CHAPTER VIII.
How the fort Goed Hoop was fearfully beleaguered
—how the renowned Wouter fell into a profound
doubt, and how he finally evaporated.
By this time my readers must fully
perceive what an arduous task I have
undertaken—collecting and collating,
with painful minuteness, the chronicles
of past times, whose events almost defy
the powers of research—exploring a
kind of little Herculaneum of history,
which had lain buried under the rubbish
of years, and almost totally forgotten—
raking up the limbs and fragments of
disjointed facts, and endeavouring to put
them scrupulously together, so as to restore
them to their original form and
connexion—now lugging forth the character
of an almost-forgotten hero, like
a mutilated statue—now deciphering a
half-defaced inscription, and now lighting
upon a mouldering manuscript, which,
after painful study, scarce repays the
trouble of perusal.
In such case how much has the reader
to depend upon the honour and probity
of his author, lest, like a cunning antiquarian,
he either impose upon him some
spurious fabrication for a precious re
