Immediately Bloemstein’s man was sent to summon the council, and before long Marbaise, Klessens, Conrads, Bauer, and Holzert entered—all clad in their uniforms, consisting of long coats trimmed with gold lace, knee-breeches, long woollen stockings of a doubtful white, and swords dangling at their sides.
It was quite evident that Holzert had given his whole time and attention to the job, as was, moreover, irrefutably proved by an unexpected incident.
When all were gathered round the big table, loudly uttering their admiration of their ruler’s portrait, long Kwoib Hermes suddenly rushed into the room, in his red baize drawers, with the tails of a blue shirt fluttering above them, and shouted aloud—“Thou accursed tailor, where are my trousers? I must go to early mass to-morrow, and I have no trousers!”
“You shall have them to-morrow; to-morrow morning early, Kwoib,” replied the indignant tradesman.
“No, I want them to-night. You’ve promised me them all the week, and I’m going to have those trousers of mine to-night.”
“Man, don’t make such a scandalous row! Just think where you are—before the ministers of the republican council!”
“The ministers and the council and the whole republic may be stolen, for all I care! I want my trousers, and I’m not going away from here before I get them.” And therewith he took a chair, and seated himself among the ministers of the crown.
“Will you get out or not?” asked Bauer, threateningly.
“No; I’m not going before I get my trousers.”
Suddenly Bloemstein heard the steps of his wife and daughter, who were coming to see what the noise was. Fearing that they might come in for this unseemly spectacle, he thrust the intruder into the next room, with the words, “There; you’ll find some trousers in there; just put them on in the meantime.”