KITXVYK STORIES KITWYK STORIES ANNA EICHBERG KING AUTHOR OK " BROWN S RETREAT, AND OTHER STORIES NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. TO JULIUS KICHHKRC. WHOSE RARE WIT AND CHARM WKRK AN INSPIRATION, THESE STORIES ARK I >KI UCATE1) IN LOVING MEMORY KY HIS DAUGHTER CONTENTS PAGE I m: COURTING OK JUFFROUW VAN Loo .... i THE FACTIONS OK KITWVK 46 Tui . SINGULAR CLEVERNESS OK TOMY VAN Loo . 54 TlLK VIOLONCELLO OF JUKKROUW RoZENKOOM . . 64 IUITKOUW VAX STKKN 96 TllK \\ ll.l) HUNTSMEN OK KlTWVK 136 THE BLIGHTING OF MVNHKKR VAN STKEN ... 157 THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 176 JOSSKLIN 203 A TRAGEDY OF KITWVK 230 A ROMANCE OF KITWVK 248 THE STORY OF LESKEN 271 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS " JOSSELIX, JOSSELIX, I FKAR TUTS IS LOVE" FRONTISPIECE F ACINi; 1 AC.E JAXI.T AXD T>EXTINCK IN THE MYRTLE ARDOR 3f "JUFFROUW 1)E K.OCK DOZED OEXTLY OVER HER lill .LE" 48 " MISTRESS VAX Loo, WHICH is YOUR CANDI DATE?" 50 MKVROUW S CANDIDATE 52 THE TOWX-PUMP 54 " M.YNHEER DEFREU.GE DOZED IN Co.Ml AXY WITH HIS DoO Poi.DF.R " 56 "HE STORMED TO HIS CLIMAX IN RAPTURE" . 61 "TiiE CHARIOT POUNDED SLOWLY AI.OXO" . . . 85 JIM. is f)2 "AuxT JETTA FOI.I>I :D HER HANDS AND WAS DIS TINCTLY ICY IX HER JOY" 98 THE OKEAT I)l. KlASIlR SAT IN A CubP.Y-HOLE I O.| " SELL A PICTURE OF A Cow " 108 JASPER 113 M ETTJE . . . 120 "I AM NICODEMCS I)i: KEYSER " 128 AND SO THF.Y \VAIkl. I> VKKY SLOWLY |K)\VN TIIK SUN-PLASHKD Ri AH " 171 TlIIKI. (AMI. in AN ol.li HoL SK" 2 1 | \> >UX<; I )l I.I SKKN 2- - M i> i RESS l!i: i i Y .... ^7 ) Dl! IKUII I.XAMIM,- III! DlSASll.K KKOM \ DlS- TAN( I . 2 So Konrs AND iu> 1 ri ii 2^<> J AN S ( < H K r>ini .. <)i DI-: LKSK.KN KNTKKTAININC ^o:> J \ N R I ! I K V - 312 I \ Till. ( >k( 111- IR \ T, I f) KITXYYK STORIES THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO IN the outskirts of Kitwyk stood the castle of Ten Brink, an old ruin built on three sides of a quadrangle, and surrounded by a moat covered with a bright green scum and lily- pads, and agitated by nothing more warlike than a family of ducks floating about, while bullfrogs, like a hidden orchestra, kept up a lively bass. Ruin and blight had fallen on Ten Brink ; its stone steps were sunken and crumbling, grass grew between the cracks, while the crest of the noble family of Ten Brink over the main entrance: was wiped out by time and disaster. The windows in the state apartments were broken, while the planks that boarded up others were hanging by a few nails, and witli the exception of bats at night nothing broke the silence except the occasional flap of Juf- trouw de Rock s washing hung up to dry in the forsaken banqueting-hall. The three weather- 2 KITWYK STOKIKS cocks that capped the three wind s, irom which the dull red tiles fell with a inehmcln >1 y thud, had a discouraged i^norin^" <>( the changes in the wind, as it ihr rust <>t centuries held them last ly the le_^s. ( )n a metal vane a lor^ t it- ten artisan had cut the date 1520. I he castle <>t I en Brink had been deserted tor three centuries when one day it was in vaded ly the mother <>t (uitrouw de Kock, who took possession ot the silence, and marked her advent l>y paint, and an unsparing use ot the mop. A LH een frontdoor replaced a bat- tered oaken structure, and a stern hand hid with a solid layer ot white paint the Bloomy wood-carvings ot the stairs that led to die forsaken banquetin^ -room. I he tower cham ber, a kind ot huvj: anteroom where: once men at-arms loafed and diced, had been con verted Irom the errors ot its way by the same useful fluid. It was a Laeat circular space lighted by live windows, and so thick were the walls that each window in its embrasure formed a room by itself. The main room was the kitchen, where stood the eaeat hearth, with a cliint/ frill about the hi-h chimney, and capped by a row of delft plates. The tea-kettle on its THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 3 brass brazier stood beside Juffrouw de Kock s chair, and moved with her from window to window, until the fifth, which she reached by sunset. There she read her Bible, and watched the great red sun sink behind the Kitwyk mill, the barges floating lazily down the canals with flapping sails, and the trck- scJiuits trundling heavily in the rear. By