turned,
the Baron, beginning to feel alarmed, fearing that his friend had been
truly suffocated, descended into the cabin. A loud snore assured him
that the Count was fast asleep, forgetful of his castle, forgetful of
the Vrouw Klack, forgetful where he was, and of all other sublunary
matters.

"Count Funnibos, come and see the beautiful scenery," shouted the Baron.
Whereon, the Count starting up, hit his head such a blow against the
woodwork close above, that he fell back almost stunned. He, however,
soon recovered, and in a low voice asked the Baron what had happened.

"The last thing that has happened is that you gave your head a
tremendous thwack," said the Baron; "but my object is to invite you on
deck to enjoy the beautiful scenery we are passing through, before we
put out into the open ocean, when we shall see no more green fields."

Thus summoned, the Count, getting out of the bunk, accompanied the Baron
on deck. Then taking out his note-book he wrote: "Green fields, green
trees, windmills pretty numerous, cows white and black still more so,
sky and sea as usual, with here and there a vessel or other craft on the
calm surface of the latter."

"I see nothing more to describe," he said, as he closed the book and
returned it to his pocket.

Still the galiot glided on.

"It strikes me that there is some monotony in this kind of scenery,"
observed the Count to the Baron; "but it's pleasing, charming, and
soothing to one's troubled soul."

At last the wind dropped, and the galiot lay becalmed.

"What are we going to do now?" asked the Count, finding that the vessel
no longer moved through the water.

"Drop our anchor and wait till the ebb makes again, unless we wish to be
driven up by the flood all the way we have come," observed the skipper.

"What, and run the risk of meeting Johanna Klack!" exclaimed the Count,
in a voice of alarm. "By all means do come to an anchor, my dear
Captain."

"That's what I intend to do," he answered; and he ordered the anchor to
be let go.

Other vessels were in the same condition as themselves, so they had no
reason to complain. The scenery was not particularly enlivening, though
there were a few trees on the shore; but they were generally stunted in
their growth, and bent by the winds. Here and there a small boat
appeared, the occupants being engaged either in fishing, or in rowing
across the river. One or two people were enjoying the luxury of
bathing, and a man