"In this square, also, were kindled the fires of the Inquisition by the Duke of Alva, at the command of Philip II., and thousands perished in the barbarous persecution.

"The rebellious spirit of the people of Ghent was very trying to Charles V. He demanded of them an enormous sum of money, to enable him to carry on a war against France. The burghers put the town in a state of defence, and privately offered their allegiance to Francis I. of France. He declined the offer, and maliciously informed Charles of it, who marched an army through France to punish the treason of his subjects in Ghent. Commanding this army in person, he reached the gates of the city, and surrounded its walls, before the people were aware of his presence.

"The utmost consternation prevailed in the town, and messengers were sent to the emperor to sue for forgiveness. Without granting any terms to the rebels, he imperiously demanded that the gates should be opened. His command was obeyed, and the Spanish army marched into the town. The Duke of Alva suggested that the entire city should be destroyed; but Charles satisfied himself with beheading fourteen of the ringleaders of the rebellion, and confiscating their property. The principal officers of the city were ordered to appear before the emperor barefoot and bare-headed, clothed in black gowns, and with halters around their necks. They were compelled to sue for pardon on their knees. As an additional penalty, the magistrates were forbidden to appear in public without a halter on their necks, as a badge of their ignominy. The rope was worn; but, in the lapse of time, it became a silken cord, tied in a true-lover's knot, and was regarded as an ornament which the magistrate could not dispense with.

"In 1570, when the people attempted to shake off the Spanish rule, the citadel or fortress at the Porte d'Anvers (which has been demolished) was besieged by the Prince of Orange. It was gallantly defended by the Spaniards for a long time; but, at last, three thousand of the burghers of Ghent, clothed in white shirts as a distinguishing mark, assaulted the citadel. Their scaling-ladders were not long enough, and the attack failed. On the following day, while preparations were in progress to renew the attack, the Spaniards capitulated. When suitable terms had been agreed upon, the garrison, only one hundred and fifty in number, marched out under the command of a woman. It appeared then that the governor of the fortress was absent, and that the Spaniards had been commanded, during the protracted siege, by his wife."

This was rather a long speech to be made in the public square; but the boys, interested in the professor's remarks, gathered closely around him; and it is not probable that many of the Ghenters who had been attracted to the square by the unwonted scene understood a word that was said. The carriages next proceeded to the Beguinage, a kind of convent or nunnery. The establishment is a little town by itself, with streets, squares, and gates, and is surrounded by a wall and moat. In the centre there is a church. The houses are occupied by the Beguines, a sisterhood of nuns in Belgium which has six thousand members. They are bound by no vows, as ordinary nuns are, and may therefore return to the world at pleasure, marry, and come back in their widowhood. They act as Sisters of Charity in the city, and some of them are wealthy; but all wear the garb of the order. There are about six hundred of them in this colony. On the door of each house is the name of the patron saint of the occupant.

The drive was continued through some of the principal streets of Ghent; and, within a few moments of the appointed time, the students were again seated in the railway carriages. The road to Bruges extends along the side of the canal from Ostend to Ghent, which has high banks, lined nearly all the way with tall trees. The view from the windows of the train was interesting rather than picturesque. In an hour the train stopped at its destination; but it was after six o'clock, and there was no time for Professor Mapps to make any long speeches, though Bruges had a history hardly less exciting than that of Ghent. It takes its name from the great number of bridges which it contains; for the place, like Ghent, is cut up by canals.

Bruges was once a rich and powerful city, reputed to contain two hundred thousand inhabitants; but, like nearly all the Flemish cities, it has declined from its former grandeur, and now contains only fifty-one thousand, nearly a third of whom are paupers. In the fifteenth century, the Dukes of Burgundy held their court here; it had an immense foreign commerce, and its warehouses were filled with the silks and woollens manufactured in the vicinity. All this has passed away, the town has the aspect of a ruined place, and its lofty and elegant public buildings—the remains of former prosperity—seem to mock its present desolation.

Fine houses may be hired in Bruges at a rent of from sixty to a hundred dollars a year. It is said that a house has not been built in the city for a century, for the reason that its diminishing inhabitants were more than supplied by those which had once accommodated four times its present population. The place is dead and dull. The streets are nearly empty. A man-servant finds himself upon a hundred dollars a year, and a French teacher charges twenty cents an hour for his services.

The Church of Notre Dame contains the tombs of Charles the Bold and of his daughter Mary. La Chapelle du Saint Sang takes its name from several drops of the blood of the Savior, which are said to have been brought from the Holy Land. They were presented to the town, and are kept in a richly jewelled shrine, which is exhibited to visitors at half a franc a head. The famous order of the Knights of the Golden Fleece, so often mentioned by Motley, whose emblems are seen in many of the churches of Belgium, was established at Bruges, by Philip the Good, Duke of Burgundy. The weavers of Flanders had carried the manufacture of wool to a degree of perfection which added greatly to the prosperity of the country, and the Golden Fleece was a fitting symbol of the industry of the people, as well as a compliment to their skill.

The great point of interest in Bruges to the students of the squadron was "The Belfry of Bruges," which Longfellow has celebrated in his poem of that name, and in the "Carillon." It is a beautiful Gothic tower, on an antique building known as Les Halles, or The Market, a part of which was intended for a meat market, and a part for a cloth hall. The spire, or belfry, is two hundred and ninety feet high. It contains the finest set of chimes in Europe. They play four times an hour, and their music is almost incessant. The machinery by which they are operated consists of an immense metallic cylinder, or drum, covered all over with cogs and pins, like that in a music-box. As this drum turns by the action of a huge weight, the pins strike against the levers that communicate with the bells. For half an hour on Sunday they are played by hand, as at Antwerp.

The praise bestowed upon the chimes seemed to the students to be well merited. There is nothing more touching and beautiful than the music of these bells. The boys could not help taking in the inspiration they imparted; and when it transpired that Mr. Modelle, the professor of elocution, had a copy of Longfellow in his pocket, they almost unanimously insisted that the poems relating to the scene should be read. They gathered around him, the circle closely flanked by the men, women, and children of the dull old town, who had apparently been roused from their lethargy by the advent of the young Americans. In his deep bass tones he read the Carillon first.

"In the ancient town of Bruges, In the quaint old Flemish city, As the evening shades descended, Low and loud, and sweetly blended, Low at times and loud at times, And changing like a poet's rhymes, Rang the beautiful wild chimes From the belfry in the market Of the ancient town of Bruges."

The students listened with almost breathless interest till the last line of the "Belfry" was read; there was something so grand and beautiful in the poem itself, as the images of the past are brought up,—

"I beheld the pageants, splendid, That adorned those days of old: Stately dames like queens attended, Knights who bore the Fleece of Gold,"—

and something in the association of the living lines with the real belfry of Bruges before them, that the impression was one to be remembered for years.

After a hasty walk through a couple of the ancient streets of the city, the students returned to the railroad station, and the train started for Brussels, a ride of about two hours from Bruges. It was half past nine when they arrived at the capital of Belgium. The party were greeted by Mr. Fluxion, who had been sent direct from Antwerp to make arrangements for their stay over night. Captain Kendall, his officers and crew, were sent to the Hotel Royal in the Rue Fosse aux Loups. It was a small hotel, but very nice and comfortable. Mr. Molenschot, the proprietor, spoke English, but he appeared to be the only person in the house who could do so. He was very polite and attentive to the students, and spoke familiarly and pleasantly to them about "my hotel."

Mr. Fluxion himself had a faculty for keeping a hotel, and understood precisely what tired travellers wanted when they came in late in the evening; and he had ordered, in addition to the the complet, the bif-stek and pomme de terre. The boys were as hungry as wolves, and the solid part of the entertainment was very inviting. Each dish of beefsteak was covered over with nicely browned fried potatoes. In a few moments there was hardly a vestige of the feast remaining on the table.

The Young America's ship's company were quartered at the Hotel de l'Univers, and the Hotel de Suede, so that the party was separated; and Paul was rather glad of it, because there were some belonging to the ship who were not influenced by the motives which prevailed in the Josephine. He could control his crew, even without the aid of Mr. Fluxion, who, with several of the professors also lodged at the Royal.

They were a jolly party at the supper table; and as none of the waiters spoke a word of English, there was a great deal of fun made in giving their orders; but everybody was remarkably good-natured, including the waiters themselves.

"Waiter," called Lynch, who, as a general rule, was not guilty of knowing much about any of his studies, "bring me the bur."

The servant took no notice of him.

"Call him a garcon" said Grossbeck.

"Garcon!" shouted Lynch.

"Monsieur," replied the man.

"Bring me the bur."

"You might as well call for a Canada thistle," laughed Duncan, who was one of the best French scholars in the Josephine.

"I want some butter; I have eaten up all the bif-stek, and all the pomme de terres, and now I want some bread and butter. These fellows don't understand their own language."

"M'apportez du beurre," added Duncan.

"Oui, oui, oui!" exclaimed the waiter, producing the required article.

"That's the idea," replied Lynch; "that man's improving. But this beurre is so fresh I can't eat it; I want some salt."

"Call for it, then," laughed Duncan.

"I will; here's a go. Garcon, mapperty sellier!"

"Good!" roared Duncan. "If we had a saddle of mutton for supper, I should suppose you would want what you called for."

"I want the salt."

"I thought you did; and that's the reason why you called for a saddler."

"I didn't call for any saddler. I said sellier."

"Precisely so; and that is a saddler."

"What shall I say?"

"Sel."

