He heard a noise.  A voice whispered, just above the edge of the chimney on the river gable:  “Fus-s-s!  Pas op!”

“What is that?” thought Nanking; “somebody saying, ‘Hist! be careful?’ Surely I see something moving on the chimney, like a living head.”

The voice whispered again:  “Maak hast!  Kom hier!” Or, “Hasten!  Come here!”

Nanking raised up and made a noise.

“Wie komt, daar?” demanded the voice, and in a minute repeated:  “Wie sprecht, daar?”

They ask, “Who comes and who speaks?” said Nanking.  “Blessed be the promises of heaven!  It is Santa Claus!”

Then he heard movements at the chimney, and people seemed to be ascending and descending a ladder.  There seemed, also, to be noises on the deck of the Blue Cock, and sounds of falling burdens and spoken words:  “Maak plaats!” or make room for more.

“I never heard of Santa Claus stopping so long at one humble house,” thought Nanking.

After awhile all sounds ceased.  Nanking crept to the chimney and touched it with his hand.  It had no opening whatever in the top.

He felt around this mysterious chimney.  “He!  Zoo!” he said aloud, “there is more wood here than brick.  ’Tis a false chimney altogether!”

Then he saw that his close observation had not been at fault.  The chimney over the river gable was a painted chimney, a mere invention.  Yet, surely Santa Claus had been there.

After a time Nanking opened the top and side of this chimney as if they were two doors.  He found it packed with goods of all kinds—­a ton at least.

“I will run and awaken my mother,” he thought.  “But no.  Did not Ffob Oothout tell me to blab no secrets and shut my teeth tight?  I will tell nobody.  These costly things are all mine; for there are no other boys in this whole dwelling but Nanking Cloos, the fatherless idiot!”

He slipped down and hastened to his boat, which lay in a cove not far below.  Towing it along the bank to a sheltered place convenient, Nanking began to load up the goods from the chimney.  Before daylight broke he had secured every thing, and hoisting sail was speedily carried to the island of the Pea Patch, far down the bay—­that island which shone in the offing and seemed to close the river’s mouth.  Here, in the wreck of an old galiot, he hid every article dry and secure; kegs of liquors and wine, shawls and blankets, pieces of silk, gunpowder, beautiful pipes, bars of silver and copper, and a whole bag of gold.  Nanking covered them with dry driftwood and boughs of trees, and sailed again to New Amstel, where he arrived before breakfast.

At breakfast Nanking found upon his bench a beautiful new gun.

“It is thine, good child,” said Ffob Oothout, “for sparing me those lashes.  Thy churlish uncle felt so reproved by thy innocent words that he set me free.  Widow, here is a spiegel for thee, a looking-glass to see, unseen, whoever passes up or down the street.  That is a woman’s high privilege everywhere.  Thou shalt be, erelong, the best-dressed wife in all New Amstel.  Nanking, wouldst thou like to have a father?”