"So is this," said I.
"Dear me, what is It doing here?" she demanded, sorry to have praised a possession of the enemy's.
"It's waiting to take you round Haarlem," I replied. "I thought it would be a nice way for you to see the place, as the suburbs are its speciality, so to speak, and motoring saves time."
"You're a queer chap, Alb," remarked the Mariner. "You have such a way of keeping things up your sleeve, and springing them on one. You ought to be called 'William the Silent.'"
"Why, that's what he is called, didn't you know? Mr. van Buren told us," exclaimed Phyllis, and ended up her sentence with a stifled shriek which could have meant nothing but a surreptitious pinch.
I would not have glanced at either of the girls for anything; but I would have given something to know how Nell was looking.
"Have you any more belongings here?" asked the Chaperon, gaily. "Such as an ancestral castle, where you could give us another surprise feast?"
I laughed. "As a matter of fact, I have an ancestral castle in the neighborhood. It isn't mine, but it was my ancestors', and if I can't exactly entertain you in it, I can give you tea close by at a country inn. Perhaps you've read about the Château of Brederode, within a drive of Haarlem?"
I saw by Nell's face that she had, but she was the only one who did not answer, and the others hadn't informed themselves of its existence.
Hendrik, helped by my chauffeur, got out the small luggage which is kept ready for shore duty—the Chaperon's splendidly-fitted dressing-bag making everything else look shabby—and the five of us (six with Tibe) got into the car, I taking the driver's seat.