what right the De Kocks had invaded Ten Brink no one ever knew, and Kitwyk was bewildered by an uncertainty whether to con sider them aristocratic by reason of their being the illegal representatives of the race of Ten Brink, or whether to despise them because of their inability to live anywhere else by reason of their poverty. One spring day, forty years before, Overste (Captain) de Kock he was not Overste de Kock then left Kitwyk for Java, full of dreams of glory, curry, and pineapples. He promised his sister that he would live to be a general at least, and then he would do great things for here he nodded at young Ensign Donderkull, who stood beside her chewing a dandelion blossom, while Juffrouw de Kock hung her head until the gold ornaments at her temples played a tinkling tune. The)- crossed 4 KITNYYK STORIKS the crumbling loot-bridge over the mo;it, and [uttrouw de Kock stared alter them with something dim in her eyes, th.it played havoc with the broad back ot a heavy youth in a martial pot-hat, pigtail, and cavalry boots. Xo, not her brother. The day belore she had taken her newly spun linen to the meadow, and as she knelt in the Iresh young spring grass, and smoothed, tile fragrant white strips, she looked up in humble surprise as a young man sauntered heavily toward her, his hands in his breeches ] >ockets. " \\ e must go to-morrow." Knsign I )on- derkull broke the silence. fuftrouw de Kock clambered to her leet, and looked steadily at the Kitwyk windmill, as if she had never seen it before. " |a\ - a is tar Irom here," he continued, and kicked at her neat layer ot wet linen. She ignored the frightful sacrilege, and sighed. " |ava /\ very far away," she murmured, and looked down at her wooden shoes. " Yes," said Knsign I hmderkull, and rubbed his chin; then, as il seixed by a sudden in spiration, "l>ut some day. fultrouw de Kock, I shall c:ome back," whereupon he turned on his heel and left her standiiV there. THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 5 She knelt again, and picked a dandelion his valiant toes had crushed, and hid it in her pocket as if it were a crime. Such was Juffronw cle Rock s romance. Forty years had gone by, and he had not returned, and in her Bible lay a withered flower. Some day he would come back ; he had said so. So the years passed. Then one day there came home to her, with shat tered dreams, a bad liver, the devil ot a tem per, and a small pension, her brother Overste de Kock. I Ie was a little sun-dried man with a tem per hopelessly undermined by cayenne pepper and curries, and it was a source of never-fail ing interest in the tap-room of William the Silent what kind of curse word Overste de Kock would invent next. It was a year after his return before Jtif- frouw de Kock summoned up enough courage to ask him a question, and a faint blush crept up her old cheeks to the edge of the frilled muslin cap. "And young Ensign Donderkull ? " 1 low she had pondered over that question for forty years ! She was sei/ed with a sud den terror at sound of the name which she had not heard lor nearly hall a century. (> KITYVYK SToRlKS " ( )h, ho! youn- Knsi- n Donderkull - youn- ha! ha! and what may you want to know ot him youn- Lnsi-n Donderkull?" " Is is he livin-- . J " " Living? I should rather think so." His sense ot the ludicrous was visibly aroused. Livin- , indeed "The rich and -Teat den- eral Donderkull! and he wa-~- ed his head until his pi-tail tickled both his ears at once. " The rich and -Teat (General Donderkull!" "Commander-in-chief of the Dutch army in Java," roared her brother. I le had his weakness, but he did not grudge the superior - ond tortune ot his old comrade in arms. His sister sank on the nearest chair, and stared tirst at her brother and then throu- h the window at the familiar slope ot the meadow. Then she spoke a- ain: " I le married ? \\ hat concern is it of yours, juttrouw de Kock? The -Teat Donderkull marry? In the devil s name, why?" [uttrouw de Kock was silent. Rich, and -Teat, and a general, but unmarried so she mi-lit still look on the meadow when the sun went down. THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 7 II IF the DC Kocks of Kitwyk were poor, on the other hand the De Kocks of Amsterdam were exceedingly rich. So sensitive was Myn heer de Kock of