“I wish you had, Hans, with all my heart; but we were hard pushed, and had a strange Dominie to feed. You know a body must provide _well_ for company.” “Yaas, yaas; I understants it, and knows how you moost have peen nonplush't to do sich a t'ing; put it was _mo-o-st_ too pat. Vell, we are all young, afore we live to be olt--t'at effery potty knows.” By this time the door was open, and we entered. Mr. Mayor had issued orders we should all be shown into the parlour, where I rather think, from what subsequently passed, he intended to cut up Guert a little more than common, by exposing him before the eyes of a particular person. At all events, the reader can judge of my horror, at finding that the party whose supper I had just helped to demolish, consisted, in addition to three or four sons and daughters of the house, of Herman Mordaunt, Mary Wallace, and Anneke! Of course, everybody knew _what_ had been done; but, until we entered the room, Mr. Mayor alone knew _who_ had done it. Of Mr. Worden and myself even, he knew no more than he had learned from Dootje's account of the matter; and the cook, quite naturally, had represented us as rogues feigning our divinity. Guert was a thoroughly manly fellow, and he did us the justice to enter the parlour first. Poor fellow! I can feel for him, even at this distance of time, when his eye first fell on Mary Wallace's pallid and distressed countenance. It could scarcely be less than I felt myself, when I first beheld Anneke's flushed features, and the look of offended propriety that I fancied to be sparkling in her estranged eye. Mr. Mayor evidently regarded Mr. Worden with surprise, as indeed he did me; for, instead of strangers, he probably expected to meet two of those delinquents whose faces were familiar to him, by divers similar jocular depredations, committed within the limits of his jurisdiction. Then the circumstance that Mr. Worden was a real Dominie, could not be questioned by those who saw him standing, as he did, face to face, with all the usual signs of his sacred office in his dress and air. “I believe there must be some mistake here, constable!” exclaimed Mr. Mayor. “Why have you brought these two strange gentlemen along with Guert Ten Eyck?” “My orters, Mr. Mayor, wast to pring Dootje's 'rapscallion Tominie,' and his 'rapscallion frient;' and t'at is one, and t'is ist t'ot'e.” “This gentleman has the appearance of being a _real_ clergyman, and that too, of the church of England.” “Yaas, Mr. Mayor, t'at is yoost so. He wilt preach fifteen minutes wit'out stopping, if you wilt give him a plack gownt; and pray an hour in a white shirt.” [24] “Will you do me the favour, Guert Ten Eyck, to let me have the names of the strangers I have the pleasure to receive,” said the mayor, a little authoritatively.