All were now dressed and starting. Walter was to see his first “comedy,” and, perhaps, take a part in one.
Chapter XXXI
Good Muse, sweet Muse, take us back to Pieterseville again. Whisper to me and tell me what happened there during Walter’s romantic enchantment; and have a care that my language rises to the dignity of the subject.
We know already, Clio, how the mistress of the castle saw her progeny depart to protect the distressed lady from the nefarious attacks of robbers and murderers; how her blessing and the consecrated blade were withheld, and how the brave youth sallied forth with a nightcap his only weapon. We know, too, how the bachelor Stoffel, the hereditary custodian of the reputation of the family——
Ah, let us treat the matter quite simply, and leave the muse alone.
On the Friday evening in question Juffrouw Pieterse went to bed as usual. The others did the same. There were no indications of bad dreams. There was no trace of anxiety over the terrible danger to which Walter had thoughtlessly exposed himself. This might have been because they did not know of the danger. It had not been at all necessary for Juffrouw Laps to conceal her intention so slyly and always omit Walter’s name from the knighthood of the Pieterse family. Thanks to the stupidity of the family, she might have gained her point without any finesse.
Saturday morning dawned, that morning on which Mrs. Claus applied the restoratives so abundantly, and so efficaciously.
“I wonder where in the world the boy can be so long?” said the mother.
“I don’t suppose he got up very early; and then maybe she had him to read a chapter out of the Bible at breakfast.”