Amsterdam that it made him ill to look at a beggar. liven Mynheer de Kock s black poodle howled at the sight of a shabby passer-by. Mynheer was fat and choleric in a silent way, Mevrouw de Kock was fat and stony in a silent way. They sat opposite each other at two windows overlooking the canal, and while he smoked and drank tea, she knitted and drank tea. They both abhorred commo tion, and the\ shrank together in sympathy when young Bentinck de Kock stormed in. If Mynheer could have summoned up enough energy to wonder, perhaps he would have wondered how he and Mevrouw de Kock could have been responsible for anything so lively as Bentinck. The effort of seeing him enjoy life exhausted them. 1 I is appearance \vas so agitating that no sooner \vas he gone than his mother and la ther and the black poodle at once tell asleep from sheer weariness. s KUWYK STOKIKS "\\h\ do you smile so much?" Mynheer once asked him in his exasperation. " Because lite is so pleasant, and 1 am your son." he answered t^aily. "\ounu; man, do I smile in that inane lashion ? " "Ah. Mynheer, you have no such reason," the other answered lightly; "tor you arc: my father." lie had l>een turned out ot several educa tional establishments and two universities by reason ot his liveliness, hut he resigned him self to an uncompleted education with perfect composure: until he decided that lor a broad ening ot pure worldly knowledge there is no thing like travel, especially in the direction ot Paris. Mvnheer and Mevrouw were so exhausted by the mere sivdit ot seeing their son enjoy life that they consented with alacrity, their only condition bemv; that he must take old (iimborn with him on his travels. In the days when Mynheer de Kock was a magnate in the k.a^t India trade, (iimborn traveled for the house in t ie spice and coftee line. \O\\- he shaved Mynheer, ran his er rands, and was the medium through which THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 9 worldly gossip reached his master s ears. Mynheer had such a respect for his shrewd ness that he was bestowed on Bentinck as a precious talisman to shield him from de struction. Mynheer de Kock saw his son and his mentor start safely off, and then he imme diately went to bed and slept an untroubled sleep, which might have been less peaceful had he been aware that, after traveling in great harmony for two hours, Bentinck parted from old Gimborn and a well-filled purse at a very pleasing watering-place which Gimborn always wished to visit, while Mynheer Ben tinck proceeded to face alone the dangers of a higher education in Paris. For three months Mynheer and Mevrouw de Kock and the black poodle reveled in pro found repose. But the blissful dream came to an end. A letter to Mynheer from a serious friend in Paris recommended that young Ben tinck be speedily recalled home, because here followed a communication which all but made his wig stand on end. He stared at the missive with its great seals ; he would have turned redder had that been possible; then he dashed the epistle on the window-sill with a bang that petrified Mevrouw and the poodle. io KITXVVK STOK1KS " \\ hat ? " Mevrouw stammered. "What?" Hentinck ? " Mevrouw continued, with, tor her, frightful loquacity. " In-ntinck . J Ves, Hentinck ! " and Myn heer thrust the letter into the deepest pocket ot his dressing- gown. "And now, Mevrouw de I\oc:k now that your son has seen the world, the question is, blexem! how to make him forget it." In two weeks the reluctant lientinck re turned in company with the broken reed on which he had leaned to so little profit. "I gave my son into your keeping, Gim- born, and what have you returned . J " Mynheer demanded. ( )ld Gimborn coughed, and nibbled at his cap. I he culprit passed the door at that mo ment whistling a time of a God-forsaken na ture. Mynheer shuddered, and produced the awful letter. " I )o you see that, (iimborn? I )id I not sav to you when you started, I )oor to be locked at nine every night ? " Here \oung lientinck sauntered in. and ga/ed at the letter as at an old acquaintance. " M v n heer, ( iimborn is innocent. 