accuse Nicolas and defend themselves.

Paul Van Swieten's wound was slight. He stood outside the circle of
his companions, supporting the injured left arm with his right hand. He
frequently blew upon the burning spot in his flesh, over which a bit
of cloth was wrapped, but curiosity concerning the result of this
entertaining brawl was stronger than the wish to have it bandaged and
healed.

As the peace-maker's work was already drawing to a close, the wounded
lad, pointing with his sound hand in the direction of the school,
suddenly called warningly:

"There comes Herr von Nordwyk. Let the Glipper go, or there will be
trouble."

Paul Van Swieten again clasped his wounded arm with his right hand and
ran swiftly around the church. Several other boys followed, but the
new-comer of whom they were afraid, a man scarcely thirty years old, had
legs of considerable length, and knew how to use them bravely.

"Stop, boys!" he shouted in an echoing voice of command. "Stop! What has
Happened here?"

Every one in Leyden respected the learned and brave young nobleman, so
all the lads who had not instantly obeyed Van Swieten's warning shout,
stood still until Herr von Nordwyk reached them.

A strange, eager light sparkled in this man's clever eyes, and a subtle
smile hovered around his moustached lip, as he called to the musician:

"What has happened here, Meister Wilhelm? Didn't the clamor of Minerva's
apprentices harmonize with your organ-playing, or did--but by all the
colors of Iris, that's surely Nico Matanesse, young Wibisma! And how he
looks! Brawling in the shadow of the church--and you here too, Adrian,
and you, Meister Wilhelm?"

"I separated them," replied the other quietly, smoothing his rumpled
cuffs.

"With perfect calmness, but impressively--like your organ-music," said
the commander, laughing.

"Who began the fight? You, young sir? or the others?"

Nicolas, in his excitement, shame, and indignation, could find no
coherent words, but Adrian came forward saying: "We wrestled together.
Don't be too much vexed with us, Herr Janus."

Nicolas cast a friendly glance at his foe.

Herr von Nordwyk, Jan Van der Does, or as a learned man he preferred
to call himself, Janus Dousa, was by no means satisfied with this
information, but exclaimed:

"Patience, patience! You look suspicious enough, Meister Adrian; come
here and tell me, 'atrekeos,' according to the truth, what has been
going on."

The boy obeyed the