Tall candles stand upon the table, where Are twisted glasses, ruby-sparked with wine, Clarets and ports. Those topaz bumpers were Drained from slim, long-necked bottles of the Rhine. The centre of the board is piled with pipes, Slender and clean, the still unbaptized clay Awaits its burning fate. Behind, the vault Stretches from dim to dark, a groping way Bordered by casks and puncheons, whose brass stripes And bands gleam dully still, beyond the gay tumult. 4 "For good old Master Hilverdink, a toast!" Clamoured a youth with tassels on his boots. "Bring out your oldest brandy for a boast, From that small barrel in the very roots Of your deep cellar, man. Why here is Max! Ho! Welcome, Max, you're scarcely here in time. We want to drink to old Jan's luck, and smoke His best tobacco for a grand climax. Here, Jan, a paper, fragrant as crushed thyme, We'll have the best to wish you luck, or may we choke!" 5 Max Breuck unclasped his broadcloth cloak, and sat. "Well thought of, Franz; here's luck to Mynheer Jan." The host set down a jar; then to a vat Lost in the distance of his cellar, ran. Max took a pipe as graceful as the stem Of some long tulip, crammed it full, and drew The pungent smoke deep to his grateful lung. It curled all blue throughout the cave and flew Into the silver night. At once there flung Into the crowded shop a boy, who cried to them: 6 "Oh, sirs, is there some learned lawyer here, Some advocate, or all-wise counsellor? My master sent me to inquire where Such men do mostly be, but every door Was shut and barred, for late has grown the hour. I pray you tell me where I may now find One versed in law, the matter will not wait." "I am a lawyer, boy," said Max, "my mind Is not locked to my business, though 'tis late. I shall be glad to serve what way is in my power. 7 Then once more, cloaked and ready, he set out, Tripping the footsteps of the eager boy Along the dappled cobbles, while the rout Within the tavern jeered at his employ. Through new-burst elm leaves filtered the white moon, Who peered and splashed between the twinkling boughs, Flooded the open spaces, and took flight Before tall, serried houses in platoon, Guarded by shadows. Past the Custom House They took their hurried way in the Spring-scented night. 8 Before a door which fronted a canal The boy halted. A dim tree-shaded spot. The water lapped the stones in musical And rhythmic tappings, and a galliot Slumbered at anchor with no light aboard. The boy knocked twice, and steps approached. A flame Winked through the keyhole, then a key was turned, And through the open door Max went toward Another door, whence sound of voices came. He entered a large room where candelabra burned. 9