"Sel; sellier. Well, I knew there was a sell about it somewhere."

"Precisely; but you were sold. I advise you not to make any long speeches in French."

"You may bet your life I shall not," replied Lynch.

"Just mention the thing you want in one word; then you won't confuse garcon's intellect by flooding it with ideas."

"Garcon—sel," added Lynch, acting upon this excellent advice.

The waiter brought the sel, and nobody was sold this time.

"I think I shall pick up the French language in time," added Lynch, encouraged by his success.

"Perhaps you will, but the Hotel Royal will have crumbled to dust before that happy event occurs."

There was any quantity of blunders made at the table, and some of the students had nearly choked themselves to death with laughing at them, and at the blank looks of the waiters when spoken to in a tongue which Mr. Fluxion declared sounded more like Low Dutch than decent French. Mr. Molenschot laughed too, and intimated that "my hotel" had never been so lively before.

"What now, Captain Kendall?" said Mr. Fluxion, when the supper and the blunders had ended.

"My officers and crew wish to take a little walk," replied Paul.

"What! to-night?. It is after ten o'clock."

"They wish to see how 'Belgium's capital' looks in the evening."

"Of course you can do as you think best; but I advise you to be cautious with them. They may get into trouble in a strange city, or get lost. If some of them can't speak French any better than they did at supper, they will have to go to the watch-house, because they can't ask the way back."

"They can say Hotel Royal. None of my crew have ever got into trouble since the ship's company was organized," added Paul, who wanted to go out himself, and could not deny to others what he took himself.

The permission was given to walk till eleven o'clock, but the boys were admonished to behave properly, and to return punctually. Lynch and Grossbeck, who still clung together as fast friends, left the hotel in company.

"This is jolly—isn't it?" said Lynch, as they passed out of the Rue Fosse aux Loups into the Place de la Monnaie, a small square in front of the Theatre Royal.

"For less than an hour," added Grossbeck, gloomily.

"We don't understand French, and so we can't tell what time it is," laughed Lynch.

"That won't go down. We were told to be back at eleven."

"But if we don't know what time it is, we can't be tied to the bell-rope."

"No use; the captain knows the boom from the bobstay, and if he isn't a Knight of the Golden Fleece, you can't pull wool over his eyes. You know he put McDougal through this morning."

"Well, come along. We'll have a good time while it does last," replied Lynch, apparently appalled by recalling the summary treatment of his shipmate.

"Everybody seems to be having a good time here," said Grossbeck, as they passed a cafe, in front of which were a great number of small tables, at which gentlemen were drinking, smoking, and carrying on noisy conversation. "I don't see any reason why we should not. What are they drinking there?"

"Beer, or wine, I suppose," answered Lynch, as he led the way he knew not whither, turning to the left, because the street in that direction looked more lively than the others.

There was nothing to be seen, as most of the shops were closed; but they continued on their way till they came to a kind of arcade, a building which contained a broad passage-way, opening from the street, with a large number of little shops on either side.

The interior was brilliantly lighted, and most of the small stores were devoted to fancy goods and other showy articles. The young seamen entered the arcade, in which many people were promenading.

"They say this city is a second edition of Paris on a small scale," continued Lynch. "This is very well got up; but from what I have seen of the town, it looks like a one-horse city. The streets are not much wider than a cow-path."

"But they say it is like Paris," added Grossbeck.

"My eyes! there's a clock that speaks English! It is half past ten," exclaimed Lynch. "But I'm not going back to the Hotel Royal till I've had a little fun. There's a what-you-call-it, where they sell wine. Let's go in, and see what it's like."

The place indicated was a wine-shop, and the two boys entered, seating themselves at one of the little tables. The prompt waiter came to them, bowed and scraped, and flourished a napkin, and hinted that he would be happy to take their order.

"What will you have, Grossbeck?"

"I'll take a glass of wine."

"Let's see you take it!" laughed Lynch. "What shall we call for? I don't remember a word of French, now that I want to use it."

"Perhaps the garcon can speak English. Ask him."

"Ask him? What shall I say?"

"O, I know. Parlez-vous Angleterre?" added Grossbeck, turning to the waiter.

"Non, monsieur," replied the waiter, who did not speak "England."

"O, confound it! What's the Dutch for wine?" demanded Lynch, impatiently.

"I know—eau de vie. Garcon, eau de vie," replied Grossbeck, confidently.

The waiter disappeared, and presently returned with a small decanter and two minute wine-glasses.

"I knew eau de vie would bring it," added Grossbeck, as he filled the little glasses.

"That's pretty strong wine," said Lynch, when he had swallowed the contents of the glass with a very wry face.

"That's so."

They looked about them till the clock indicated that it was time to start for the hotel; but they decided to repeat the dose from the decanter, and did so.

"That's the strongest wine I ever drank," said Grossbeck.

"How much is it?" asked Lynch.

"Let's see—combien?"

"Un franc cinquante centimes," replied the waiter, after he had glanced at a gauge on the decanter which indicated the quantity of the fiery fluid that had been consumed.

Neither of them could understand the answer, and Grossbeck handed the garcon a franc. The man shook his head, and held out his hand for more. Lynch gave him another franc, and he returned a half franc piece.

"Pour boire?" said the man with a winning smile.

"Poor bwar! Who's he?" demanded Lynch, in whose head the strong water was producing its effect. "He means 'poor boy.' I say, Grossbeck, does he think I'm—I'm sizzled? I feel so myself. Come, let's go."

They rose, and moved in a serpentine path to the door.

"Pour boire?" repeated the garcon, following them.

"That's what's the matter. I'm a poor boy! I was a fool to drink more'n one nip of your camphene," hickuped Lynch. "Here, old fellow, here's a half of one of those francs. Don't say nothing more about it. I'm a poor boy, but I shall get over it."

The young tippler handed the half-franc piece to the waiter, who bowed, scraped, flourished his napkin, and fled.



CHAPTER XIII.

THREE CHEERS FOR THE KING OF BELGIUM.

"I say, Grossbeck, you and I are two bigger fools than Napoleon was when he went to Russia," said Lynch, as they reached the street again.

"That's so. 'There was a sound of revelry by night, and Belgium's capital'—got considerably mixed," replied Grossbeck, whose head was not quite so full as his companion's.

"What shall we do, my boy?" stammered Lynch. "That wine was nothing short of camphene. We shall be seen by the captain, and we shall both be sent to keep company with poor McDougal. We've lost our mess on the Josephine."

"Stiffen up, Lynch. Don't give way to it. What sort of a sailor are you, that can't bear two thimblefuls of wine?"

"That wine was camphene, I tell you. It feels just like a whole bunch of friction matches touched off at once in my stomach—that's so. I'm a poor boy and no mistake, Grossbeck."

Lynch suddenly stopped, and grasped his companion by the arm.

"What's the matter," demanded Grossbeck.

"It's no use for me to drink wine. The eau de vie carries too many guns for me. I'll tell you what I'm going to do. I'm going to get out of this scrape."

"So am I; but come along, or we shall be late."

"I'm going to join the temperance society, and never drink any more wine—not another drop of eau de vie for me."

Lynch evidently felt that he had got into trouble for nothing; that the satisfaction of drinking the firewater was very unsatisfactory in the end. He had sense enough left to see that disgrace and degradation awaited him, and he dreaded the prompt action of Captain Kendall, as exhibited in the case of McDougal. While still suffering from the effects of the tipple, he resolved to drink no more; but pledges made in the heat of intoxication are not the most hopeful ones.

The boosy youngsters worried along the street; but instead of turning to the right, into the Rue de la Monnaie, they went straight ahead, and were soon lost in a maze of narrow streets. They were conscious that they had gone astray, and looked in vain for the square in front of the Theatre Royal, which they had marked as an objective point. At last they came across a solitary policeman, who paused on his walk to observe their unsteady tramp.

"Hotel Royal?" said Grossbeck, addressing the officer.

"Oui," replied the man, pointing in the direction from which they had come, and leading the way himself.

In a few moments they reached the square they had missed, and Grossbeck recognized the flaming signs of a large clothing store, on the corner of the street in which the hotel was located.

"Thank you. I am very much obliged to you," said he to the policeman, as he pointed to the street.

"Oui," replied the officer, solemnly, though the grateful acknowledgments of the juvenile tippler were lost upon him, except so far as he could interpret them by the motions of the speaker.

"I feel meaner than Napoleon did after the battle of Waterloo," groaned Lynch.

"Stiffen up, now. Here's the hotel," added Grossbeck.

"Well, what shall we do? I can't walk straight, and my head spins round like a top," pleaded Lynch.

"Dry up. Starch your back-bone. Here comes a lot of the fellows."

"Who are they?" asked Lynch, trying to stiffen his back, and get the bearings of his head.

The party approaching proved to be half a dozen of "our fellows," who stopped, and immediately discovered the condition of the two hopefuls.

"I say, McKeon, can't you help us out?" said Grossbeck.

"Ay, ay; certainly we can," replied "our fellows," in concert, as they gathered closely around the inebriates, and, thus encircling them, marched into the hotel.

"Keep still, Lynch; don't say a word," whispered Grossbeck, as they entered the hall, effectually concealed from the observation of the officers by their companions.

Mr. Fluxion stood at the door, and checked off the names of the party as they entered, on the list he held, so as to be sure that all had come in. It was not an easy thing for Lynch to ascend three flights of stairs; but his companions supported him, and contrived to screen him from the officers, till they reached the room where they were to sleep. The door was closed and fastened, and Grossbeck gratefully acknowledged the kindness of his friends in getting them out of the scrape.

