"Eight, right; a n.o.ble principle," said the Baron. "I shall be able to enjoy a second supper with you when we return." And the Baron acting as guide, they set off for the quay where, to the best of his belief, he had left the sober sailor. Wonderful to relate, the sober sailor was there, waiting patiently, smoking his pipe with his arms folded, a picture of resignation. As far as could be perceived in the gloom of night, he did not appear to be much surprised at hearing of the accident which had befallen the sloop.
"Cheer up, Mynheers, we will find her," he said. "She"s not likely to have got far. There"s a bit of a current round that point, but after that the tide runs slowly, and she will have been brought up by some other vessel across which she"s been driven, or is still floating slowly out towards the Zuyder Zee." Saying this, he bent to his oars and pulled away down the ca.n.a.l. The lights glittered from the upper windows of many houses, showing that the inhabitants were not yet in bed, and the tall masts of numerous vessels towered up towards the sky, with yards across seen indistinctly in the gloom of night. The moon shone forth and shed her pale light on the smooth surface of the water, which looked bright and silvery, very different to the hue it is apt to wear in the daytime.
"If I were not so hungry and so anxious about our portmanteaus and umbrellas I should enjoy this," observed the Count.
"I do enjoy it," said the Baron, stroking his waistcoat. "As to our portmanteaus and umbrellas, my mind is greatly relieved by the a.s.surances of our friend the sober sailor here."
"I hope you are so with sufficient reason," observed the Count, who was in low spirits, as people often are when they are hungry.
"I told you so, I told you so; there"s the sloop," shouted the Baron.
"I am right, am I not, friend mariner?"
"Ja, ja, that"s she," answered the sober sailor, pulling towards the sloop, which was, as he had a.s.serted would be the case, floating leisurely along, like a snail on a garden path. He soon pulled up alongside, when the Count and the Baron scrambled on board. The tipsy skipper and his tipsy crew were still both fast asleep in their respective bunks.
"Now I consider that it would be right and proper to let them float on after we have recovered our portmanteaus and umbrellas," said the Baron.
"It would be more kind and charitable to anchor the sloop, or to take her alongside the nearest vessel we can reach," said the Count. "What do you say, worthy mariner?"
"We cannot anchor her, because my messmate slipped her cable and left the anchor in the ca.n.a.l," answered the sober sailor. "But we will tow her alongside another vessel and make her fast, where she will remain safe enough till I have conveyed you, Mynheers, and your luggage to the sh.o.r.e. We sailors make it a point of honour to look after our shipmates when they get overtaken by too abundant potations of schiedam or any other liquor."
"But you do not mean to say that you ever get overtaken?" asked the Count.
"Not unless it is my turn to enjoy that pleasure," answered the sober sailor. "It was my turn to-night to keep sober, as it would never do for the whole crew to get drunk together." Having said this, the sober sailor stepped into the boat, and towed the sloop up to a vessel which lay conveniently near. Having secured her, and informed her skipper and crew of the condition of his skipper and crew, he pulled away up to the landing-place, carrying the Count and Baron, with their portmanteaus and umbrellas. They were not long, after landing, in finding a hotel, on entering which the first words the Baron uttered were, "Supper for two."
"I thought that you had supped," remarked the Count.
"My dear Count, do you think I should be so uncourteous as not to eat a second to keep you company?" said the Baron, smiling blandly. They, were soon seated at table, and the Baron did ample justice to his second supper.
CHAPTER EIGHT.
"Then here we are in Amsterdam," said the Count to the Baron, as they sauntered out of their hotel after breakfast. "I wonder whether all these people have come to do us honour on hearing of our arrival."
"They probably have not heard of our arrival," said the Baron. "They are, as you will perceive, market people, and others who have come in these boats surrounding the landing-slips;" and he pointed across the crowd which thronged the quay to the ca.n.a.l, on which boats of various sizes were coming and going, mostly laden with cheeses and other merchandise to supply the city of Amsterdam.
