"Yes," very gruffly; "and other business, young master?"
"No, mine host—except that I and my comrades here would like a bite of something, and a drink of hot coffee."
"Ah," said the landlord, sweetly, "a bite you shall have, and coffee too, the finest in Leyden. Walk up to the stove, my masters—now I think again—that was a widow lady—from Rotterdam, I think they said—visiting at one Van Stoepel's if I mistake not."
"Ah!" said Peter, greatly relieved. "They live in the white house by the Schlossen Mill—now, mynheer, the coffee, please!"
"What a goose I was," thought he, as the party left the Golden Eagle, "to feel so sure it was my mother—but she may be somebody's mother, poor woman, for all that. Who can she be, I wonder?"
There were not many upon the canal that day, between Leyden and Haarlem. However, as the boys neared Amsterdam, they found themselves once more in the midst of a moving throng. The big Ysbreeker[28]
had been at work for
the first time that season, but there was any amount of skating ground left yet.
"Three cheers for home!" cried Van Mounen, as they came in sight of the great Western dock (Westelijk Dok). "Hurrah! Hurrah!" shouted one and all. "Hurrah! Hurrah!"
This trick of cheering was an importation among our party. Lambert van Mounen had brought it from England. As they always gave it in English, it was considered quite an exploit and, when circumstances permitted, always enthusiastically performed, to the sore dismay of their quiet-loving countrymen.
Therefore, their arrival at Amsterdam created a great sensation, especially among the small boys on the wharfs.
The Y was crossed. They were on the Broek canal.