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LONDON:

PRINTED BY S. AND R. BENTLEY, DORSET STREET.

BRAMBLETYE HOUSE.

CHAPTER I.

What would you have, you curse!

He that depends

Upon your favours swims with fins of lead,

And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye-trust ye!
With every minute you do change a mind;

And call him noble that was once your hate,
Him vile that was your garland.

SHAKSPEARE.

DURING the whole period of our hero's residence at Haelbeck, which had now extended to a considerable length of time, none of its inmates had received any tidings whatever from Rotterdam; a silence which, under any other circumstances, would have excited considerable uneasiness; but as Jocelyn had mentioned the sus

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picions, and even accusations, to which Beverning had been exposed from his frequent communications with the Spanish Netherlands, and the secret manner in which they were conducted, they took it for granted, that he had found it prudent, for the present, to abstain from all notice of his expatriated friends; and could not blame a caution which had become as necessary for their safety as his own. To the exile, indeed, nothing could be more gratifying than the belief that he was totally forgotten by all the world; every arrival was to him a subject of fresh apprehension; the very sight of a letter agitated his nerves, and shook his soul to its foundations; and the death-like quietude and monotony of Haelbeck would have, perhaps, soothed him into a more patient endurance of his miseries, could he have chaced away the phantoms that gave horror to the night, and rendered unavailing all the tranquillity of the day.

There were reasons, however, for the silence

of the worthy Burgomaster, of a much more serious description than entered into their conjectures. It has been mentioned, that, at the period of Jocelyn's sudden departure from his house, he had been summoned to Amsterdam, to answer certain charges of a political nature; charges, which he had treated with indignant contempt, declaring that he would not be satisfied with mere acquittal, but must have an ample revenge upon his perjured accusers. In the confidence of his power, and the consciousness of his innocence, he had anticipated a triumph which the result of his examination did not, by any means, justify; for he had neither made sufficient allowance for the virulence of party feeling, which then embittered the different political factions; nor for the rancour of that jealousy which was entertained towards himself personally. In all countries the worshippers of Plutus regard with an evil eye the brother who enjoys the smiles of the deity in a superior

degree to themselves, thinking, perhaps, that their own portion would be larger were it not for the accumulations of this favoured individual: on the present occasion this feeling was aggravated by difference of political opinion. Beverning was of the Republican party, at the head of which was the celebrated Pensionary De Witt; many of those, before whom he was summoned, were of the Orange faction, and almost all regarded him with envy. His invariable success in his adventures to the Indies and elsewhere, his superior opulence, his magnificent establishment, even his extensive charities, were subjects of sore jealousy to the merchant-magistrates of Amsterdam, who, now that they had got this successful rival in their clutches, seemed determined to exert their superior power, by humiliating and insulting, even if they could not legally condemn him.

In the exercise of this vindictive jealousy. they questioned and cross-questioned him with

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