This counsel met with unanimous approbation, and was, in fact, the most practical, and at the same time the easiest, way of disposing of the prisoner.
Bloemstein was furious; and when the gendarmes who escorted him took leave of him at the frontier, he was almost beside himself with rage. He would have liked to take them with him into his dominions, where he was undisputed lord and master; he would then have summoned the commander of the local rifles, and ordered him to shut up the Maastricht officials for a whole day in the cellar below the council-chamber. But, alas! fate was against him, he could not gratify his desire for vengeance; but being forced to relieve his feelings in some way, he did so by indignantly shouting after their retreating figures, “You Dutch cheese-heads, you!”
With hasty steps he forthwith sought his chief counsellor, the Minister for Home Affairs, the tailor Holzert. In excited language, and with wild gestures, he related the story of the outrage suffered by him at Maastricht, and asked, in conclusion, “What are we to do?”
The tailor put his hand to his head, and remained for some little time lost in thought.
“What are we to do?” repeated Bloemstein; “we can’t let a thing like that pass.”
“What are we to do?” replied Holzert, speaking slowly and solemnly. “Why, we must declare war against Holland.”
“Declare war against Holland?”
“Yes.”
“And what for?”
“For high treason.”