The students descended from the heights, whose fortresses command the city, took an outside view of the Hôtel de Ville, several churches, and other public buildings, and breakfasted at nine. Though they had by no means exhausted the city, the time would not permit a further examination. The train was ready for them; and their next stop was at Louvain, which, like Ghent and Bruges, had dwindled down from a population of two hundred thousand to thirty-three thousand. It contains a magnificent town hall, decorated in the most elaborate style.
From Louvain the party hurried on to Mechlin, or Malines, a picturesque old city, still famous for its fine lace. It is about the size of Louvain, and, like that, presents a deserted appearance, being only the shadow of its former greatness. Its principal object of interest to the tourist is the Cathedral of St. Romuald, a structure of the fifteenth century, and, like the great churches at Cologne and Antwerp, still unfinished. It was built with money obtained by the sale of the pope's indulgences, which, happily, "gave out" at last. Its spire, which was to have been six hundred and forty feet high, remains incomplete, at little more than half this height, which, however, is only eighteen feet less than the cross on St. Paul's, in London. The church is an immense structure, said to cover nearly two acres of ground. It is the cathedral of the Belgian archbishop, or primate.
"There, Paul, we have finished Belgium," said Dr. Winstock, as the train started for Antwerp.
"I am glad of it; for I am tired of sight-seeing. It seems to me now that I have no desire to see another Cathedral, Hôtel de Ville, or Grande Place," replied Paul, languidly, as he settled himself back in his seat.
"A new country will wake you up," laughed the doctor. "I suppose we shall be in Rotterdam to-morrow."
"I hope so, though I don't know but I should like blue water better than being shut up in these rivers and canals."
"You will get blue water enough before the season is ended."
In half an hour from Malines, the train reached Antwerp. Mr. Fluxion had arrived before; and there were two tugs at the Quai Vandyck, which had been employed to tow the vessels down the river. They conveyed the students on board, and the orders for sailing were given immediately.
Mr. Hamblin, who had not yet recovered from his disappointment, hastened to the cabin. He commenced a diligent search for papers written by the captain, in order to compare their penmanship with that of the forged note. As Mr. Stoute had been compelled to acknowledge, there was a general resemblance between the handwriting of Paul and that of the unknown scribbler of the note. Though a minute comparison failed to establish any closer connection between them, the professor wanted to make out his point; and it was not difficult for him to find a particular similarity.
Paul was busy on deck, getting the Josephine under weigh, and Mr. Hamblin had the cabin to himself for his investigation. The stamp on the paper of the fictitious note had already excited his attention, and he took the liberty to enter Paul's state-room, in search of some like it. He opened the upper drawer of the bureau, which formed a writing-table when the front was dropped. The first object that attracted his attention was a package of paper of the size, and apparently of the quality, he sought. He picked up a quire of it, and a smile of vindictive satisfaction played upon his wrinkled face, as he discovered upon it the identical stamp of the forged note.