“Don’t get shaved here, though. You’d better have that done at Aix-la-Chapelle, and then you can get yourself taken at the same time for the stamps.”
“Among the Prussians? Never! as long as I live. I’ll never help them to earn a cent,” thundered Bloemstein.
“In Maastricht, then,” suggested another.
“All right. I’ll have it done on Monday. Has any one anything more to say to the meeting?”
They looked at each other, but no one broke the silence.
“Just wait a minute,” cried Conrads. “You ought to have a crown, Bloemstein.”
“Nonsense; have one made of brass, and well polished up, then it will shine just as if it were gold.”
“Then we ought to have Ministers’ uniforms. I’ll make them as cheap and as quickly as possible,” said the tailor-Minister; “and then I’ll make a long cloak for you, Bloemstein.”
“If the gentlemen will allow, I’ve something more to say,” said Marbaise.
“We ought to forbid all Altenet girls marrying Prussians.”
“What about my Marieke, who’s courting with the Prussian doctor?” was Bloemstein’s terrified reply. “What a set-out my daughter will make—and, above all, my wife, when I tell them that.”
“Then you must just say that our country doesn’t permit it,” and the whole assembly nodded in token of assent.
“Oh, Lord!” groaned the unlucky President; “it’s the hardest thing you could ask me to do.”
“Our country! the Republic! the Independent Republic!” cried the others, wagging their heads hither and thither, shrugging up their shoulders, and holding out their hands with all their fingers extended in air.
Here the weighty deliberations came to an end; and thereupon the President and his Ministers slowly proceeded homewards.
Holzert escorted the newly appointed ruler to his dwelling. For a considerable time both walked on in silence. At last the tailor spoke:
“Bloemstein,” he began, “if your Marieke is not to marry the Prussian doctor, ... in that case ... I’d like to have her. I always had a liking for the girl; but I couldn’t say anything; ... but now I’m Minister of the Interior, ... that sounds fine, eh? ... that’s something.... I think perhaps it might do.”
“Why, my good fellow, I’ve nothing against you. You always were a clever chap, and you’ve shown it again with those stamps. It would be a good enough idea; ... but—Marieke! and then my wife!”