“A coward, father? I thought as much.”
“Indeed, and why?”
“Because that stupid boy of the minister’s is Van Assen too, and he is a coward!”
“That does not follow. This Van Assen was not in any way related to the minister’s family. At least I believe not. But he was not a coward, he was far worse. He was a traitor to his country. He betrayed the town to the French.”
“And what did they do to a low fellow like that?” I asked, full of pain and indignation that a countryman of mine could have betrayed his native town to the enemy.
“At first, nothing; for at that time he was protected by the French. But when they were gone, his fellow-townsmen razed his house to the ground, and he was shot.”
“Then he was buried in the churchyard?”
“Well, yes; because his family was a rich and distinguished one, they consented to bury him in the churchyard; but, of course, it was done without show or splendour. I know no more about it.”
“Don’t you know in which corner he was buried?”
“Yes, the corner by the baker’s shop.”