or, The Silver Skates 125

XV
HOMES

T must not be supposed that our young Dutchmen had
already forgotten the great skating-race which was to take
place on the 20th. On the contrary, they had thought and
spoken of it very often during the day. Even Ben, though he
had felt more like a traveller than the rest, had never once,
through all the sight-seeing, lost a certain vision of silver skates,
which for a week past had haunted him night and day.

Like a true “ John Bull,” as Jacob had called him, he never
doubted that his English fleetness, English strength, English
everything, could at any time enable him, on the ice, to put
all Holland to shame, and the rest of the world too, for that
matter. Ben certainly was a superb skater. He had en-
joyed not half the opportunities for practising that had fallen
to his new comrades ; but he had improved: his share to the
utmost ; and was, besides, so strong of frame, so supple of
limb, in short, such a tight, trim, quick, graceful fellow in every
way, that he had taken to skating as naturally as a chamois to
leaping, or an eagle to soaring.

Only to the heavy heart of poor Hans had the vision of the
silver skates failed to appear during that starry winter night
and the brighter sunlit day.

Even Gretel had seen them flitting before her as she sat
beside her mother through those hours of weary watching, —