William delicately guided his horse a little nearer.
“I should like to go into the church.”
“Well, it is open, Mynheer.”
At this the Prince dismounted.
“Where can I secure my horse?” he asked.
“There is a house behind the church——”
“Deserted, it seems.”
“He was killed under de Ruyter, and his wife died last year”—the fisherman gave slow information. “A youngster from the Hague has it now, but you can fasten up your horse to the door-post.”
William gave grave thanks, and led the horse across the sloping sand hillocks and secured him carefully to one of the stakes comprising the broken fencing that surrounded the closed house.
When he returned the fisherman had bent over his work as if he had forgotten him.