:

"How did deserting suit you? How are affairs in Spain, master Glipper?"

The young noble raised his head still higher, the negro did the same,
and both walked quietly on, even when Adrian shouted in his ear:

"Little Glipper, tell me, for how many pieces of silver did Judas sell
the Saviour?"

Young Matanesse Van Wibisma made an indignant gesture, but controlled
himself until Jan Mulder stepped in front of him, holding his little
cloth cap, into which he had thrust a hen's feather, under his chin like
a beggar, and saying humbly:

"Give me a little shrove-money for our tom-cat, Sir Grandee; he stole a
leg of veal from the butcher yesterday."

"Out of my way!" said the youth in a haughty, resolute tone, trying to
push Mulder aside with the back of his hand.

"Hands off, Glipper!" cried the school-boys, raising their clenched
hands threateningly.

"Then let me alone," replied Wibisma, "I want no quarrel, least of all
with you."

"Why not with us?" asked Adrian Van der Werff, irritated by the
supercilious, arrogant tone of the last words.

The youth shrugged his shoulders, but Adrian cried: "Because you like
your Spanish costume better than our doublets of Leyden cloth."

Here he paused, for Jan Mulder stole behind Wibisma, struck his hat down
on his head with a book, and while Nicolas Van Wibisma was trying to
free his eyes from the covering that shaded them, exclaimed:

"There, Sir Grandee, now the little hat sits firm! You can keep it on,
even before the king."

The negro could not go to his master's assistance, for his arms were
filled with parcels, but the young noble did not call him, knowing
how cowardly his black servant was, and feeling strong enough to help
himself.

A costly clasp, which he had just received as a gift on his seventeenth
birthday, confined the plume in his hat; but without a thought he flung
it aside, stretched out his arms as if for a wrestling-match, and with
florid cheeks, asked in a loud, resolute tone: "Who did that?"

Jan Mulder had hastily retreated among his companions, and instead of
coming forward and giving his name, called:

"Look for the hat-fuller, Glipper! We'll play blindman's buff."

The youth, frantic with rage, repeated his question. When, instead of
any other answer, the boys entered into Jan Mulder's jest, shouting
gaily: "Yes, play blind-man's buff! Look for the hat-fuller. Come,
little Glipper, begin." Nicolas could contain himself no longer, but
sh