"Ah, yes; you are probably correct," remarked the Count. "Now let us set forth and inspect this great city."
A guide, who had noticed them leaving the hotel, offered his services to conduct them through the streets, and to give them the information which as strangers they would naturally require.
"Thank you," said the Baron, who, thinking him a very polite gentleman, made him a bow. "We accept your services."
"Come then, Mynheers, come then," said the guide; "with me as your conductor, you will see more of the city in a few hours than you would by yourselves in as many days. You will understand that Amsterdam is the largest town in Holland," he commenced. "It is built in the shape of a crescent, or horse-shoe, and is situated at the influx of the Amstel into the Y; the latter, though it is called a river, is in reality an arm of the Zuyder Zee, and forms our harbour; hence the name of Amsterdam--the dam of the Amstel, or Amster. Now I will lead you to the docks, close to which we now are--they are capable of accommodating a thousand vessels; the locks, you will observe, are of enormous strength, which it is necessary they should be, so as to resist the inroads of the sea. We take great precautions to keep it out, and with good reason, for our streets are much below its level, and were it to break in they would be completely flooded. Our city is nine miles in circ.u.mference, while ca.n.a.ls of various sizes intersect it in every direction, and divide it into ninety islands, which are connected by means of nearly three hundred bridges. A broad moat, or ca.n.a.l, also runs almost completely round it, a portion of which is flanked with avenues of elms, which have a handsome and picturesque appearance. Our houses are constructed on foundations of piles, and as some of these give way, either destroyed by worms or becoming rotten by age, the houses are apt to lean about in various directions, which artists say look very picturesque, but are not so pleasant to the inhabitants, who, however, live on in them, hoping that, as they have been in that condition for some years, they will not tumble down just yet. Now and then they do come down, but people get accustomed to that sort of thing.
Many years ago our great corn magazine sank into the mud, the piles on which it stood being unable to support the weight of three thousand five hundred tons of grain, which were stored in the building at that time.
You will observe the style of the houses, many of them built of Dutch brickwork, which foreigners justly admire. Our ca.n.a.ls are not quite as deep as they should be, although we have dredging machines constantly engaged in removing the mud, which is thus apt to be stirred about in an unpleasant manner as every barge comes up, and strangers declare that an excessively offensive odour rises from them, especially on hot days; but we who live here are not inconvenienced, in fact we rather doubt the statement; there may be a smell, but it surely cannot be an unpleasant one."
"As to that," answered the Count, holding his pocket-handkerchief to his nose, "it must depend upon what people consider unpleasant; for my part, I prefer the scent of orange blossoms or eau de Cologne to it."
The guide, who seemed anxious to fulfil his promise of enabling them to see the city in a brief period of time, trotted them along the quays at a rapid rate, pointing out to them the great d.y.k.e which prevents the Zuyder Zee from washing into the town; then he conducted them up one street and down another, over bridges and along banks of ca.n.a.ls innumerable, till they had not the slightest idea of where they were going or what they were seeing. He poured out his information also at so rapid a rate that the Count could with difficulty make the shortest notes. Museums and picture galleries of various sorts were pointed out to them.
"You will be able to see those by and by," observed the guide; "at present my object is to exhibit to you the outside of the city."
The whole day was expended in viewing the city, and even then a large portion remained to be seen, which they flattered themselves they should do on another occasion. They then, pretty well tired, returned to their hotel.
"Now, Count, in what direction shall we next bend our steps?" asked the Baron. "If we were at sea the wind might settle that point, but on sh.o.r.e the matter is more complicated."
"Come with me, Mynheers, to Zaandam," said a gentleman, who was seated opposite to them at table and heard the Baron"s question.
"I suppose there"s something to be seen there?" the Baron asked.
"Certainly there is something to be seen," said the gentleman. "There"s the house of Peter the Great, who lived there while he was working as a shipwright, and there are windmills."
"There are a good many windmills in other parts of Holland," observed the Count.
