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Updated: June 17, 2025
"Reading the sign!" exclaimed Paul, laughing; "a fellow would knock all the teeth out of his head in attempting to speak some of these words." "But many of them are very like English words. A dike is a dijk." "Steamboats are stoombooten," said Paul; "and a street is a straat. What are canals?" "Grachten; the drawbridge is ophaalbruggen." "Whew!" whistled Paul.
From afar at the end of Tsar Peter Straat, issued in the frosty air the tinkle of bells of the horse tramcars, appearing and disappearing in the opening between the buildings, like little toy carriages harnessed with toy horses and played with by people that appeared no bigger than children.
Ten minutes' ride through the quiet town, for in those days of terror and suspicion unless business took them abroad people did not frequent the streets much after sundown, brought the party to the van Goorl's house in the Bree Straat. Here Adrian dismounted and tried to open the door, only to find that it was locked and barred.
That evening, but not until dark had fallen, two other travellers entered Leyden, namely, Foy and Martin. Passing unobserved through the quiet streets, they reached the side door of the house in the Bree Straat. It was opened by a serving-woman, who told Foy that his mother was in Adrian's room, also that Adrian was very much better.
Jacob Straat in The Hague; she is a Jewess, as, indeed, are most of the denizens of St. Jacob Straat and its neighbour, Bezem Straat, where the fruit-sellers live "it is the Professor von Holzen, who passes this way once or twice a week. He is a good man."
It is, at all events, better than the common attitude of the many, that says, "Let us exchange confidences," leading to the barter of two valueless commodities. The professor stopped at the door of No. 15, St. Jacob Straat one of the oldest houses in this old street and slowly lighted a cigar.
When Adrian left his mother's house in the Bree Straat he wandered away at hazard, for so utterly miserable was he that he could form no plans as to what he was to do or whither he should go. Presently he found himself at the foot of that great mound which in Leyden is still known as the Burg, a strange place with a circular wall upon the top of it, said to have been constructed by the Romans.
From one street to another, round this turn and round that, sped the quarry, and after him, a swiftly growing pack, came the hounds. Some women drew a washing-line across the street to trip him. Adrian jumped it like a deer. Four men got ahead and tried to cut him off. He dodged them. Down the Bree Straat he went, and on his mother's door he saw a paper and guessed what was written there.
Roden stood beside him, slouching and heavy-shouldered, with his hands in his trouser pockets. His lower lip was pressed inward between his teeth. His eyes were drawn and anxious. On the bed, between the two men, lay a third an old-looking youth with lank red hair. It was the story of St. Jacob Straat over again, and it was new to Percy Roden, who could not turn his eyes elsewhere.
Jacob Straat is also pressed into the service of that commerce in old metal and damaged domestic utensils which seems to enable thousands of the accursed people to live and thrive according to their lights.
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