to a large four-wheeled cart, a little girl in shabby clothes, weeping
bitterly. Could this be the rosy-cheeked angel who, floating along on
the snow-white pony, had seemed to him like a happy creature from more
beautiful worlds? A scolding old woman now lifted the child into the
cart, but he followed the crowd and saw Doctor Morpurgo, no longer clad
in scarlet, but in plain dark cloth, mounted on a lean horse, riding
beside his cart. The negro was furiously urging the mule forward, but
his master seemed to have remained in full possession of the calmness
peculiar to him. His wares were of small value, and the Spaniards had
no reason to take his head and tongue, by which he gained more than he
needed.

Adrian followed him to the long row of booths in the wide street, and
there saw things, which put an end to his thoughtlessness and made him
realize, that the point in question now concerned serious, heart-rending
matters. He had still been able to laugh as he saw the ginger-bread
bakers and cotton-sellers fighting hand to hand, because in the first
fright they had tossed their packages of wares hap-hazard into each
other's open chests, and were now unable to separate their property; but
he felt sincerely sorry for the Delft crockery-dealer on the corner,
whose light booth had been demolished by a large wagon from Gouda, loaded
with bales, and who now stood beside her broken wares, by means of which
she supported herself and children, wringing her hands, while the driver,
taking no notice of her, urged on his horses with loud cracks of his
whip. A little girl, who had lost her parents and was being carried away
by a compassionate burgher woman, was weeping piteously. A poor rope-
dancer, who had been robbed by a thief in the crowd, of the little tin
box containing he pennies he had collected, was running about, ringing
his hands and looking for the watchman. A shoemaker was pounding riding-
boots and women's shoes in motley confusion into a wooden chest with rope