minds to part with these cherished possessions.”
“I’m only too glad to part with mine,” said Gysbert, “for I shall be proud to go and look at that old iron pot in its honored place in the Museum, and think how I found it that horrible night, and how good the Spanish hodge-podge tasted that I got out of it!”
“And I,” said Jacqueline, “will give up my pigeons since the Prince wishes it, but I think I will keep ‘William of Orange’ for myself. He rode with me in the procession to-day, and I love him both for the name he bears, and the part he played in those dreadful days. No, I am sure I cannot part with my faithful ‘William of Orange’!”
But the future was to hold one more great day for the Cornellisen family, at which we must have one glimpse before we leave them.
Five years more had passed, and again it was October third, the anniversary of the