"But the windmills of Zaandam beat them all hollow," answered the gentleman. "There are no fewer than four hundred in and about Zaandam, employed in all sorts of labour: some grind corn, some saw timber, others crush rape-seed, while others again drain the land, or reduce stones to powder, or chop tobacco into snuff, or grind colours for the painter. Those of Zaandam are of all shapes and descriptions, and many of them are of an immense size--the largest in the world."
"We will go to Zaandam," said the Count; and the next morning he and the Baron accompanied their new friend, whom they took care to ascertain was not a professional guide, down to the quay, whence a steamboat was about to start to their intended destination.
In little more than an hour having crossed the waters of the Y, they landed at Zaandam. They were not disappointed with respect to the windmills, which, as there was a fair breeze, seemed to be all very busy, the sails whirling round and round and doing their duty with all earnestness, as duty ought to be done. When the wind slackened it was not their fault if they did not go as fast. They could distinguish the flour mills, which generally had a balcony running round half-way up; but the draining mills were smaller, and had no balcony. Zaandam, however, did not look like a town, it more resembled a straggling village; the houses--small, painted a bright green, with red roofs-- peeping out on the banks of the river amid the trees in all directions.
Suddenly the Count began whirling his arms about in a way which made the Baron fancy he had gone mad.
"What is the matter?" he exclaimed.
"I cannot help it," answered the Count, still looking up at the windmills. "How they go round and round and round in all directions; it is enough to turn one into a windmill. I feel inclined already to become one."
"Don"t, don"t!" cried the Baron, seizing his friend"s arms and holding them down. "Don"t look at those whirlabout sails, but come let us go and see the house of Peter the Great, which was the chief object of our visit to this place."
"Peter the Great, ah, I have heard of him; how long did he live here?"
asked the Count.
"Not very long," said their friend. "Zaandam was in those days a great ship-building place, and he came here to instruct himself in the art; but the people found out who he was, and shocked his modesty by staring him out of countenance, so he went away to Amsterdam, where among the crowd he was less likely to be discovered."
Proceeding along a ca.n.a.l bordered by a few dilapidated houses, they arrived before a zinc building, which has been erected to cover the hut in which Peter the Great lived. An ancient individual, who had charge of it, admitted them within the outside covering.
"Peter of Russia was a great man, there"s no doubt about that," observed the Baron. "But from the appearance of this edifice he must have been contented with a very inferior style of accommodation; for there appear to be but two small rooms, and every plank of the walls is out of the perpendicular, and every beam far off the horizontal, while the floors resemble the surface of a troubled sea."
The hut was constructed of wood, old planks nailed roughly together, some running in one direction, some in another. As the travellers entered they rolled about as if they had suddenly become giddy. The furniture too was limited; it consisted of a couple of curiously shaped old chairs, a table and a bedstead of antique form and simple construction. The walls were adorned with portraits of Peter the Great and his wife, who certainly, judging by her picture, was no beauty.
"I observe that a number of persons of celebrity have carved their names on the walls; I think we ought to do the same, to let it be known to all the world, who come after us, that we have been here," said the Baron, taking out his penknife. "Here are some names, great persons undoubtedly, and, as far as I can judge, English; let me see, one is Jones, the other is Smith, and a third Brown--we will add ours."
"Have the kindness to put mine, then," said the Count. "I should wish to appear in such excellent company, but carving on wood is not one of my talents."
The Baron accordingly with the tip of his penknife wrote, or rather carved, "Count Funnibos and Baron Stilkin," putting the date of their visit. Well satisfied with his performance, he took another glance round the room, about which the Count had been staggering, looking at the various corners and crevices, as if he expected to find the Great Peter in one of them, sawing or planing, or perhaps supping off a bowl of porridge. The ancient keeper informed them that the building was erected by a former Queen of Holland--a Princess of Russia--to prevent this relic of her ancestor being swept off the face of the earth. On one of the walls was a marble tablet, placed there by the Emperor Alexander to commemorate a visit he paid to the hut, which showed to the Count and Baron that another great person had been there before them.
CHAPTER NINE.