Baroness Orczy

“ It was piercingly cold, the silver ribbon of the Rhyn wound its graceful course westward to the North Sea and from beyond its opposite bank a biting wind swept across the dykes and over the flat country around, chasing myriads of crisp snowflakes from their rest and driving them in wanton frolic round and round into little whirlpools of mist that glistened like the facets of diamonds.
Diogenes had walked briskly along; the skates upon his arm clicked at every one of his movements with a pleasing metallic sound. ”

“ He was accustomed to take all risks in life with indifference and good humour, the only thing that mattered was the ultimate end: an exciting experience to go through, a goodly competence to earn, a promise to fulfil.
Up above, the waning moon seemed to smile upon his enterprise; she lay radiant and serene on her star-studded canopy of mysterious ethereal indigo. Diogenes looked back on the little hostelry, which lay some little distance up the street at right angles to the river bank. ”

“ He chose a convenient spot on the river bank whereon to squat on the ground, and fastened on his skates.
After which he rose and for a moment stood looking straight out northwards before him. But a few leagues—half a dozen at most—lay between him and Haarlem. The Rhyn as well as the innumerable small polders and lakes had left—after the autumn floods—their usual trail of narrow waterways behind them which, frozen over now, joining, intersecting and rejoining again formed a perfect, uninterrupted road from hence to the northern cities. ”