"What did you drink?" asked McKeon.

"Wine," answered the tippler.

"What kind of wine?"

"I don't know—eau de vie."

"Eau de vie!" exclaimed Blount, whose knowledge of French was above the average of that of "our fellows."

"That's what we called for," added Grossbeck.

"And it was as strong as camphene," said Lynch, as he tumbled into bed.

"It was brandy!" laughed Blount.

The boys all laughed at the blunder, and Lynch repeated his pledge not to drink any strong liquors, wine, or beer again. Grossbeck defended his conduct by saying that he had heard a great deal about the light wines of Europe, which people drank like water, and he did not suppose a couple of thimblefuls of it would hurt them.

"Call for vin rouge next time," laughed Blount; "that means red wine, or claret. It isn't much stronger than water."

"No, sir!" ejaculated Lynch, springing up in bed, though with much difficulty; "I shall not call for red wine, or anything of the sort. From this time, henceforth and forevermore, I'm a temperance man. I won't drink anything but water, and only a little of that. I feel cheaper than Napoleon when he landed on the Island of St. Helena."

The party turned in, and in a short time all of them, tired out by the fatigues of the day, were fast asleep. Mr. Fluxion, before half past eleven, had reported all the students in the house. At six o'clock in the morning all hands were turned out, and several squads of them were exploring the city on their own account. But it was not till after breakfast that a systematic excursion was organized. A number of omnibuses and one-horse barouches, or voitures, had been engaged by Mr. Fluxion, and, seated in these, the ship's company proceeded to the Grande Place, which is a large square, with the Hotel de Ville on one side, and the old Palace, or Broodhuis, on the other side.

The Hotel de Ville is one of the most splendid municipal palaces in the Low Countries, where these structures are always magnificent specimens of architecture. The spire, of open work, in Gothic style, is three hundred and sixty-four feet high. The vane, which is a gilded copper figure of St. Michael, is seventeen feet high. The building was erected in the fifteenth century.

By the attention of the governor of Antwerp, several officials were in readiness to escort the visitors through the city; and at their beck the doors of public buildings and churches, and the gates of palaces and gardens, were thrown open. The party entered the Hotel de Ville, and in one of its large rooms an opportunity was afforded for Mr. Mapps to expatiate a little on the city of Brussels.

"Young gentlemen, what is the French name of this city?" asked the professor, as he took the stand occupied by the chief magistrate of the city.

"Bruxelles," responded many of the boys; for they had seen it often enough upon signs and in newspapers to know it.

"Unlike many of the cities of Belgium which we have before visited, Brussels is a growing place. Its population has doubled in twenty years, and now numbers about three hundred thousand. It is situated on both sides of the little River Senne, one hundred and fifty miles from Paris,—which it imitates and resembles in some degree,—and twenty-seven miles from Antwerp. It is built partly on a hill; and the city consists of two portions, called the upper and the lower town, the latter being the older part, and containing all the objects of historic interest. In the upper town are the Park, the king's palace, and the public offices. The streets are irregular, narrow, and crooked; but the city is surrounded by a broad highway, having different names in different parts, as the Boulevard de Waterloo, the Boulevard de Flandre, and the Boulevard d'Anvers.

"The oldest part of the city is in the vicinity of this square—the Grande Place, in which the Counts Egmont and Horn were beheaded by the Duke of Alva. You saw their statues in the square. In this city, in an old palace burned in 1733, Charles V. abdicated in favor of his son Philip II. Here, also, was drawn up that celebrated document called the Request. It was a petition to Margaret of Parma, in favor of the Protestants of the Low Countries, of which you read in Motley. It was presented to her in the Hotel de Cuylembourg, where a prison now stands. She was somewhat alarmed at the appearance of the petitioners; and one of her courtiers told her, in a whisper, not to be annoyed by the 'gueux,' or beggars. The leader of the confederates, hearing of this, regarded the epithet bestowed upon those who were defending the liberties of their country as an honorable appellation, and the petitioners adopted it as their war-cry. In the evening, some of them appeared in front of the palace with beggars' wallets on their backs, and porringers in their hands, and drank as a toast, 'Success to the Gueux!' This trivial incident proved to be one of the leading events of the revolution which deprived Spain of the Low Countries; for it kindled the enthusiasm of the people, and urged them on in the redemption of their country. In Motley you will find a full history of the 'Beggars.' Alva was so incensed at the turn of this affair, that he levelled to the ground the building in which the confederates met.

"Brussels has long been celebrated for its manufactures of lace and carpets; but while it still retains its prestige in the former, it has been outdone in the latter. The finest and most valuable lace is made here and in some of the neighboring cities, and is literally worth its weight in gold. The most expensive kind costs two hundred francs (or forty dollars) a yard."

Mr. Mapps finished his remarks for the present, and the ships' company returned to the carriages, and were driven to the Place des Martyrs, where there is a large monument erected to the memory of three hundred Belgians, who fell in the Revolution of 1830, which made Belgium an independent kingdom. From this point they passed into the broad Boulevards to the Botanical Gardens, which, however, they did not enter, but continued up the hill to the Park, a large enclosure, beautifully laid out, and ornamented with statues. In one corner of it is the Theatre du Parc, while in the square which surrounds it are located the king's palace, the palace of the Prince of Orange, the Chamber of Representatives, and other public buildings. The students visited the king's palace;—but his majesty usually resides at Laeken, and the establishment represents royalty on a small scale—and the Chamber of Representatives, in which the two branches of the Belgian legislature convene. In the latter, a woman showed them the Chambers, pointing out some fine pictures, including portraits of the king and queen, and the Battle of Waterloo, explaining everything in French.

"Where shall I find the Minister of Foreign Affairs, Mr. Stoute?" asked Professor Hamblin, nervous and excited at the near prospect of standing face to face before the great man of Belgium, and of being complimented upon his great educational works.

"I don't know; but his office must be somewhere in this vicinity," replied the fat professor, laughing at the excitement of his associate.

One of the officials in charge of the party volunteered to conduct them to the apartment of the distinguished revolutionist.

"You must come with me, Mr. Stoute," said the professor of Greek. "If it turns out that Mr. Rogier don't speak English, I should be in an unfortunate dilemma."

"I will go with you with pleasure," laughed Mr. Stoute, who was rather desirous of witnessing the interview.

They were conducted to the apartments of the distinguished minister, and formally and ceremoniously ushered into his presence. He bowed, and regarded his visitors with cool indifference.

"Whom have I the honor to address?" asked the minister, in good English, when Mr. Hamblin had made his best bow.

"I am Professor Hamblin, from the United States, at your service," replied the learned gentleman, who seemed to believe that this announcement would bring the Belgian statesman to his feet, if not to his arms—the professor's.

"Ah, indeed!" replied the minister, blankly.

"I had the pleasure of receiving a note from you at Antwerp," added the American celebrity, annoyed at the coolness of the revolutionist.

"A note from me!" exclaimed the Belgian celebrity, curtly. "I never saw you or heard of you before in my life."

Mr. Hamblin produced the formidable envelope, and drew therefrom the epistle of sweet savor, which had been such a comfort to him in his troubles. He presented it to the minister, satisfied that this would recall the matter to his recollection.

"This note is not from me. I did not write it," said the Belgian, when he had glanced hastily at the page.

"Really, I beg your excellency's pardon; but it is signed with your name."

"It is a forgery—what you Americans call a practical joke, probably. I haven't been in Antwerp for months."

There was an apparent convulsion in the fat frame of Mr. Stoute, who was evidently struggling to suppress his mirth, or keep it within decent limits.

"I am very sorry, sir," stammered Mr. Hamblin.

"The letter is an imposition, sir. I never heard of you before in my life," added the great Belgian, tossing the note back to the professor, with an impatience which indicated that he never wished to see him again.

That vision had exploded—no invitation to dinner, none to visit the king, none to accept the position of Librarian of the Greek portion of the Royal Library, whose only duty was to consist in drawing his salary. Mr. Hamblin bowed, and so far conformed to his original programme as to back out of the office. Doubtless he came to the conclusion, in his disgust, that Belgium was a "one-horse" kingdom, and that royalty was a humbug.

The vision exploded; so did the mirth of Mr. Stoute, as soon as the door of the department of foreign affairs had closed behind him. He laughed till every ounce of his adipose frame quivered.

"What are you laughing at, Mr. Stoute?" demanded the disappointed suitor for Belgian honors.

"You will excuse me, sir; but really I can't help it," choked the fat professor.

"I really don't see anything to laugh at," added Mr. Hamblin, indignantly.

"I was intensely amused at the shuffling indifference of Monsieur Rogier. He evidently regards himself as a very great man, not to be disturbed by insignificant Greek scholars."

"What do you mean by insignificant, Mr. Stoute?" asked the lean professor, solemnly.

"Why, the minister had never even heard of you, of your Greek Grammar, Greek Reader, and Anabasis. Such is fame!" chuckled the good-natured instructor.

"'What we Americans call a practical joke,' were the words of the minister. Do you regard this as a joke, Mr. Stoute?" said the learned gentleman, very seriously.

"I suppose it is a joke to all, except the victim."

"Do you know anything about the author of this senseless piece of imposition?"

"Certainly not. I had not the least idea that the ponderous document was not genuine till his excellency pronounced it a forgery."

"Who could have done this?"

"Some of the students, probably."

