An excellent representation of the "Feast of Saint Nicholas" next had the honor of attracting them.
"Look, Van Mounen," said Ben to Lambert, "could anything be better than this youngster's face? He looks as if he knows he deserves a whipping but hopes Saint Nicholas may not have found him out. That's the kind of painting I like; something that tells a story."
"Come, boys!" cried the captain, "ten o'clock, time we were off!"
They hastened to the canal.
"Skates on! Are you ready? One, two—hollo! where's Poot?"
Sure enough where was Poot?
A square opening had just been cut in the ice not ten yards off. Peter observed it, and without a word skated rapidly toward it.
All the others followed, of course.
Peter looked in. They all looked in; then stared anxiously at each other.
"Poot!" screamed Peter, peering into the hole again. All was still. The black water gave no sign; it was already glazing on top.