“That would indeed be something to be thankful for,” agreed Chester.

The following afternoon the continental party took the train to Harwich, then boat for the Hook of Holland, where they arrived next morning.  A short ride by rail brought them to Rotterdam.

Uncle Gilbert had seen the city before, but the quaint town interested the others for the first time.  “Everything is clean in Holland but the canals,” some one has said.  In Rotterdam, the ancient windmills, with huge spreading arms, stand in the midst of modern shops, and the contrast is strange.

Uncle Gilbert directed the party to the Delftshaven church, explaining that in this ancient building the Pilgrim Fathers worshiped before they set sail for the New World.  Then the sight-seers took train for The Hague, ten miles away.  They visited the House of the Woods, where the Peace Congresses are held, observed Queen Wilhelmina’s residence from without, looked at some of the famous paintings in the art gallery, then shuddered over the instruments of torture on exhibition in the “Torture Chamber” found in the old prison.  There were some gruesome articles here.

“All in the name of religion,” remarked the minister, shaking his head.  “It seems to me that in those days men taxed their ingenuity to find new and more terrible means of inflicting pain.  And men suffered in those days because of religious belief.”

Someone had expressed himself on the subject in these lines, which they read from a card: 

    “By my soul’s hope of rest,
    I’d rather have been born, ere man was blessed
    With the pure dawn of revelation’s light;
    Yea; rather plunge me back into pagan night
    And take my chances with Socrates for bliss,
    Than be a Christian of a faith like this.”

Out from the depressing gloom of the prison, they took the electric car to Scheveningen, the famous sea-side resort.  The season was hardly begun yet, so there were but few visitors.  However, the sands dotted with their peculiar wicker shelters and the beautiful blue North Sea were there.  Out on the water could be seen the little “pinken”—­the fishing boats, their sails red and taut or white and wing-like, speeding before the wind.  The waves swept in long straight lines, and broke on the sands in muffled sound.  The scene was restful, so the party was served with something to eat and drink on a table within sound and sight of the open sea.

That evening, back in Rotterdam, Chester and Lucy, while the two brothers took their ease “at home,” found the Mission headquarters, introduced themselves to the elders, and spent a few hours very pleasantly with them.  They learned from the missionaries that the Dutch were for the most part, an honest, God-fearing people, quite susceptible to the gospel.  There were no meetings that evening, but in lieu thereof, the presiding elder took them out and introduced them to some of the Saints.  Then, when they came back to the office, the housekeeper served them with cool milk, white bread, sweet butter, and whiter cheese.