"Probably," replied the professor, taking the note from his pocket again, and carefully scanning the handwriting. "I have no doubt it was done by one of the students. It is another of their infamous tricks—the fourth that has been put upon me. Do the other instructors suffer in this manner?"

"I have not heard of any other victims, and I am inclined to think you are the only one."

"I do not see why I should be selected as the recipient of these silly and ridiculous, not to say wicked, tricks. A rope falls on my head, I am pitched into the river, drenched with dirty water, and now sent on a fool's errand to the king's chief minister! I don't understand why I am the only sufferer."

Professor Stoute did understand why Mr. Hamblin had been so frequently sacrificed, but he had a habit of minding his own business, and did not venture to give an opinion on the subject, which probably would not have been well received. What the fat professor knew all the boys in the Josephine, and most of those in the Young America, knew—that the cold, stiff, haughty, tyrannical, overbearing manner of the lean professor had made him exceedingly unpopular; that the students disliked him even to the degree of hating him; that if he had ever had any influence with them, he had lost it by his ridiculous sternness and stupid precision. Mr. Hamblin did not know this, but everybody else did.

"Don't you know this writing, Mr. Stoute?" demanded the irate man of Greek roots, after an attentive study of the note.

"I do not."

"I do!" added Mr. Hamblin, decidedly.

"You are fortunate then. If we can unearth the culprit, he will be severely punished."

"I am not so clear on that point. This note was written by Captain Kendall."

"Impossible!" exclaimed Mr. Stoute, seizing the note, and examining more attentively than he had done before the writing it contained.

It did look like Paul's writing. It was his style, and there were not more than two students in the Josephine who could have composed the French in the document. Those two were Paul and Duncan. But Mr. Stoute was unwilling to believe that the captain would resort to such a proceeding.

"I shall charge him with it," added Mr. Hamblin.

"I advise you not to do it without more evidence than you have yet obtained," said Mr. Stoute, seriously.

"After we return to the vessel I shall probably be able to obtain some proof," continued Mr. Hamblin, as he put the letter in his pocket.

When they went to look for the rest of the party, they found them forming a line in the square. Present with Mr. Lowington was his excellency, the governor of Antwerp, who had just invited the company to visit the palace gardens. In even lines, with the officers in their proper places, the procession marched across the park and through the gates, at which a file of Belgian soldiers presented arms to them. In the garden they formed a line on one of the walks. Near the palace, walking to and fro, was an old gentleman, but still erect and manly, with a glittering decoration on his breast. Several other persons, most of them dressed in uniform, or decked with orders, were standing near the old gentleman.

Presently the governor of Antwerp approached the ship's company, attended by an officer to whom Mr. Lowington was introduced. The three then walked towards the old gentleman, to whom the principal was presented. The venerable personage bowed gracefully, but did not offer to shake hands, or indulge in any republican familiarities.

"That's the King of Belgium," said Dr. Winstock to Paul, as the principal and the venerable person approached the line, followed by the officials.

"The king!" exclaimed Paul, taken all aback by the announcement; and this was the first time he had ever looked upon a live monarch. "He seems just like any other man; what shall we do?"

"Give him three Yankee cheers," replied the doctor.

Captain Kendall spoke to the flag-officer and to Captain Haven.

"Three cheers for his majesty the King of Belgium!" called Flag-officer Gordon.

They were given with a will, but the "tiger" was omitted in deference to royalty. King Leopold gracefully and graciously acknowledged the salute by touching his hat, and then walked up and down the line, inspecting the ship's company. Mr. Lowington, hat in hand, walked just behind him. His majesty then took position in front of the line, and the students came to the conclusion that he was going to make a speech; but he did not: he spoke to Mr. Lowington again, who went to the line and called out the flag-officer and the two captains.

"You are to be presented to the king; don't speak unless you are asked a question, and don't turn your back to him," said Mr. Lowington in a low tone.

Paul was startled at the idea of being presented to King Leopold, but he followed his companions, and in due time was with them handed over to the gentleman who had presented the principal, and who proved to be the grand chamberlain.

"Captain Kendall, commander of the Josephine," said the gentleman, when Paul's turn came.

Paul bowed, blushing up to the eyes, when he became conscious that the royal gaze was fixed upon him; but he had self-possession enough not to overdo the matter, and his salute was as dignified and graceful as that of majesty itself. The king smiled when he saw the fine form and handsome face of the junior captain.

"Do you command a ship?" asked his majesty, surveying the young officer from head to foot, with a pleasant smile on his face.

"I command the Josephine, your majesty; she is not a ship, but a topsail schooner of one hundred and sixty tons," replied Paul, satisfied that kings speak just like other men.

"You are very young to command a vessel of that size," added the king.

Paul bowed, but made no reply, as no question was asked.

"Can you manage her in a gale?" asked his majesty.

"I think I can, your majesty; at least I have done so within a week on the coast of your majesty's dominions."

The king actually laughed at this confident reply. As he bowed slightly, Paul, for the first time in his life, backed out, and continued to back till he reached his station at the head of the Josephines. The king then bowed to the whole line, and retired. As he did so, Flag-officer Gordon called for three more cheers. The king turned and bowed again. This time the snapper, in the form of the tiger, was applied, which so astonished the royal personage that he turned once more, laughed, and bowed.

Professor Hamblin looked very nervous and discontented. "That boy" had been presented to the king, and he, who had compiled a Greek Grammar, a Greek Reader, and edited the Anabasis, had been "left out in the cold." If it was possible for a great mind like that of the savant to harbor such a vicious feeling as envy, he certainly envied Paul Kendall his brief interview with the King of the Belgians.

The party retired from the garden, and returned to the carriages. It appeared in explanation of this unexpected honor, that the governor of Antwerp had waited on the king that day, and informed him casually of the presence of the students of the academy squadron in the capital, and he had expressed a desire to see them in a very informal manner. Mr. Lowington was no "flunky," and never sought admission to the presence of royalty, for himself or his pupils.

As the procession of omnibuses and fiacres moved down to the lower town, they were thrown into great excitement by seeing many of the streets and houses dressed with flags and other devices. On inquiring at the hotel, Mr. Molenschot informed Paul that it was a saint's day, and that a religious procession would march through some of the principal streets.

"Go down into the Boulevard d'Anvers, and you will have a good chance to see the show," added the landlord.

"What is it?"

"O, it is really very fine and very grand; but go at once, or you will be too late."

The students were permitted to go to the street indicated, and they had hardly secured a good place before they heard martial music, playing a solemn dirge.



CHAPTER XIV.

THE VICE-PRINCIPAL.



A crowd of people preceded the procession, as it came out of the Rue de Laeken into the Boulevard d'Anvers. At the head of it marched the military band, and the cortege was flanked by soldiers of the Belgian army, indicating that the government felt an interest in the display. The students were on the tiptoe of excitement at the novel spectacle; and Paul asked his friend, the doctor, a great many questions which he could not answer. The composition and order of the procession were very nearly as follows:—

A man bearing a cross on a pole. Banner. Little girls dressed in white, with flowers in their hands. Little boys. Banner. Image of the Virgin borne by four men. A lamb, very white and clean, led by a string, and decorated with red ribbons, with boys on each side, carrying various emblems. Young ladies in white. Another image of the Virgin. About twenty priests, in white muslin robes, and in satin robes trimmed with gold. Two boys with censers. Silken canopy, borne by four men, under which walked two ecclesiastics, in full costume one bearing the Host.

The canopy was surrounded by men carrying lanterns with silver framework, and of peculiar construction. The censers, as they were swung backward and forward by the bearers, emitted a dense smoke, which rose far above the procession, and marked its progress.

As the cortege approached the spot where the boys stood, the band ceased playing, and the priests began to chant the mass to the accompaniment of a single base horn. The procession moved very slowly, and the rich voices of the priests, mingling with the heavy notes of the horn, produced an effect solemn and impressive even on the minds of those whose religious education did not prepare them to appreciate such a display.

As the host approached, hundreds of the crowd in the street knelt reverently upon the pavement, and bowed their heads before the sacred emblems. Women and children strewed the path of the procession with flowers, green branches, or, in the absence of these, with handfuls of colored paper cut into minute pieces. Indeed, the street, in places, was literally covered with these votive offerings of the people, who had no other means of testifying their reverence for the ceremonial.

The line filed into the Rue Longue Neuve, which was extensively decorated with flags, streamers, and other national and religious emblems. In many windows burned a line of candles, in some cases before a crucifix. In this street the procession halted, and several of the priests moved up an arch forming the entrance to one of the better residences. In this recess an altar had been erected, and was covered with all the emblems of the Catholic faith. The priests knelt before it, and chanted a portion of the service, and then returned to the procession, which continued its march up the street; the flowers and bits of colored paper filling the air before it, and the people still reverently bowing down to the host. The solemn and impressive chanting of the priests kindled the pious enthusiasm of the multitude, and as the line passed the cafes and estaminets, or smoking houses, the pipe, the drink, and the gay jest were abandoned, to pay homage to the faith of the nation.

The faces of the little children and the white-robed maidens in the procession presented an aspect of religious enthusiasm, solemn but not sad, which young people seldom wear. Everybody seemed to be carried away by the excitement of the scene; all hats were removed, and the utmost respect was paid to the representatives and to the emblems of the church in the line.

As Paul and his friend followed the spectacle up the street, they saw a Beguine nun kneeling at the altar in the arch, wringing her hands in an ecstasy of devotion, while several women were regarding her with an admiring reverence, which seemed to indicate that they envied her the enjoyment of the heavenly raptures which thrilled her.

