As soon as Heins had recovered a little from his amazement, it occurred to him that that which had been granted to a common sailor would scarcely be refused to the partner of one of the dignitaries; and forthwith he too crossed over; he too attempted to pass through the portico. The observing people seemed at a loss what to do this time. The hundred hands were only half raised; the thousand voices produced only a murmur. The officers, however, knew their duty. At a sign from the magistrate who had admitted Master Peter's appeal, they interposed their batons; and two of them, seizing the mortified merchant by each arm, conducted him back among the crowd, followed by a frown from Vanderput, and welcomed by grave jokes from his less enterprising neighbours. There he was left to murmur out his discontent, while the despised Master Peter was witnessing the remarkable ceremony of the delivery of the charge of the Bank of Amsterdam by one set of magistrates to their successors. It was mortifying to Heins to hear from him afterwards the details of how the four great wax lights were brought in grave procession, and put, together with the Bank books, into the hands of their new guardians; how the massive bolts of the treasure-chambers revolved amidst the silence, and were returned to their staples when the officials had entered; how the time seemed long while the examiners were comparing the treasure with the account of it in the Bank books; how eagerly listened to was their declaration, when they came out, that all was correct; and how solemn the oath then administered to them, that they would faithfully discharge their office, and guard the civic treasure. Of the aspect of the ponderous keys every one could judge for himself, as each of the new magistrates, when he re-appeared, wore a bunch of them at his girdle, and probably felt that they constituted the heaviest penance of the day. Heins was pacing homewards, not altogether so happy in his self-importance as when he had traversed the same ground a few hours before, when he was crossed in his path by Slyk. "Ha! I thought you had been fifty miles off," said Heins. "I was told you had settled to the northward of us." "News which may or may not be true," replied Slyk, mysteriously. "I have more to say to you thereupon. You must visit me;--after 'Change time. After 'Change time, remember. Fransje will entertain us well at table, if you will sup. You will sup with us, friend Snoek." Francesca bent forward eagerly to enforce the invitation, which Heins accepted, after having gazed at the sky with knit brows, and then round upon the walls, as if looking there for a record of his engagements.--Slyk believed he was adding another inducement when he hinted that his discourse of the evening might bear some relation to Heins's respected mother.