four or five
thousand people have been killed: a sensible employment for human
beings. Heu! while we,--a free Protestant people,--were fighting for
liberty, you English were beguiled by your own traitorous sovereign,
bribed by the King of France, to attack us."

The surgeon, Nicholas Van Erk, notwithstanding his remarks, treated
Wenlock with the greatest kindness. They however gave him ample
material for thought. In a short time the Dutch fleet arrived off the
coast of Holland, and the injured ships proceeded to the chief naval
ports to undergo repair. The _Marten Harptez_, the ship on board which
Wenlock had found refuge, proceeded to Rotterdam.

"You are a prisoner, but I have got leave to receive you at my house,"
said Mynheer Van Erk; "and as I have a good many sick men to look after,
I do not purpose again going to sea. In truth, fighting may be a very
satisfactory amusement to people without brains; but I am a philosopher,
and have seen enough of it to be satisfied that it is a most detestable
occupation."

Wenlock found himself conveyed to a comfortable mansion in Rotterdam
overlooking a canal; indeed, what houses do not overlook canals in that
city? He was very weak, for his wound had been severe,--more severe
than he had supposed; and he was surprised that he should have been
enabled to undergo so much exertion as he had done. Van Erk, indeed,
told him that had he remained much longer in the water, he would
probably have fainted from loss of blood, and been drowned.

"As you may become a wise man and enjoy life, being young, that would
have been a pity," observed the philosopher; "but it depends how you
spend the future whether you should or should not be justly
congratulated on your escape."

The doctor's wife and only daughter,--the fair Frowline Gretchen,--
formed the only members of the surgeon's household, with their serving
maid Barbara. They, fortunately for Wenlock, were not philosophers, but
turned their attention to household affairs, and watched over him with
the greatest care. He, poor fellow, felt very sad and forlorn. For
many days he could only think with deep grief of the untimely loss of
his brave father. In time, however, he began to meditate a little also
about himself. All his prospects appeared blighted. The friends who
might have spoken of his brave conduct in the fight were dead. He had
hoped to obtain wealth, and to return and marry Mary Mead. He had not a
groat rem