Sailing, riding, or flying, whichever it was, everything was rushing past, backward, and before they had time to draw a deep breath, Leyden itself, with its high, peaked roofs, flew halfway to meet them.
When the city came in sight, it was high time to waken the sleeper. That feat accomplished, Peter's prophecy came to pass. Master Jacob was quite restored and in excellent spirits.
The schipper made a feeble remonstrance when Peter, with hearty thanks, endeavored to slip some silver pieces into his tough brown palm.
"Ye see, young master," said he, drawing away his hand, "the regular line o' trade's ONE thing, and a favor's another."
"I know it," said Peter, "but those boys and girls of yours will want sweets when you get home. Buy them some in the name of Saint Nicholas."
The man grinned. "Aye, true enough, I've young 'uns in plenty, a clean boatload of them. You are a sharp young master at guessing."
This time the knotty hand hitched forward again, quite carelessly, it seemed, but its palm was upward. Peter hastily dropped in the money and moved away.
The sail came tumbling down. Scrape, scrape went the brake, scattering an ice shower round the boat.