"It is time we were sailing from England," said he uneasily to Conrad. "The journey has taken long, food has been higher than I thought, and we have had to pay tariff a dozen times."
Again and again he took from his pocket the letter of the magistrate of Oberdorf. Of the chief of his fears he said nothing to Conrad. The good Queen of England had offered transportation to the distressed Germans; but had she realized, had any one anticipated that so vast a throng would take her at her word? The river captains told of weeks and weeks of such crowding of the lower river. Would there be ships enough to carry them all to the New World? Would the Queen provide for them until they could sail?
Presently rumors of trouble increased John Conrad's fears. A passing boat declared that the Germans were forbidden to enter Rotterdam, the lowland city at which they would have to take ship for England. The congestion had become serious. The citizens of Rotterdam announced that their patience and their resources were exhausted; the Germans could no longer wait there for English boats; they must return whence they had come.
At this announcement there was a loud outcry. Like the Weisers, the other pilgrims had sold or had given away everything except the property they carried with them; if they returned now, it would be to greater misery than that which they had left. Go on they must. John Conrad reminded them of the Lord in whom they trusted. The Queen had promised and England was rich in resources. The Queen's charity was not entirely disinterested; she expected the Germans to people her new colonies. Nor did John Conrad believe that the Hollanders would see them starve on the way to England. But even as he argued with himself, his heart misgave him. He had seen persons starve, he had seen men and women and children struck down by the swords of brutal soldiers. There was nothing in the world, he believed, too terrible for heartless men to do.
As they drew nearer to Rotterdam, the anxiety of the helmsman was plain to be seen.
"I pay no attention to what passers-by say," he told John Conrad. "But if you see any long, narrow boats, with the flag of Holland flying, then it will be time to be frightened. They will have the power to make us turn back."
Each hour the rate of travel became slower and slower. There was now no current whatever, and for many days the wind did not blow. Finally, when, at nightfall, the Elspeth came into the harbor, John Conrad breathed a deep sigh of relief. In the morning the travelers saw next them at the wharf one of the long boats which the helmsman had described, and heard that it was to start in an hour to warn all the pilgrims to return to their homes.
The passengers of the Elspeth were not allowed to enter the city, but were bidden to wait on the wharf for English ships. Here their quarters were almost as restricted as they had been on shipboard. In prompt contradiction of the statement that their patience and their supplies were exhausted, the kind Hollanders brought food to the guests who had thrust themselves upon them.
Now the helmsman came to bid his friends good-bye. John Conrad gave him many blessings and the children cried bitterly and embraced him.
"If he were only going with us, what fine times we should have on the sea!" said Conrad.