“The Count and Baron have not come to the house this evening, and I would advise you, Mynheer Bunckum, to descend from your perilous position, and allow my husband and me to arrange our family affairs as we think right and best; and I must again beg you to get off that tree, and take care, as you do so, that you do not fall down and break your neck.”
“I obey you, Vrouw Van Arent,” answered Mynheer Bunckum, cautiously retracing his steps along the branch, while the lady of the mansion shut the window, and closed the shutter over it, which completely excluded the light.
The Count and the Baron meantime waited in their place of concealment, fully believing that Mynheer Bunckum, on reaching the ground, would discover them. They had no wish that he should do this, as it would show him that they were aware of his malignant designs. They therefore drew close under the bushes, scarcely venturing to to breathe. They could hear him, as he reached the ground, threatening vengeance on their heads. He passed so close to them that the Baron, by catching hold of his leg, might have tripped him up, and punished him for his false accusations; but they wisely allowed him to go on, as they considered that such a proceeding would not be calculated to raise them in the estimation of Mynheer Van Arent and his family. They waited till he had got to some distance when, coming out of their place of concealment, they followed him to ascertain in what direction he was going. He was evidently too much put out to venture that evening into the presence of the ladies.
On the way to their inn they naturally looked about them to the right hand and to the left, as well as occasionally behind, to be certain that their jealous rival, as they considered Mynheer Bunckum, was not following them. He all the time was engaged in forming a design against their liberties of which they had no notion. On reaching the inn, they found a note on pink paper in a delicate female hand purporting to come from Mynheer Van Arent, inviting them to accompany his family to a picnic on the banks of the Meer on the following morning.
“By all means we will go,” exclaimed the Count. “I will take my violin, and who knows what may happen.”
In the course of conversation they made inquiries about the various people in the neighbourhood of the landlady, whose good graces they had won.
“What sort of a person is Mynheer Bunckum?” asked the Count.
“He owns the castle of Wykel, not far from this. It is said that he is trying to win the hand of one of the daughters of Mynheer Van Arent, but whether or not he will gain her is a question. I desire to put you on your guard against him, Mynheers, for he is not a man to be trifled with.” Proceeding at an early hour the next morning to the house of Mynheer Van Arent, they found the family prepared for their excursion. The distance to the lake was not great, and on reaching the pier, running out a short distance into the shallow water, a large boat of substantial build was seen alongside. She of course was round-sterned, drawing but little water, but had tolerably sharp bows; her poop was gilded and carved, as was her stern, while every part was either varnished or brilliantly coloured. She was indeed the family yacht. Instead of white canvas her sails were of a dark red hue, though of fine material; she had a comfortably fitted-up cabin, with every luxury on board. Numberless other vessels, broad and shallow, were sailing here and there over the lake, their sails either red brick or saffron-coloured, reflected on the violet-tinted waters, which contrasted with the silvery hue of the sky, and a green ribbon of land bordering the lake. These flat-bottomed, bulging round vessels were employed in distributing the produce of the neighbouring farms to all parts of the country around.
A short sail on board the yacht took the party to the point which had been selected for their picnic, at which other yachts of a similar construction quickly arrived, and the viands they had brought were then carried on shore, and spread under the shade of the trees. Mynheer Bunckum before long made his appearance, looking gloomy and morose, as he observed the strangers. The Count and the Baron were introduced to a number of persons, who did their best to make themselves agreeable. The feast having concluded, at which if there was not much wit there was a great deal of laughter, the party retreated to a more shady spot, where the Count was requested to favour them with an air on his violin. He gladly complied, and elicited general applause, greatly to the annoyance of Mynheer Bunckum, who, getting up, retired to a distance, and sat himself down,
