"Are ye sure that your honour’s guid wi’ the small-swird?" he asked mournfully. "If this room were a wee bit braider and the day no what it is I micht gie ye a lesson." I did not know whether to laugh or to be angry. "Why, you rascal," I cried, "do you know anything of these matters? There are many better swordsmen than I in the world, but I think I am more than a match for you." "Weel," said Nicol modestly, "I’ve gien some folk a gey fricht wi’ the swird, but let that be. I’ll be blithe if ye get the better o’ him and a waefu’ man I’ll be if he kills ye. Lord, what ’ll I dae? I’ll hae to become a sodger in this heathen land, or soom hame, whilk is a thing I am no capable o’." And he began to sing with a great affectation of grief: The craw killed the pussie O, The craw killed the pussie O, The wee bit kittlin’ sat and grat In Jennie’s wee bit hoosie O. —in which elegant rhyme the reader will observe that my cousin stood for the crow, I for the pussie, and my servant for the kittlin’. I laughed; but it is not seemly to stand by while your own servant sings a song which compares you to a cat, so I straightway flung a Greek lexicon at his head, and bade him leave the room. I much regretted the act, for it was my only copy of the book, Master Struybroek’s, and the best obtainable, and by the fall some leaves came out, and one, [Greek: _polypenthés_] to [Greek: _polypous_], has not been renewed to this day. After Nicol had gone I amused myself by looking out of the window and watching the passers-by. Some, sober Dutch citizens with Bibles beneath their arms and their goodly persons habited in decent black, were striding solemnly to church, while their wives and children came more slowly behind. Others of the lighter sort were wandering aimlessly on no purpose but their own pleasure, but all I marked were dressed out in their finest clothes. What I noted most of all was the greater colour in the streets than we have in our own land. For there, you will see little but blacks and drabs and browns, while here the women were often gaily arrayed in bright tints which gave a pleasing look to the causeway. I had not sat long when I noted two gentlemen coming down the alley from the Breedestraat, very finely clad, and with a great air of distinction in their faces. They kept the causeway in such a fashion that all whom they met had to get into the middle of the road to let them pass. I half guessed their errand, the more as the face of one of them seemed to me familiar, and I fancied that he had been one of the guests at the supper at Alphen. My guess was confirmed by their coming to a halt outside the door of my lodging and attentively considering the house. Meantime all their actions were plain to my view from the upper window.