The youth instantly obeyed and as, instead of looking at the birds, he
gazed after the two enthusiastic supporters of Holland's liberty, who
were riding along the road leading to Delft, remembered the simile of
fetters that drag men down, and saw rising before his mental vision the
glitter of the gold chain King Philip had sent his father, Nicolas
involuntarily glanced towards him as he stood whispering eagerly with the
landlord. Now he even laid his hand on his shoulder. Was it right for him
to hold intercourse with a man whom he must despise at heart? Or was
he--he shuddered, for the word "traitor," which one of the school-boys
had shouted in his ears during the quarrel before the church, returned to
his memory.

When the rain grew less violent, the travellers left the inn. The baron
allowed the hideous landlord to kiss his hand at parting, but Nicolas
would not suffer him to touch his.

Few words were exchanged between father and son during the remainder of
their ride to the Hague, but the musician and the fencing-master were
less silent on the way to Delft.

Wilhelm had modestly, as beseemed the younger man, suggested that his
companion had expressed his hostile feelings towards the nobleman too
openly.

"True, perfectly true," replied Allertssohn, whom his friends called
"Allerts." "Very true! Temper oh! temper! You don't suspect, Herr
Wilhelm--But we'll let it pass."

"No, speak, Meister."

"You'll think no better of me, if I do."

"Then let us talk of something else."

"No, Wilhelm. I needn't be ashamed, no one will take me for a coward."

The musician laughed, exclaiming: "You a coward! How many Spaniards has
your Brescian sword killed?"

"Wounded, wounded, sir, far oftener than killed," replied the other. "If
the devil challenges me I shall ask: Foils, sir, or Spanish swords? But
there's one person I do fear, and that's my best and at the same time my
worst friend, a Netherlander, like yourself, the man who rides here
beside you. Yes, when rage seizes upon me, when my beard begins to
tremble, my small share of sense flies away as fast as your doves when
you let them go. You don't know me, Wilhelm."

"Don't I? How often must one see you in command and visit you in the
fencing-room?"

"Pooh, pooh--there I'm as quiet as the water in yonder ditch--but when
anything goes against the grain, when--how shall I explain it to you,
without similes?"

"Go on."

"For instance, when I am obliged to see