I TOLD HIM VERY SHORTLY, AND NEVER IN MY LIFE HAVE I SEEN SO PITEOUS A SPECTACLE AS THAT LITTLE ROUND RUBICUND MAN AT THE HEARING OF MY STORY
"Mynheer," said I, "there are two things you may do. The first is, to keep silence. This unhappy business is known wholly to none but you, Cosmo Volmar, and myself—and in part to my servant and Jan Verhoeff, who have their reasons for holding their peace. The second is, to undo the wrong you have done your daughter and her promised husband. Thus you will both preserve the reputation for courage you won at the point of the ham bone"—(I could not withhold this quip)—"and win a new renown for fatherly indulgence and magnanimity of soul."
Upon this the Burgomaster looked somewhat more cheerfully; but again his face fell, and he turned away his eyes, as with a faltering voice he told me that he had ordered my arrest.
"And here is the Captain of the Guard," said I, as I heard his clanking step without, "come for the cancelment of your warrant."
The Burgomaster was overcome with humiliation when aware that I knew already of the warrant. He tore the paper passionately across, and wept hot tears when he placed the captain's hand in mine and bade him cherish me as an honest man. There was ever something of the play actor about goodman Burgomaster.
And now I have told my story. You may like to know that the city did not yield to the Spaniards, but held out for a good month beyond, and was then relieved by Prince Maurice, who advanced through a fierce rainstorm at the head of a large and well-furnished army. I was presented to him on his entrance by Sir Francis Vere, who with a grave countenance related how he had chosen me, as one expert in war and cunning in counsel, to assist the burghers in their extremity. When the Prince had thanked me in the name of the United States of the Netherlands, and invited me to continue in his service, Sir Francis drew me aside and said in my ear—
"Thou'rt a cunning rascal, and be hanged to thee."
But I leave you to say whether 'twas cunning that served me best.
The praises and blessings heaped upon me by the two ladies, the mother and the sweetheart of Jan Verhoeff, were dearer to me even than the commendation of Prince Maurice. Methinks it is better to make two or three happy than to take a fenced city. In the spring of the next year Jan wrote me word that he had been made councillor and town clerk of Bargen, and was now the husband of pretty Mistress Jacqueline.