“One of the noblest in all Holland,” replied Krantz;—“he is heir to a large property, and independent by the fortune of his mother; but these two unfortunate events induced him to quit the States secretly, and he embarked for these countries that he might forget his grief.”
“One of the noblest families?” replied the commandant;—“then he is under an assumed name—Jacob Vancheat is not his true name, of course.”
“Oh, no,” replied Krantz;—“that it is not, I assure you; but my lips are sealed on that point.”
“Of course, except to a friend who can keep a secret. I will not ask it now. So he is really noble?”
“One of the highest families in the country, possessing great wealth and influence—allied to the Spanish nobility by marriage.”
“Indeed!” rejoined the commandant, musing—“I dare say he knows many of the Portuguese as well.”
“No doubt of it, they are all more or less connected.”
“He must prove to you a most valuable friend, Signor Richter.”
“I consider myself provided for for life as soon as we return home. He is of a very grateful, generous disposition, as he would prove to you, should you ever fall in with him.”
“I have no doubt of it; and I can assure you that I am heartily tired of staying in this country. Here I shall remain probably for two years more before I am relieved, and then shall have to join my regiment at Goa, and not be able to obtain leave to return home without resigning my commission. But he is coming this way.”