"The worst is over," said Markus. "Yes, Juffrouw, to-day I'll 'strike it', and it is well."
After eating some bread, said he: "Johannes, go to the Van Tijns and ask if Marjon may go with us. If you would like to, we will go to see the King and Queen."
"Where?" asked Johannes.
"In the church, Johannes. The sexton is a good friend of mine, and has promised me a place for you both, near the singers."
I shall not tell you in detail of the ceremony, for you may read all about it in the papers: how the church was crammed with the stateliest and most distinguished citizens of the Netherlands, all of them beautifully dressed; how the floral decorations were furnished by a certain firm; how people stood at the door all night that they might be the first to enter in the morning; how the bridal pair came in to the music of Mendelssohn's wedding march; how charming the bride looked, although a little pale; how an impressive train of brilliantly decorated military men and magistrates followed the royal pair, and grouped themselves about them, till the church interior seemed truly magnificent; how respectfully the people stood, and how stirred they all were; how the Minister made a brief but touching speech, that affected all profoundly; how finely, during the customary formalities, the King carried himself, and how winsomely the Queen; how the Queen, moreover, said "Yes" in a voice that thrilled all present; how the King then spoke a few words, in which he promised to consecrate all his powers to the good of his beloved people, and invoked the blessing-of God upon his difficult but exalted task; and how, finally, a thundering "Long live the King!" and "Long live the Queen!" burst forth, making the whole vast edifice resound.
With all of this the papers have accurately acquainted you. But you might perhaps recall that a number of journals had something to say of a slight disturbance caused by the appearance of one who probably was not quite right in his head. The incident, however—so the papers averred—had no significance whatever, and was speedily forgotten; such instances often occurring at ceremonies attended by great crowds.
The disturber of the peace—so the papers stated—was one whom the police had long held under surveillance, on account of his peculiar behavior. He was, therefore, promptly taken into custody, the police, indeed, having had no little difficulty in protecting him from the fury of the populace. The royal pair, not in the least agitated by the occurrence, drove home through the enthusiastic rejoicings of the people, greeting all with friendly smiles.
This, then, was the information imparted by some few of the newspapers—not all of them. But now I will tell you what actually took place. I know well, because Johannes and Marjon—for whom the sexton had secured a fine place with the singers in the church choir, and who, therefore, witnessed everything—told me all about it.
In the nave of the cathedral, above the arches of the aisles, and running beneath the high windows, is a very narrow gallery having a stone balustrade. The only way to this gallery is through small doorways called "Monks' Holes." They are so named because from them, in olden times, the friars could witness the church rites below.