and on ours was the whole press of boats let out
from the lock, surging heavily forward.

Alb shouted something in Dutch. "I'm saying that the only thing is for
one to give way, and let the other go by in advance, not both try to
strain through together," he explained, when I anxiously demanded to
know what was happening.

Both men shook their heads, and grumbled, while from behind rose a Babel
of cries and adjurations.

"They won't," said Alb. "They say that they will never give way to each
other. They would smash their boats first. If anything happens to part
them they won't mind, because it will be fate, and neither one will have
given up for the other. Meanwhile, they say they're sorry, but they
won't move, and the rest of us must fare the best we can."

"Can't the lock-keeper do anything?" I asked.

"He can swear." Alb smiled; and I believe there was something in him
that sympathized with the two obstinate brutes.

"For goodness' sake tell them we'll give each one a hundred--no, a
thousand--gulden, if necessary, if only they'll agree as to which is to
yield, and move out of our road."

"I'll tell them," said Brederode, dubiously; and a few words passed
between the three.

"I knew what they'd answer," he announced, in a moment. "They say they
won't do it for a million. 'Every man has his price,' is a proverb that
doesn't count with Dutchmen, where principles are concerned. Now, I'm
going to try and force a way, but I'm afraid 'Mascotte' hasn't force
enough, and if not, it's all up, for here comes MacNairne."

I looked back and saw my uncle-in-law picking his way toward us from
boat to barge, from barge to lighter. He had lost his hat in that
argument of which I had not seen the end, but he had not lost his
determination, and at his present rate he would reach us in about two
minutes.

[Illustration: _At his present rate he would reach us in about two
minutes_]

Suddenly Alb put on full speed ahead, and gallantly little "Mascotte"
rammed her dainty nose between the two black and bulky barges. But her
strength did not match her courage. She got only a pinching for her
pains, and, as Alb exclaimed, we were caught.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I've done all I could, and don't see what I can
do more, short of knocking poor MacNairne on the head with a pole."

"You've been a brick, and I won't forget it," said I. A strange coolness
had come upon me with the knowledge that the worst was inevitable. I
felt that