with tears. Peter MUST beat. Annie's eyes flash proudly.
His English courtiers complimented him upon his reception. "Yes," said he, "but the shouting is nothing to what it would have been if Mary had been with me!" While Ben was looking at the portraits, Mynheer van Gend was giving the boys an account of a recent visit to Antwerp.
Ludwig had been regarding his brother with enthusiastic admiration. "Hurrah for you, Pete! It takes you to make plans! Mother'll be as full of it as we are when we tell her we can take her love direct to sister Van Gend. My, but it's cold," he added. "Cold enough to take a fellow's head off his shoulders. We'd better go home."
Peter, too, has something in his hands. "Oh! Oh! How splendid!" she cries, and "Oh! How splendid!" is echoed as far as people can see. Meantime the silver skates flash in the sunshine, throwing dashes of light upon those two happy faces. Mevrouw van Gend sends a little messenger with her bouquets. One for Hilda, one for Carl, and others for Peter and Gretel.
"A very agreeable exception, I think," said Ben. "Certainly, certainly. But, between you and me, Mynheer van Gend, though he has wrought his own fortunes, can afford to be magnificent and yet be frugal." "Exactly so," said Ben profoundly, at the same time stroking his upper lip and chin, which latterly he believed had been showing delightful and unmistakable signs of coming dignities.
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