"It is very solemn—isn't it?" said Paul, when they had passed out of hearing of the procession.

"It is really moving, even while you have no sympathy with the church which makes these displays."

"I think I was never more moved in my life than I was by the chanting of those priests. But what is the occasion of all this?"

"I don't know; except that this is some saint's day—St. James, I believe; but there is something of this kind in Brussels nearly every Sunday; and I have seen several minor displays in the streets in the evening."

"I am surprised to see how much respect the people pay to their religion. If they have these displays often, I should think they would become stale."

"It appears they do not. I have a great deal more consideration and respect for these exhibitions in Belgium than in some other parts of Europe, for the reason that all religions enjoy the utmost toleration here. The people are almost exclusively Catholic, and yet they permit Protestants and Jews entire freedom in the exercise of their religion, and pay them their fair share of the government money."

At two o'clock dinner was ready at the Hotel Royal; and it need not be added that the boys also were ready. Half an hour later the whole party had been loaded into stage-coaches, which, in an hour and a half, set them down on the battle-field of Waterloo. For two hours they wandered about the field, or rather up and down the two principal roads which pass through it. On the highest ground of the field, where there is a mound two hundred feet high, surmounted by the Belgic Lion, Mr. Mapps gave a brief account of the great battle, pointing out the spots of the greatest interest, including the road by which Blucher arrived. The subject is too vast for these pages; but it will be alluded to in the summary of French history in a subsequent volume.

There are several monuments, and columns, and obelisks on the battle-field, which mark the fall of distinguished men or their burial-places. Beneath the great mound are buried thousands of all the armies represented in this historical conflict, which settled, for a time, the fate of Europe. The field is the harvest-ground of a multitude of beggars, relic-hunters, and guides, who bore visitors almost to death with old buttons, musty rags, flattened bullets, bones, and other articles, which they produce as keepsakes of the battle. The stock of these things probably failed long ago, and the traveller may well be suspicious of the genuineness of anything which may be offered to him by these leeches.

At six the stages conveyed the tourists to the Groenendael Station, on the railway to Namur, where they arrived after a ride of an hour, express time. This place is the "Belgian Sheffield," being largely engaged in the manufacturing of arms, cutlery, and hardware. Its vicinity contains rich mines of iron, coal, and marble. Many battles and sieges have occurred in this place; and Don John of Austria, sent by Philip II. to subdue the country, was buried here. The city contains a population of twenty-six thousand, and is beautifully located at the junction of the Meuse and Sambre Rivers. The train stopped here but an hour; and the students roamed through some of the principal streets, which, however, were too much like those of places they had visited before to excite any especial interest.

Two hours later, they arrived at Liege, which was to be the eastern limit of the excursion. As before, Mr. Fluxion had preceded them, and engaged accommodations at the hotels. The students were very tired, and not disposed to explore the city of the bishops that night. Before breakfast on the following morning, Mr. Mapps gave them the history and other interesting particulars relating to the city, when they had assembled in the old citadel of St. Walburg, which overlooks the town.

"Liege, whose Flemish name is Luik, contains one hundred and nine thousand inhabitants, who are principally concerned in the various manufactures of iron, and especially in the making of cannon and arms," said the professor. "I observed to you before, that this part of the country bears some resemblance to New England. As you have an opportunity to observe for yourselves, the scenery is very fine, but rather of the pleasant and quiet description.

"The province of Liege, of which this city is the capital, was formerly governed by a line of bishops; and those of you who have read Scott's Quentin Durward will remember William de la Marck, the Wild Boar of Ardennes, whose adventures are located in this vicinity. In the tenth century, the bishops of Liege were made sovereigns by the German emperor, and received the name of Prince-Bishops. But the burghers of Liege, like those of Ghent, had a will and a way of their own, and frequently rebelled against the bishops, in support of their rights; and Charles the Bold took the rulers under his protection. Still they persisted in revolting, and Charles destroyed the city, as a punishment, in 1468. Fifteen years later, William de la Marck murdered the prince-bishop, in order to obtain the mitre-crown for his son. This was the beginning of the insurrection, in which, as I have related to you before, Charles the Bold compelled the king of France to march against the rebels.

"The place was subsequently captured by the French; the bishops were expelled at the commencement of the French Revolution, but were restored by the Austrians two years later. In 1794 it was annexed to France; but after the battle of Waterloo it was incorporated into the new kingdom of the Netherlands. In 1830 the old spirit of the burghers of Liege revived, and they were among the foremost promoters of the Belgian Revolution."

The students descended from the heights, whose fortresses command the city, took an outside view of the Hotel de Ville, several churches, and other public buildings, and breakfasted at nine. Though they had by no means exhausted the city, the time would not permit a further examination. The train was ready for them; and their next stop was at Louvain, which, like Ghent and Bruges, had dwindled down from a population of two hundred thousand to thirty-three thousand. It contains a magnificent town hall, decorated in the most elaborate style.

From Louvain the party hurried on to Mechlin, or Malines, a picturesque old city, still famous for its fine lace. It is about the size of Louvain, and, like that, presents a deserted appearance, being only the shadow of its former greatness. Its principal object of interest to the tourist is the Cathedral of St. Romuald, a structure of the fifteenth century, and, like the great churches at Cologne and Antwerp, still unfinished. It was built with money obtained by the sale of the pope's indulgences, which, happily, "gave out" at last. Its spire, which was to have been six hundred and forty feet high, remains incomplete, at little more than half this height, which, however, is only eighteen feet less than the cross on St. Paul's, in London. The church is an immense structure, said to cover nearly two acres of ground. It is the cathedral of the Belgian archbishop, or primate.

"There, Paul, we have finished Belgium," said Dr. Winstock, as the train started for Antwerp.

"I am glad of it; for I am tired of sight-seeing. It seems to me now that I have no desire to see another Cathedral, Hotel de Ville, or Grande Place," replied Paul, languidly, as he settled himself back in his seat.

"A new country will wake you up," laughed the doctor. "I suppose we shall be in Rotterdam to-morrow."

"I hope so, though I don't know but I should like blue water better than being shut up in these rivers and canals."

"You will get blue water enough before the season is ended."

In half an hour from Malines, the train reached Antwerp. Mr. Fluxion had arrived before; and there were two tugs at the Quai Vandyck, which had been employed to tow the vessels down the river. They conveyed the students on board, and the orders for sailing were given immediately.

Mr. Hamblin, who had not yet recovered from his disappointment, hastened to the cabin. He commenced a diligent search for papers written by the captain, in order to compare their penmanship with that of the forged note. As Mr. Stoute had been compelled to acknowledge, there was a general resemblance between the handwriting of Paul and that of the unknown scribbler of the note. Though a minute comparison failed to establish any closer connection between them, the professor wanted to make out his point; and it was not difficult for him to find a particular similarity.

Paul was busy on deck, getting the Josephine under weigh, and Mr. Hamblin had the cabin to himself for his investigation. The stamp on the paper of the fictitious note had already excited his attention, and he took the liberty to enter Paul's state-room, in search of some like it. He opened the upper drawer of the bureau, which formed a writing-table when the front was dropped. The first object that attracted his attention was a package of paper of the size, and apparently of the quality, he sought. He picked up a quire of it, and a smile of vindictive satisfaction played upon his wrinkled face, as he discovered upon it the identical stamp of the forged note.

His case was made out, and great was his joy. Paul would certainly be disgraced and removed for such an outrage as a practical joke upon one of the most dignified instructors in the squadron. We must do Mr. Hamblin the justice to say, that he did not wish to prove any more than he believed to be true; but it is very easy for a prejudiced person to believe a great deal against one who has offended him. A student who was not fond of Greek could not be a very noble, or even a very upright one; and he was confident that, when Paul's true character became known, when he was no longer stimulated to great deeds by his high office, he would prove to be a very different person from what he now appeared to be.

Mr. Hamblin confiscated a half quire of the paper, and secured several French exercises written by Captain Kendall, to be used as evidence against him. He then searched the vessel for similar paper in the possession of other students, but found none. He went on deck, to ascertain what was to be done; for Mr. Lowington had assured him he would not be any longer obliged to sail in the same vessel with the obnoxious student. A boat from the ship was alongside, and Mr. Fluxion had just stepped on board. The boatswain was hoisting his baggage out of the boat, which indicated that he was to remain.

Paul was reading an order just handed to him by Mr. Fluxion, which appeared to settle the difficulty between him and the learned professor. The order was in these words:—

Mr. James E. Fluxion is hereby appointed vice-principal of the academy squadron, and will be obeyed and respected accordingly.

Mr. Fluxion is also hereby instructed temporarily to discharge the duties of Professor of Greek, Latin, and Mathematics, on board of the Josephine.

R. LOWINGTON, Principal.

The new vice-principal handed a note to Mr. Hamblin as he came upon deck, in which he was directed to repair, with his baggage, on board of the ship. The learned gentleman was not quite satisfied with this arrangement. It looked a little ominous.

"Have you no order for Captain Kendall, Mr. Fluxion?" he asked, as the vice-principal waited for him to read his letter.

"I have given him an order from the principal."

"Is he not directed to go on board of the ship?"

"He is not."

"I have preferred charges against him, and I was led to believe that he would be suspended," added Mr. Hamblin, who was not quite sure that he was not to be suspended himself.

"No order to that effect was sent by me," replied Mr. Fluxion. "You will excuse me, but the vessel is about to get under weigh."

