For the first day of their arrival Rupert had all the talking to
do, and his adventures to relate from the time he set sail from
Dort. He had of course written from time to time, but his letters,
although fairly full, did not contain a tithe of the detail which
his friends were anxious to learn. The next morning, after
breakfast, he asked his host if he was unwell, for he looked worn
and anxious.
"I am well in body, but disturbed in mind," he said. "Six months
ago I stood well with my fellow citizens, and few were more popular
in Dort than myself. Now, save among the better class, men look
askance at me. Subtle whispers have gone abroad that I am in
correspondence with France; that I am a traitor to Holland; that I
correspond with the Spanish at Antwerp. In vain have I tried to
force an open accusation, in order that I might disperse it. The
merchants, and others of my rank, scoff at these rumours, and have
in full council denounced their authors as slanderers; but the
lower class still hold to their belief. Men scowl as I walk along;
the boys shout 'Traitor!' after me; and I have received threatening
letters."
"But this is abominable," Rupert said, hotly. "Is there no way of
dealing with these slanderers?"
"No," the merchant said; "I see none, beyond living it down. Some
enemy is at work, steadily and powerfully."
"Have you any enemy you suspect?"
"None, save indeed that rascal countryman of yours.
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