MIJNHEER HIERNAAST.
On the door there was a singular notice, freshly pasted, which at once arrested my attention and which I copied into my notebook.
“Afwezig.
Brieven en boodschappen
te bezorgen bij
Mijnheer Hiernaast.”
Unhappily I had left my faithful companion, the dictionary, at home. I was thus obliged to fall back upon my stock of Dutch learning and guess what I did not know.
‘Boodschappen’ and ‘bezorgen’ were new words to me, but I seemed to gather the general sense of the placard. If anybody wanted to see my friend van der Leeuwen, or communicate with him, he appeared to be invited to do so through the medium of a gentleman called “Hiernaast.” The curious thing was—no address was given to indicate whereabouts Mr. Hiernaast lived.
Now this was very puzzling; for just that morning I had been shown how particular you must be in Holland about addresses. As I had not given word to the authorities when I moved from the hotel to my lodgings, I had been summoned to the “Bevolkingsregisterbureau,” and had to display my “Geboorteacte.”
A WELL-KNOWN MAN.