“How merry you sing, mijn Katrijntje!  Like a little bird you sing.  What, then, is it?”

“A pretty song made by the schoolmaster, mijn moeder.  ’Oranje Boven’ the name is.”

“That is a good name.  Your father I will remind to have it painted over the door of the summer-house.”

“There already are two mottoes painted,—­Peaceful is my garden,’ and ‘Contentment is my lot.’”

“Well, then, there is always room for two more good words, is there not?” And Katherine gayly sung her answer,—­

“Tie the splendid orange, Orange still above! O oranje boven! Orange still above.”

[Illustration:  Tail-piece]

[Illustration:  Chapter heading]

IV.

“The trifles of our daily lives, The common things scarce worth recall, Whereof no visible trace survives,—­ These are the mainsprings, after all.”

“Honoured gentleman, when will you pay me my money?”

The speaker was an old man, dressed in a black coat buttoned to the ankles, and a cap of silk and fur, from beneath which fell a fringe of gray hair.  His long beard was also gray, and he leaned upon an ivory staff carved with many strange signs.  The inquiry was addressed to Captain Hyde.  He paid no attention whatever to it, but, gayly humming a stave of “Marlbrook,” watched the crush of wagons and pedestrians, in order to find a suitable moment to cross the narrow street.

“Honoured gentleman, when will you pay me my moneys?”

The second inquiry elicited still less attention for, just as it was made, Neil Semple came out of the City Hall, and his appearance gave the captain a good excuse for ignoring the unpleasant speaker.

“Faith, Mr. Semple,” he cried, “you came in an excellent time.  I am for Fraunce’s Tavern, and a chop and a bottle of Madeira.  I shall be vastly glad of your company.”

The grave young lawyer, with his hands full of troublesome-looking papers, had little of the air of a boon companion; and, indeed, the invitation was at once courteously declined.

“I have a case on in the Admiralty Court, Captain,” he answered, “and so my time is not my own.  It belongs, I may say, to the man who has paid me good money for it.”

“Lawyer Semple?”

“Mr. Cohen, at your service, sir.”

“Captain Hyde owes me one hundred guineas, with the interests, since the fifteenth day of last December.  He will not hear me when I say to him, ‘Pay me my moneys;’ perhaps he will listen, if you speak for me.”

“If you are asking my advice in the way of business, you know my office-door, Cohen; if in the way of friendship, I may as well say at once, that I never name friendship and money in the same breath.  Good-day, gentlemen.  I am in something of a hurry, as you may understand.”  Cohen bowed low in response to the civil greeting; Captain Hyde stared indignantly at the man who had presumed to couple one of his Majesty’s officers with a money-lender and a Jew.