"And they are Englishmen, Frau Margret, Englishmen," said the Receiver-
General's wife. "They don't eat, they don't consume, they devour. We
supply our troops; but Herr von Nordwyk--I mean the younger one, who has
been at the Queen's court as the Prince's ambassador, told my Wilhelm
what a British glutton can gobble. They'll clear off your beef like
cheese, and our beer is dish-water compared with their black malt brew."

"All that might be borne," replied Barbara, "if they were stout soldiers.
We needn't mind a hundred head of cattle more or less, and the glutton
becomes temperate, when a niggard rules the house. But I wouldn't take
one of our Adrian's grey rabbits for these runaways."

"It would be a pity," said Frau de Haes. "I shall go home now, and if I
find my husband, he'll learn what sensible people think of the
Englishmen."

"Gently, my friend, gently," said Burgomaster Van Swieten's wife, who had
hitherto been playing quietly with the cat. "Believe me, it will be just
the same on the whole, whether we admit the auxiliaries or not, for
before the gooseberries in our gardens are ripe, all resistance will be
over."

Maria, who was passing cakes and hippocras, set her waiter on the table
and asked:

"Do you wish that, Frau Magtelt?"

"I do," replied the latter positively, "and many sensible people wish it
too. No resistance is possible against such superior force, and the