to honour him any longer with his confidence, Craeke, the
faithful servant, mounted on a good horse, and little
suspecting what terrible events had taken place since his
departure, proceeded along the high road lined with trees,
until he was clear of the town and the neighbouring
villages.

Being once safe, he left his horse at a livery stable in
order not to arouse suspicion, and tranquilly continued his
journey on the canal-boats, which conveyed him by easy
stages to Dort, pursuing their way under skilful guidance by
the shortest possible routes through the windings of the
river, which held in its watery embrace so many enchanting
little islands, edged with willows and rushes, and abounding
in luxurious vegetation, whereon flocks of fat sheep browsed
in peaceful sleepiness. Craeke from afar off recognised
Dort, the smiling city, at the foot of a hill dotted with
windmills. He saw the fine red brick houses, mortared in
white lines, standing on the edge of the water, and their
balconies, open towards the river, decked out with silk
tapestry embroidered with gold flowers, the wonderful
manufacture of India and China; and near these brilliant
stuffs, large lines set to catch the voracious eels, which
are attracted towards the houses by the garbage thrown every
day from the kitchens into the river.

Craeke, standing on the deck of the boat, saw, across the
moving sails of the windmills, on the slope of the hill, the
red and pink house which was the goal of his errand. The
outlines of its roof were merging in the yellow foliage of a