"'Our ships are on every sea,

Our honour has never a stain,

Our law and our commerce are free:

Are we slaves for the tyrant of Spain?

No, no, no, no!

"'Then, sons of Batavia, the spade,--

The spade and the pike and the main,

And the heart and the hand and the blade;

Is there mercy for merciless Spain?

No, no, no, no!'"

By this time the enthusiasm was wonderful. The short, quick denials came

hotter and louder at every verse; and it was easy to understand how

these large, slow men, once kindled to white heat, were both

irresistible and unconquerable. Every eye was turned to Joris, who stood

in his massive, manly beauty a very conspicuous figure. His face was

full of feeling and purpose, his large blue eyes limpid and shining;

and, as the tumult of applause gradually ceased, he said,-"My friends and neighbours, no poet am I; but always wrongs burn in the

heart until plain prose cannot utter them. Listen to me. If we wrung the

Great Charter and the right of self-taxation from Mary in A.D. 1477; if

in A.D. 1572 we taught Alva, by force of arms, how dear to us was our

maxim, 'No taxation without representation,'-"Shall we give up our long-cherished right?

Make the blood of our fathers in vain?

Do we fear any tyrant to fight?

Shall we hold out our hands for the chain?

No, no, no, no!"

Even the women had caught fire at this allusion to the injustice of the

Stamp Act and Quartering Acts, then hanging over the liberties of the

Province; and Mrs. Gordon looked curiously and not unkindly at the

latent rebels. "England will have foemen worthy of her steel if she

turns these good friends into enemies," she reflected; and then,

following some irresistible impulse, she rose with the company, at the

request of Joris, to sing unitedly the patriotic invocation,-"O Vaderland, can we forget thee,--

Thy courage, thy glory, thy strife?

O Moeder Kirk, can we forget thee?

No, never! no, never! through life.

No, no, no, no!"

The emotion was too intense to be prolonged; and Joris instantly pushed

back his chair, and said, "Now, then, friends, for the dance. Myself I

think not too old to take out the bride."

Neil Semple, who had looked like a man in a dream during the singing,

went eagerly to Katherine as soon as Joris spoke of dancing. "He felt

strong enough," he said, "to tread a measure in the bride dance, and he

hoped she would so far honour him."




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