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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Out of my way!" said the youth in a haughty, resolute tone, trying to push Mulder aside with the back of his hand. "Hands off, Glipper!" cried the school-boys, raising their clenched hands threateningly. "Then let me alone," replied Wibisma, "I want no quarrel, least of all with you." "Why not with us?" asked Adrian Van der Werff, irritated by the supercilious, arrogant tone of the last words.
"I'll inform the rector of the annoying incident," replied Van der Werff, "and the culprits will receive their just dues; but pardon me, noble sir, if I ask whether any inquiry has been made concerning the cause of the quarrel?" Herr Matanesse Van Wibisma looked at the burgomaster in surprise and answered proudly: "You know my son's report."
"My uncle is right, Meister Peter," said Jan Van der Does, the same tall young noble, who, on the morning of that day, had sent Nicolas Van Wibisma home with a kindly warning. "It's no use, you must seek the Prince and consult with him." "I suppose I must," replied the burgomaster. "I'll go to-morrow morning." "Not to-morrow," replied Van Hout.
The boys knew the musician, Wilhelm Corneliussohn, and offered no resistance, for they liked him, and his dozen years of seniority gave him an undisputed authority among them. Not a hand was again raised against Wibisma, but the boys, all shouting and talking together, crowded around the organist to accuse Nicolas and defend themselves. Paul Van Swieten's wound was slight.
The landlord tossed on a bench several garments spread over the backs of two chairs to dry, and hung in their place the dripping cloaks of the baron and his son. While the elder Wibisma was ordering something hot to drink for himself and servants, Nicolas led the black page to the fire.
Two hours elapsed before all had sworn loyalty, and many a group that had passed under the linden together, warmly grasped each other's hands on the grounds in pledge of a second silent vow. Nicolas Van Wibisma sat silently, with his letter in his lap, beside a target opposite the spot where the oath was taken, but sorrowful, bitter emotions were seething in his breast.
"I'll inform the rector of the annoying incident," replied Van der Werff, "and the culprits will receive their just dues; but pardon me, noble sir, if I ask whether any inquiry has been made concerning the cause of the quarrel?" Herr Matanesse Van Wibisma looked at the burgomaster in surprise and answered proudly: "You know my son's report."
The old lady's hostility to the patriots was known to all, and as her nearest relatives, Herr Van Hoogstraten and Matanesse Van Wibisma, had been banished from Leyden, the duty of representing the heirs fell upon the city.
The landlord tossed on a bench several garments spread over the backs of two chairs to dry, and hung in their place the dripping cloaks of the baron and his son. While the elder Wibisma was ordering something hot to drink for himself and servants, Nicolas led the black page to the fire.
"Indeed!" replied the German smiling, for he had now recognized the speaker's figure by the dim light. I Put up your sword. If you are young Matanesse Van Wibisma, you have nothing to fear from me." "I am. But what are you doing on our premises at night, sword in hand?" "I'm warming the wall to my own satisfaction, or, if you want to know the truth, mounting guard." "In our house?" "Yes, Junker.
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