"I am not satisfied with these proceedings. I complained to Mr. Lowington that it was impossible for me to instruct my classes while they were under the influence of Captain Kendall. No notice appears to have been taken of my charges."

"I think some notice has been taken of them. You are directed to report to the principal, with your baggage, on board of the ship."

"Am I to be punished instead of that obstinate and impudent pupil?" demanded the professor.

"I have nothing to say about it, Mr. Hamblin," added Mr. Fluxion, sharply. "If you are not going to the ship, we will weigh anchor and proceed on our voyage."

The professor went down into his state-room, and hastily packed his trunk, which was brought up and put in the boat by one of the stewards. The students watched these movements with the deepest interest, and they could hardly conceal their satisfaction when it was clear that the obnoxious instructor was going to leave the Josephine, "bag and baggage." There was a great deal of punching each other in the ribs, a great deal of half-suppressed chuckling, and a very decided inclination to give three cheers. A few of the more prudent ones checked any noisy demonstration; but the moment that Mr. Hamblin went over the side was a very joyous one.

The Josephine tripped her anchor, and, hugged by the steam-tug, stood down the river on her way to Rotterdam. Mr. Fluxion went below, and installed himself in the state-room vacated by Professor Hamblin. Mr. Stoute gave the vice-principal a hearty welcome; and it was soon evident that they were men who could cordially agree. Paul was delighted with the change; for if there was any one in the squadron, besides the principal and the doctor, for whom he had a high regard and a thorough respect, it was Mr. Fluxion. He was a sailor from the sole of his foot to the crown of his head. He had visited all the maritime ports of Europe, spoke half a dozen modern languages with facility, and was popular with the boys. He was a sharp disciplinarian, and the students found it difficult to outwit him. He knew all the tricks of sailors, and especially of man-of-war's men. He was the right hand man of Mr. Lowington, and the new arrangement, whereby the professor had been created vice-principal, and sent on board the consort, was to prevent the recurrence of such an incident as that which had imperilled her in the German Ocean during the squall.

Though Paul felt that his own powers were in some degree abridged by the presence of the new officer, whose authority, unlike that of the instructors before, extended to the vessel, and was equal to that of Mr. Lowington, he was now satisfied. A competent person was present, with whom he could share the responsibility of the navigation of the vessel in case of an emergency. He was on the best of terms with Mr. Fluxion, and he was happier than he had been before since the Josephine sailed from Hull. Leaving him to the enjoyment of the new order of things, we will follow Mr. Hamblin on board of the ship.

The barge ran up alongside, and the professor's trunk was hoisted on board. As soon as the students saw the barge and the baggage, which indicated that the obnoxious old gentleman had been transferred to the Young America, a murmur of disapprobation went through the ship.

"I say, Wilton, we are to have that old humbug in the ship!" exclaimed Perth, the chief of the Red Cross Knights, who, however, had changed their name to the Knights of the Golden Fleece.

"That's so," replied Wilton, who had contrived to keep out of the brig nearly a week. "He has his plunder with him."

"We must do as the Josephines did," added Perth, in a whisper.

"What's that?"

"Get rid of him. This shall be the first job of the Knights of the Golden Fleece. McDougal, who is a capital fellow, told me all about how the fellows in the Josephine managed it."

"I heard they had been hazing him."

"That they did," laughed Perth. "There is fun in the thing. If the old fossil was a decent fellow, of course we wouldn't disturb him. Just as soon as he made a row on board, all the fellows took the captain's part. Morgan dropped him into the river, by drawing out the nail that held the boat-hook in the wood; Blount dropped a coil of signal halyards on his head; and McDougal ducked him with the hose-pipe; and the old fellow got a bogus letter from Antwerp, inviting him to visit some of those kings, or something of that sort."

"Who sent the letter?" asked Wilton, greatly interested, as he always was, in anything of this kind.

"Nobody knows; at least McDougal says so. When we were at Brussels, the old Greek went to see some big fellow there,—the king or some minister,—and the big bug wouldn't look at him. One of our fellows heard Stoute telling the doctor about it; and Fatty was so tickled that he shook just like a freshly-baked cup-custard. There goes the boatswain's whistle. We are off now," added Perth, as he sprang to his place at the capstan.

The anchor had before been hove short, and in a few moments the Young America, also in the warm embrace of a powerful steam-tug, moved down the river.

"All hands in the rigging!" shouted the first lieutenant, as the ship approached the Victoria and Albert.

The students ran up the shrouds like monkeys, and stationed themselves in the rigging.

"Three cheers for the Queen of England," called Goodwin; and they were given with becoming zeal.

A lady dressed in black, who was walking the promenade deck, near the dining saloon, bowed and waved her handkerchief. That lady was Queen Victoria. The Josephine at this moment came up on the other side, and delivered her round of cheers. Mr. Fluxion carried the intelligence on board that the queen had returned, and that the yacht would sail that evening; and all hands were on the lookout for her majesty. She bowed and waved her handkerchief to the Josephines, as she had to the students in the ship.

She was not very distinctly seen by the curious students in either vessel, and appeared like a stout "dumpy" little woman, in no respect different from any other lady. In spite of this fact, it was voted to be a big thing to have seen the Queen of England; and the king of the little realm of Belgium sank into insignificance, compared with her.

"She don't look like a queen," said Captain Haven to Mr. Mapps, who stood next to him.

"Did you expect to see her with her crown and coronation robes on, and with the sceptre in her hand?" laughed the professor.

"Not exactly; but I was not prepared to see a lady so much like any well-dressed woman we meet in the street."

"Let me see," said Mr. Mapps, glancing at the shore, intent upon renewing his favorite topic, "Fort St. Laurent must have been here; and this is where Van Speyk went down, or rather went up."

"Who was Van Speyk?"

"He was the commander of a Dutch gunboat, in the revolution of 1830. His vessel wouldn't come about—what do you call it?"

"Missed stays, sir," replied Captain Haven.

"Missed stays, and got aground right under the guns of the fort. He was ordered to surrender, but refused to do so, though there was not the least chance for him to make a successful resistance. He was determined that the rebels should not have his vessel, and, rushing down into the powder-magazine, he said his prayers, and coolly laid his lighted cigar on an open barrel of powder. An explosion followed which shook the whole city. Twenty-eight, out of thirty-one on board, including the heroic captain, were killed—blown up into the air. A monument to his memory was erected by the side of that of De Ruiter, and the government pledged itself that a vessel in the Dutch navy should always bear the name of Van Speyk."

"He was a good fellow," replied the captain, warmly.



CHAPTER XV.

THE PROFESSOR'S CHARGE.

"I say, Perth, I've been a good boy for more than a week, and I begin to be ashamed of myself for my want of activity," said Wilton, who had seated himself on the bowsprit-cap, while his companion was reclining on the flying jib. "I shall spoil if there is not something going on soon."

"We'll go on that cruise in the Josephine just as soon as we can bring things round right," added Perth.

"It's no use to think of that while we are moored fifty or a hundred miles from the sea," continued Wilton.

"Of course not. Rotterdam is away up the river, with a bar at its mouth having only seven feet of water on it at low tide. You must go over that, or by the canal, which runs through an island. Do you know where we go next?"

"I heard some of the fellows say we were going to the southward soon."

"If that's so I should suppose we shall go into Dieppe or Havre," said Perth.

"I heard Havre mentioned. How will that suit?"

"First rate!" exclaimed the embryo captain of the proposed prize, for the Knights depended upon Perth for the navigation of the Josephine, when their long-cherished plan should be put in execution.

"I suppose we shall not stay in Holland more than a week."

"No, I hope not. Lowington is afraid we shall all get sick if we stay here long."

"Havre is just the place for us. It has an open harbor, and we can go to sea from there without any difficulty. Besides, there's another thing that will favor us."

"What's that?" asked Wilton.

"All the fellows will go to Paris when the ship is there, and we can have a first-rate chance to operate while they are gone."

"I don't know about that. Our fellows will all want to go to Paris with the rest. I want to go there myself," suggested Wilton.

"We may as well give it up, then," added Perth.

"We must see Paris, anyhow."

"I'll tell you what we can do. We can run round through the Straits of Gibraltar, and up the Mediterranean to Marseilles. From there we can all go to Paris.".

"That will be a long cruise," said Wilton.

"No matter for that. The longer the better."

"How far is it?"

"Not less than two thousand miles. We could go in ten or fifteen days," added Perth, warming up as he anticipated the pleasure of the runaway cruise. "After we get into the Mediterranean, we can run along the coast of Spain, go into port as often as we like, and have a first-rate time generally."

"But don't you suppose Lowington will follow us?"

"No matter if he does. We can beat the Young America on a wind from Monday morning till Saturday night. If we find the ship is overhauling us, all we have to do is to hug the wind, and we can give her the slip."

"We haven't money enough to pay the expenses of such a trip," said Wilton.

"There's plenty of money in the Josephine. But we don't need much. The vessel has a year's provisions in her hold."

"Salt junk and hard tack," suggested Wilton, who was not partial to this diet.

"That will do very well while we are at sea; and when we get to Spain we can buy things cheap. Besides, our fellows are going to raise some money on their own account," said Perth, in a whisper.

"How's that?" asked the other, curiously.

"Every one of the Knights wrote home to have their folks send them some money at Paris,—or every one but you and Munroe; and the game was played out with you and him, for you had some sent to you in London."

"Yes; and Lowington got it," replied Wilton in disgust.

