Here he paused, for Jan Mulder stole behind Wibisma, struck his hat down
on his head with a book, and while Nicolas Van Wibisma was trying to free
his eyes from the covering that shaded them, exclaimed:

"There, Sir Grandee, now the little hat sits firm! You can keep it on,
even before the king."

The negro could not go to his master's assistance, for his arms were
filled with parcels, but the young noble did not call him, knowing how
cowardly his black servant was, and feeling strong enough to help
himself.

A costly clasp, which he had just received as a gift on his seventeenth
birthday, confined the plume in his hat; but without a thought he flung
it aside, stretched out his arms as if for a wrestling-match, and with
florid cheeks, asked in a loud, resolute tone: "Who did that?"

Jan Mulder had hastily retreated among his companions, and instead of
coming forward and giving his name, called:

"Look for the hat-fuller, Glipper! We'll play blindman's buff."

The youth, frantic with rage, repeated his question. When, instead of
any other answer, the boys entered into Jan Mulder's jest, shouting
gaily: "Yes, play blind-man's buff! Look for the hat-fuller. Come,
little Glipper, begin." Nicolas could contain himself no longer, but
shouted furiously to the laughing throng:

"Cowardly rabble!"