Februari 1831,
Klaas looks at the tall houses along the quay. Their narrow fronts remind him of his native Amsterdam, but there is one big difference. There, he's one of them. Here he's besieged.
Their ships are floating in the middle of the broad river, anchored and on a safe distance from the shore. The whole city is in the rebels' hands now, except for the castle and this fleet. He has seen them on the quays, waving their tricolours and shouting slogans. Are these realy the same people they drank with a few months ago?

His thoughts drift off and he remembers that night in august. It had been warm and they had been to their favorite pub. 'The Flemish Lion'... Only now he realized the irony of a gang of Dutch sailors visiting that place.
He had kissed her and caressed her, Goedele, the barmaid. She was a chubby girl, with red curls and a friendly smile, but what had drawn him towards her was her voice. It was hoarse and low, but the soft Flemish sounds made it sound very feminine. She had embraced him in the hay behind the kitchen and they had made love.

Just the other day the news of the opera-riot reached Antwerp, but Klaas laughed about it.
" You southerners are much too passionate", he told her, upon which she grabbed him and kissed him fiercly.
That was more than half a year ago now and he hadn't seen her since, but she had promissed to wait for him. They would find a solution, but one of them had to convert.

The wind howls and the chains rattle. A sudden shock wakes Klaas from his daydream and he stumbles over the deck.
" We're loose!", a sailor cries and slowly the ship begins to move.
The Belgians have seen it too and a crowd assembles on the quay, big men, armed with clubs. As they drift towards them, Klaas thinks of the captain's speech.
" Death over dishonour!", he had cried and they had cheered. Captain Van Speyk is a brave man, who has destroyed the pirates in the Java-sea. He knew what he was talking about.

Klaas is worried. It seems a confrontation is inevitable. He wonders about the captain's words. Will he be ordered downstairs, to the cannons? Will they fight the rebels?

A Belgian brings his hands to his mouth and shouts.
" Take down the flag and surrender! We will spare you!"

Will they? The crowd has grown and Klaas is certain they can't fight them off. Moreover, the cannons are aimed too high. They are made for long distances and battles at sea, not for bombarding crowds. If they fire them, they'll only damage the buildings.

The quay comes nearer and nearer and it's only a matter of time before the ship crashes into it. The Belgians are preparing to board it. As soon as they are on the deck, the battle will be decided. If there will be a battle, that is, for it seems ridiculous to fight them. There are simply too many of them. Surely the captain was bluffing when he made that speech. No-one will blame him if they surrender now.

Then he hears a cry.
" He has turned mad! That captain has turned mad!"
" What happened?", Klaas asks the desperate sailor.
" He is pointing his gun at a barrel of gunpowder and muttering in himself."

The ship's hull rams into the quay and the Belgians cheer. They bring ladders and ropes and prepare to board.
Then an explosion sounds and nothing is heard for a long time. As the smoke clears, the ship is gone and burned corpses lay scattered upon the quays. Van Speyk sacrificed his crew and war is ahead...