eward is neither here nor there, but I don't mind showing you old
Dunck's craft, if you will come along with me."

Thus saying, the sailor, getting up, put his hands in his pockets, and
led the way along the quay. On one side it was bordered by high houses,
with curious gables; the floors projecting one beyond the other, and
little terraces and balconies and excrescences of all sorts, carved and
painted in gay colours, and cranes and beams, with blocks and ropes
hanging from their ends. On the other side appeared a forest of masts,
yards, and rigging, rising out of vessels of all shapes and sizes, in
apparently such inextricable confusion that it seemed impossible they
should ever get free of each other, and float independently on the
ocean. On the opposite side was an old castle with four towers, looking
very glum and gloomy; and more vessels and boats below it, leaving the
centre of the river tolerably clear for other craft to pass up and down.
The sailor rolled along with an independent air, not looking to see
whether those he had offered to guide were following him; now and then,
when passing an old shipmate it might be, or other nautical
acquaintance, he gave a nod of recognition without taking his hands from
his pockets or his pipe from his mouth.

"Who have you got in tow there?" asked one or two.

"Don't know: they want to see the skipper, Jan Dunck, and I'm piloting
them to where his galiot lies."

"They look remarkably green, but they'll be done considerably brown
before old Dunck lands them," he said in an under tone, so that the
Count and Baron did not hear him. As they were going along the sailor
stopped suddenly, and pointed to a black-whiskered man, wearing a
tarpaulin hat on his head, with high boots, and a flushing coat.

"There's the skipper, Jan Dunck, and there's his craft just off the
shore. I'll tell him what you want, and wish you a good voyage," said
the seaman, who then went up to the skipper.

"If they pay for their passage, and do not complain of the roughness of
the sea, or blame me for it, I'll take them," said the skipper, eyeing
the Count and the Baron as he spoke.

The arrangement was soon concluded.

"But you promised that I should reward the sailor," observed the Count
to his friend.

"I will return him our profuse thanks. Such will be the most simple and
economical way of paying the debt," answered the Baron; and turning to
the seaman, he said, politely lifting his hat,