"A mistake! Not at all. General van Santen come to me and zay, ’Grootz, you have in your business a young man dat has no business to be in your business; he is a soldier, noding less, and we have need of such;’ dat is what he zay, and more, and he go straight off to put down your name for a commission. And here it is, in de gazette. Dat is why I discharge you, before—" (Mynheer Grootz made a brave attempt to be jocular)—"before you discharge yourself." Harry was silent. His nerves were tingling, his blood sang in his veins. Here was the opening to a career after his own heart. All his earlier longings came back to him; the inward struggle with which he had acquiesced in his father’s desire that he should enter the Church; the light of hope that shone on him at his interview with Marlborough; the agonizing dissolution of his castle in the air. And now, unsought, what he had sought in vain had come to him, the aspiration of his boyhood was about to be fulfilled. All this flashed through his mind in a moment of time,—and there was Jan Grootz, smiling out of his kindly little eyes. Jan Grootz!—what he owed to him! But for Jan Grootz he might now be a hapless slave in the Plantations, with no ray of light upon the endless vista of the years. To Jan Grootz he owed his health and freedom, his training in dealing with men; more than all, he had met in Jan Grootz a man whose character compelled his respect and admiration, and whom indeed he had begun to love. Would it not be the worst of ingratitude to leave him now? The temptation was strong, the inward struggle sharp. But it was only a few moments after the staggering announcement when he bent forward and said: "Mynheer, I cannot accept this offer—this splendid offer. ’Tis exceeding kind of General van Santen; I owe him my hearty thanks; but ’tis not to be thought of, save you yourself wish to be rid of me, and that I must doubt, since ’tis but a week since you told me I was useful to you. I will see the general, and explain to him the reason why I decline this commission; I must do so at once." He made towards the door, as though eager to avoid dalliance. Grootz’s broad plain face was transfigured by delight and pride and gratification. Catching Harry by the arm, he drew him back, laid his hand on his shoulder, and said: "No, Harry, my dear lad, I tell you dis; you must not do dis ding. I do not zay I shall not feel your loss"—there was an unusual note of tenderness in his voice—"true, it is not long dat we have worked togeder, but already I regard you—jawohl, regard you as a son, and to miss your bright face, your willing service——hoot! by den donder, I am not myself to-day." "’Tis too kind of you, Mynheer."