"We fixed it all right. We shall find loose change enough on board of the Josephine to keep us happy till we get to Paris, by the way of Marseilles, and then we shall be rotten with stamps."

"But don't you expect to be caught some time or other?" inquired Wilton, whose experience on a former occasion seemed to point in this direction.

"No matter if we are. We must be ready for that; but we will be jolly while we have things our own way."

"It's no use to talk about it yet," added Wilton, with a yawn, for the wild scheme seemed so far off to him that he could not enter into the spirit of it yet.

"It won't be more than a week or ten days before we shall be ready to make a strike. You know we must all cut up so as to be left on board."

"Yes, and some one will be left on board with us, just as it happened at Cowes."

"It won't be Fluxion, anyhow; for he has been transferred to the Josephine, and we can come it over any other of the professors. However, we must feel our way, and the first thing we have to do is to get left on board."

"Humph! That's easy enough," said Wilton, who had never found any difficulty in being left behind, or in being condemned to the brig.

"We must make a sure thing of it next time; but it won't do to run away with a boat again. Hush up! There comes that old stick-in-the-mud from the Josephine," added Perth, lowering his voice to a whisper.

The gentleman thus discourteously alluded to was Mr. Hamblin,who had climbed upon the topgallant forecastle for the purpose of obtaining a view of the region through which the vessel was passing. As the two boys were far out on the bowsprit, over the water, he did not venture to approach any nearer to them; yet the excessive prudence which the Knights practised required them to keep silence whenever there was a possibility that a word might be overheard by the uninitiated.

"I wish he would come up here," whispered Wilton, from the corner of his mouth.

"Why?"

"I would contrive some way to spill him into the drink," chuckled the ever-willing conspirator.

Mr. Hamblin was then cool and self-possessed, and he did not venture out upon the treacherous spar, and the entangling rigging, so that the wretch on the cap had no opportunity to give him a second bath in the dirty Scheldt. The learned gentleman was looking for the site of the Duke of Parma's Bridge, but he couldn't find it, and presently retired. He was not much interested in the Spanish operations in Flanders, though he felt it his duty to see a spot so noted in history—it was so effective, before a class of students, to be able to say he had seen the place alluded to in the text-book. He was, in fact, more concerned to know what Mr. Lowington's decision was, and he was waiting impatiently for an interview with him.

"The old hunks is too mean for the Josephines, and he has been quartered upon us!" exclaimed Wilton, as the professor descended to the main deck. "The fellows in the consort say he is as grouty as a mud turtle, and as crabbed as an owl at noonday. He snubs every one that makes a blunder, and rips at the class half the time."

"They say Lowington don't like him much better than the fellows do," added Perth.

It would be difficult to explain how any of the students had reached this conclusion; but it is certain that boys understand their guardians and instructors much better than the latter generally suppose.

"Perth, I think we might as well have our liberty stopped for serving out Old Crabs, as for anything else," suggested Wilton.

"I'm willing; the Knights will do that job handsomely, you may bet your life."

"But we musn't get caught too soon."

"We work in the dark, and we can do the thing as well as the Josephines did."

"Let's study up something at once, and put him through a course of sprouts. I don't believe in tolerating a professor who was too mean for the Josephine," replied Wilton, shaking his head, as though a personal indignity had been put upon him.

"All right; we will be ready as soon as he is. What's the row on deck?" continued Perth, rising from his seat, as a group of students gathered in the rigging, and on such elevations as would enable them to see over the bulwarks.

"Only one of Mapps's long yarns," answered Wilton.

"I'm going down to see what it is."

Perth went down, but Wilton had not the slightest interest in anything Mr. Mapps had to say; and he stretched himself on the jib, which had been cast loose ready to hoist, in case it should be required.

"This is the place where the Duke of Parma built his great bridge over the Scheldt," said the professor of history, as the students gathered around him.

"What did he build the bridge for?" asked one of them.

"In order to close the navigation of the river, and thus prevent the people of Antwerp from obtaining provisions, which came to them from Holland. When the Prince of Orange was assassinated, the Duke of Parma was making his preparations to subdue the country. By the death of the prince Holland was left without an effective leader, while in the duke Spain had one of the most accomplished and energetic generals of his age. Parma saw that Antwerp was the key to the situation, and he directed his whole attention to its capture.

"Before this time the Prince of Orange had realized that the loss of Antwerp would be the loss of the whole of the region which is now called Belgium; and when it was clear in what direction his skilful antagonist proposed to operate, he had advised the cutting of the dike on your right, which would lay the country under water, and open a channel of communication with Holland and Zealand by water. Unfortunately, his advice was disregarded till the duke had secured the dikes—a neglect which caused the loss of Antwerp, and with it the whole of Flanders.

"Though Parma had erected forts all along the banks of the river, the hardy Dutchmen ran the gantlet of them, and Antwerp was well supplied with food, the price being four times as much as in Holland. The people of the city, and even their leaders, ridiculed the idea of constructing the bridge, and took no steps to prevent it. The death of Orange caused a panic throughout the Netherlands, of which the shrewd Parma took advantage, and urged on his preparations. Though crippled in a measure by the neglect of his sovereign to supply him with men and money, the bridge was completed in the face of tremendous obstacles. It was twenty-four hundred feet long, and composed of thirty-two boats, or vessels, bound together by hawsers, cables, and beams. On each side was a wall of timbers, and on the structure guns were planted for its defence. A fort was erected at each end, heavily armed and manned.

"When the bridge was finished, the Antwerpers, who had laughed to scorn the idea of such a structure, found that their supplies were cut off. They made two attempts to break through the bridge, but failed in both, though in one of them they made a breach by exploding a fire-ship, and destroyed nearly a thousand Spanish soldiers, and Parma himself was knocked senseless. The attempt was not followed up with sufficient energy, and the Spaniard had time to repair the work. Antwerp, deprived of provisions by the skill and determination of the duke, was starved out and compelled to surrender. The country continued under the Spanish yoke, while the United Provinces maintained their independence."

The attentive audience which had gathered around the professor separated when he had finished the story. Some of them went aloft, to look over the dikes, and with their eyes followed the long lines of ditches and canals which extended into the interior.

In the mean time, Mr. Hamblin walked the deck very uneasily, waiting for an opportunity to discuss his position with the principal. The studies of the classes were to be resumed on the following day, and he was anxious to know what disposition was to be made of him. The ship was already provided with an excellent instructor in Greek and Latin; and only in the department of mathematics was there a vacancy, made by the transfer of Mr. Fluxion. It would be impossible for Mr. Hamblin to teach anything but Greek and Latin, though he had had some experience in the other branches.

Mr. Lowington seemed to be provokingly indifferent on the subject, and the professor was at last compelled to ask an interview, which, however, his dignity compelled him to defer till the ship was approaching Flushing, when the steamer was to leave her. The principal understood the character of the learned gentleman very well, and knew that any manifestation of anxiety on his own part would so inflate the vanity of the professor that he could do nothing with him; but he granted the interview when it was demanded.

"Mr. Lowington, I am rather desirous of knowing what is to be done," said the savant, when they were alone in the main cabin. "I find that Mr. Fluxion has been transferred to the place I filled on the Josephine. As you are aware, I was employed to teach Latin and Greek."

"I am aware of it," replied the principal, still appearing to be singularly indifferent in such a momentous crisis, as it seemed to Mr. Hamblin.

"I presume Mr. Fluxion is competent to teach the classics."

"Entirely competent. He was assigned, in the beginning, to the department of navigation, on account of his knowledge of practical seamanship. I don't know that he has any superior as a teacher of the classics."

Mr. Hamblin did not like this answer. The principal had no business to think that any one was his equal in the department of Greek and Latin, especially the former. Mr. Fluxion had never written a Greek Grammar, compiled a Greek Reader, and edited the Anabasis. The remark of the principal was very injudicious.

"Having been displaced from my position in the consort, I am rather desirous of knowing what is to be done with me," added the professor, choking down his disgust.

"I hope we shall be able to make an arrangement that will be satisfactory to you, at least for the present," replied the principal. "I have had some consultation with the instructors; and Mr. Paradyme has obligingly consented to take the department of mathematics in the ship for a time, and the Greek and Latin will be assigned to you."

"This arrangement is entirely satisfactory to me, Mr. Lowington," answered the professor, who was really delighted to obtain what was regarded as the senior professorship in the squadron; and it seemed quite fitting that the place should be given to him.

"This is only a temporary arrangement," added the principal, desirous to prevent any misunderstanding in the future.

This was not entirely satisfactory to Mr. Hamblin, who thought a thing so fitly done ought to be permanent.

"It is not pleasant for me to feel unsettled, and to be liable to a change at any time," said the professor. "I think I should prefer my place in the Josephine."

"Since you and the captain of the Josephine cannot agree, it does not appear to be practicable for you to remain there."

"Do you expect me to submit when insulted by a pupil, Mr. Lowington?" asked Mr. Hamblin, solemnly. "Will you allow a student to insult me?"

"I will neither allow a student to insult you, nor you to insult a student," replied the principal, with the most refreshing frankness.

"You will not allow me to insult a pupil!" exclaimed Mr. Hamblin.

"Certainly not."

"Do you think me capable of doing such a thing?"

"I am sorry to say you have proved that you are. You called one of them a puppy."

"But not until—"

"Excuse me, Mr. Hamblin. I do not purpose to discuss this matter again."

"May I ask if you sustain Mr. Kendall in his conduct towards me?"

"I do—fully."

"I am astonished, sir!"

