Ramsay had but a minute or two to examine the various objects which decorated the room, particularly some very fine pictures, when Mynheer Van Krause made his appearance, with some open tablets in his hand and his pen across his mouth.  He was a very short man, with a respectable paunch, a very small head, quite bald, a keen blue eye, reddish but straight nose, and a very florid complexion.  There was nothing vulgar about his appearance, although his figure was against him.  His countenance was one of extreme frankness, mixed with considerable intelligence, and his whole manner gave you the idea of precision and calculation.

“You would—­tyfel—­I forgot my pen,” said the syndic, catching it as it fell out of his mouth.  “You would speak with me, mynheer?  To whom have I the pleasure of addressing myself?”

“These letters, sir,” replied Ramsay, “will inform you.”

Mynheer Van Krause laid his tablets on the table, putting his pen across to mark the leaf where he had them open, and taking the letters begged Ramsay to be seated.  He then took a chair, pulled a pair of hand-glasses out of his pocket, laid them on his knees, broke the seals, and falling back so as to recline, commenced reading.  As soon as he had finished the first letter, he put his glasses down from his eyes, and made a bow to Ramsay, folded the open letter the length of the sheet, took out his pencil, and on the outside wrote the date of the letter, the day of the month, name, and the name of the writer.  Having done this, he laid the first letter down on the table, took up the second, raised up his glasses, and performed the same duty towards it, and thus he continued until he had read the whole six; always, as he concluded each letter, making the same low bow to Ramsay which he had after the perusal of the first.  Ramsay, who was not a little tired of all this precision, at last fixed his eyes upon a Wouvermann which hung near him, and only took them off when he guessed the time of bowing to be at hand.

The last having been duly marked and numbered, Mynheer Van Krause turned to Ramsay, and said, “I am most happy, mynheer, to find under my roof a young gentleman so much recommended by many valuable friends; moreover, as these letters give me to understand, so warm a friend to our joint sovereign, and so inimical to the Jacobite party.  I am informed by these letters that you intend to remain at Amsterdam.  If so, I trust that you will take up your quarters in this house.”

To this proposal Ramsay, who fully expected it, gave a willing consent, saying, at the same time, that he had proposed going to an hotel; but Mynheer Van Krause insisted on sending for Ramsay’s luggage.  He had not far to send, as it was at the door.

“How did you come over?” inquired the host.

“In a king’s cutter,” replied Ramsay, “which waited for me at Portsmouth.”