"So am I—astonished that a gentleman of your learning and ability should so demean himself as to apply offensive epithets to his pupils. In the first place, you had no right to interfere with the discipline of the vessel; and when Captain Kendall told you that he commanded the Josephine, he said no more than the truth, and no more than the circumstances required him to say. In the second place, after you called him a puppy, and repeated the epithet, on the quarter-deck, I could not have blamed him if he had put you in irons. I approve his conduct fully. As you insulted him before his officers and crew, it was necessary that he should vindicate himself before them."

"I am afraid this vessel is no place for me," said the professor, with extreme disgust.

"I am afraid not, if you cannot observe the rules of the ship."

"I think I have observed the rules, sir. Mr. Kendall used every means in his power to annoy me; and still you sustain him in it. He knows that you are partial to him."

"I am not aware that Captain Kendall used any means to annoy you."

"I think you do not know that boy as well as I do. A rope was thrown down upon my head: the offence was suffered to pass unnoticed by Mr. Kendall. I was wilfully or carelessly thrown into the river; the captain did not consult me, but made his inquiries in private, and of course the culprits escaped."

"You were thrown into the river by your own carelessness, Mr. Hamblin. I saw the whole of it."

"So Mr. Kendall told me, in the most offensive tones. I do not complain of these things; I only mention them for the sequel. A boy drenched me with water; he begged my pardon on his knees, and I forgave him; but this offence the captain punishes in the most severe manner. Why? Apparently because I—the only sufferer—had forgiven the offender."

"It was necessary for the captain to put a stop to such pranks."

"But he did not use good judgment. McDougal explained the matter, and was exceedingly sorry."

"But he drenched you on purpose."

"Impossible, sir!"

The principal called one of the stewards, and sent for McDougal, who presently appeared. He had already confessed that the drenching was not an accident, and he repeated his statement, to the utter astonishment of the discomfited pedagogue. During the excursion on shore, some of the Josephines had told him that the trouble between Paul and the professor had been on his account; and he had made the confession in order to justify the captain, at whatever cost to himself. The spirited conduct of the young commander had filled the boys with admiration, and they were determined that he should not suffer, whoever else did.

"You did it on purpose—did you?" repeated the savant. "May I ask why you did it?"

"The fellows didn't like you, and were bound to get you out of the Josephine," replied McDougal, candidly.

"The fellows!" exclaimed Mr. Hamblin. "Were there others concerned in this iniquitous transaction?"

"More than a dozen of them."

"Did you write the letter to me which purported to come from the Belgian Minister of Foreign Affairs?"

"No, sir."

"Who did?"

"I don't know, sir."

"You don't know! Don't lie to me," said the professor, sternly.

"I do not."

"I know," added the learned gentleman, turning to the principal.

"McDougal, you say that a dozen boys were concerned in your proceedings. Who were they?"

"I would rather not tell, sir. I am willing to own up to all I did myself."

"You hear that, Mr. Lowington?" exclaimed the professor, with horror.

"Of course I hear it, Mr. Hamblin," replied the principal, impatiently. "You may leave, McDougal."

"Leave, sir!" ejaculated Mr. Hamblin.

"Go, McDougal;" and he went. "You said you knew who wrote the fictitious letter, sir."

"I do."

"Who was it?"

"Mr. Lowington, if that boy you sent away had told the whole truth, he would have confessed that Mr. Kendall was at the bottom of all these infamous proceedings."

"Captain Kendall!"

"Yes, sir; especially the plan to throw me into the water. When I demanded a boat, I mentioned the gig. It was refused. Why? Because the crew of the first cutter had been instructed to tip me overboard! It is very strange that no one but myself has been able to understand the vicious intentions of the boys."

"The gig is the captain's boat. The regulations require the captain to give the professors the first cutter," explained Mr. Lowington.

"I was not aware of it at the time; but I am satisfied that the crew of the first cutter had been instructed to pitch me into the river."

"If they were, you were very obliging to assist them as you did," added the principal. "But go on. Do you suppose Captain Kendall instructed McDougal to drench you with water?"

"Very likely."

"And then inflicted the severest punishment upon him for doing it? It is absurd! That was the third and last offence. The captain put an end to these tricks by his well-timed energy, and I am sure he had no part or lot in them. Do you think he got some one to write the letter to you?"

"No, sir; I think he did it himself," replied the professor, more calmly, as he came to what he considered his stronghold.

"I am not willing to believe it."

"I am prepared to prove it, sir."

"If Kendall has been guilty of such conduct,—if it can be shown that he wrote the letter, or that he knew of its being written,—I will not only suspend him, but I will reduce him to a common sailor, and confine him in the brig," said the principal, with no little agitation.

This strong speech looked like the dawn of reason to Mr. Hamblin, and he hastened to produce his evidence. The letter and several exercises written by Paul were first placed on the cabin table, to enable Mr. Lowington to compare the penmanship.

"There is a strong similarity in them, I grant; but they are all written in the common school-boy hand of the United States," added the principal.

"There is a stronger resemblance than that. The capital A's are the same; the small r's are identical."

"But the small a's are different."

"Doubtless he disguised his hand to some extent."

"Is this all the proof you have?" asked Mr. Lowington, somewhat relieved.

"No, sir," replied the professor, triumphantly, as he exhibited the paper he had taken from Paul's state-room, which was different from any he had been able to find in either vessel. "The paper is identical, you perceive."

"I see that it is."

"And no other student has such paper."

"The ship has provided paper for the students, but none like this," said Mr. Lowington, with a sigh.

"I think you will consider the case proved," added Mr. Hamblin, exultingly.

"By no means. Enough has been shown to warrant an inquiry. I will make an investigation immediately."

This was all Mr. Hamblin could ask; and, confident that Captain Kendall would be convicted, he left the cabin, as the captain of the Belgian steamer came in to settle for the towage.



CHAPTER XVI.

CAPTAIN KENDALL'S DEFENCE.

The squadron remained off Flushing long enough for Mr. Fluxion to visit the shore, and ascertain the condition of the "Wel tevreeden." The repairs were going on, but were not completed, and the cost of them could not yet be determined. The vice-principal, however, obtained such information in regard to the probable expense, as to enable him to make a final settlement. Captain Schimmelpennink came off to the Josephine with him on his return. It was certain that eleven hundred guilders would cover the whole expense of putting the galiot in perfect repair, and the balance of this sum was handed to the skipper.

If there ever was a grateful man in the world, that man was the captain of the "Wel tevreeden." In addition to the energetic speeches he made through the interpreter, he indulged in some very pretty and significant gesticulations, which the officers and crew could comprehend. The students were happy in the good deed they had done—quite as happy as the the skipper himself. In addition to the sum expended, there was five hundred and fifty-four guilders in the hands of the treasurer, which was to be used for some similar object when presented to them.

While Mr. Fluxion was absent at Flushing, Mr. Lowington had gone on board of the Josephine, and, taking Paul into his state-room, had exhibited the fictitious note to him, stating the charge made against him by Mr. Hamblin.

"I need not say, Captain Kendall, that this is a very serious charge," added the principal, solemnly.

"I think it is, sir," replied Paul, blushing deeply. "If you think I wrote that letter, sir, I hope you will do your duty."

"I certainly shall, though it break my heart."

"Whatever you do, sir, it will not alter my regard for you."

"I am already accused of partiality towards you, Captain Kendall," added Mr. Lowington. "I confess that I never had a pupil for whom I cherished so high an esteem and so warm a regard."

"Thank you, sir. You are now, as you always have been, very kind to me," replied Paul, hardly able to restrain the tears in which his emotions demanded expression.

"I must say that I deem this charge groundless and absurd; but I cannot explain it away. The writing in the note resembles yours in some respects; and the fact that the kind of paper on which the note is written is found in your possession alone has not been explained. Do you know anything about this note?"

"Nothing, sir; only that it came in the mail with the rest of the Josephine's letters."

"When did you get the paper which Mr. Hamblin found in your writing desk?"

"I bought it in Antwerp on Tuesday afternoon, when we went on shore," replied Paul, promptly.

"I shall be obliged to inquire further into this matter. You will have all hands called."

They left the state-room together, and the first lieutenant ordered the ship's company to be piped to quarters. Without any definite explanation, the principal directed all the students to bring their stock of stationery on deck, and they passed in review before him, exhibiting the quality of their paper. At the same time Mr. Stoute searched the steerage for any which might have been concealed. If any student had purchased paper in Antwerp, it was not of the kind on which the forged letter had been written.

"Young gentlemen," said Mr. Lowington, mounting his rostrum, "a practical joke is the stupidest thing in the world, when perpetrated at the expense of the feelings of others. Some one has put such a joke upon Mr. Hamblin, the very last person in the world to appreciate this species of humor. One of your number is charged with the act."

"The old lunatic has laid it to the captain," whispered Terrill, who thus interpreted the mysterious proceedings of the principal and Paul.

"The particular kind of paper on which the letter to Mr. Hamblin was written is found only in the possession of that one student," continued the principal, with an emotion he could not wholly conceal. "I desire, if any of you have any information in regard to the note, that you will communicate it at once."

Mr. Lowington paused, and the boys looked blankly at each other. Even to them, at that moment, a practical joke seemed to be the stupidest thing in the world. There was a tremendous sensation among them; but no one volunteered to give the desired information.

"Young gentlemen, although the evidence in my possession is not sufficient to condemn the student charged with the offence, it is enough to justify grave suspicions, and I shall be under the painful necessity of suspending him, and sending him on board of the ship for further examination."