1 he door THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 11 was locked at nine every night. I saw to it myself; but, you see, there were two doors to the room, and 1 am afraid I must have <jot o out by the other." " Young Mynheer de Kock," -and the old gentleman shook with rage, "you have taken this little journey into the world on your own account, and now, blexem ! you shall take one on mine. Our cousin in Kitwyk, at my ex press wish, accepts you as his guest for the present. He thinks Kitwyk may be rather dull for such a gay young gentleman, but go you shall." And so young Bentinck went. in Ii Overste de Kock had an ideal in life, it was General Donderkull. General Don- derkull, outstretched in a bamboo loung- inir-chair in his Batavian bungalow, a vision O O in white linen and an apoplectic counte nance, refreshing his martial soul with a cool drink, was haunted by something, he; did not know what. It was a very rare occurrence, as in consequence of his high position he resigned all personal thinking 12 KITWYK STORIKS to his aide-de-camp. His adjutant was sum moned. " \\ hat did I say to you last ni^ht at quarter past ei^ht ? " "\our Excellency was so ^ood as to say that you thought ot marrying, and that the future [Excellency must be yoiin<4 and pivtt\. \ on further said that you would write to a trie nd in Holland who used to buy your horses, to choose a bride and send her over. Io save yourself trouble, you would marry her future ladyship in I lolland by proxy." " So I did," his Excellency cried in hi^h L^ ond humor. " \ on shall write the letter, and I will siLMi it. 1 ell ( )verste de Kock ot I\it\\-yk to send me a bride at once. \ on know just what I want, and and- here his Excellency was lost in thought "I think !) Kock once had a sister, though I m not sure. At all events, present my respectful compliments; there may be such a person." ( )\i; autumn day Kitwyk was stirred to its center by the announcement that ( )verste d<- IMH k had recci\"ed t\\o letters in one day. 1 he next morning, as [ullrouw de Kock was trying wattles, he appearedi in hi^ h ^ood humor. THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 13 " So they all need you, Overstc dc Kock ! The rich DC Kock of Amsterdam as well as the great General Donderkull ! " " From whom is the other letter, Cornells ? " "From General Donderkull," and he drew himself up and saluted. " What what does he want ? " "The old ass I speak now in a purely civil sense, Juffromv wants to marry. What are you smiling at?" " So he has not forgotten." " Forgotten what ? " " Forgotten me," and a faint glo\v crept up her cheek. " And what have you to do with it ? It is n t such as you he wants. He wants youth and beauty, ha ! ha ! lie leaves it all to me. I am to choose her and marry her, for he can not come over here, and she is to be sent to Java without delay." So, while Overste de Kock, with a sense of new importance, stalked down to the village in search of a bride for his Fxccllency, Jtif- frouw de Kock raked together the cinders of two burnt waffles immolated on the shrine of memory. When Overste de Kock appeared, his prog- 14 KITYVYK STORIHS ress was like a triumphal procession. Fathers lured him into \\illiam the Silent, he was courtesied to at tin: distance of halt a mile, his health was a suliject ol frantic interest, and the next Sunday at church he eclipsed in interest even the ne\v candidate, and when the school master struck up the hymn, To Thee from whom ;ill l>lcs>inu-- flow. every maternal eye was steadily set in the di rection ot ( )verste de I\ock. 1 or the lirst time 1 en Brink was overrun with visitors. So lull were the rooms ot as pirants for the hand of ( ieiieral Donderkull that one day, when the ^reat Mevrouw van Loo was announced, there was not an inch ot room tor her. A yellow chariot with a Mack hood deposited her at the old toot bridge. \\hile the youth ot Ivitwyk, in nightcap and wooden shoes, looked admiringly on, and traced with then" dirty torelm^vrs the noble crot ot the \ an Loos on the chariot door. In this strait her ladyship was shown to the banquetin^-hall ol I en Brink. She resolutely ignored the I )e Kock s undergarments han^"- inv; up to dry, tor she was above everything a mother. THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 15 So close they sat, she and the captain, that her bird of paradise all but nipped his wig, while the linen flapped softly about them. No one will ever know the details of this inter- vie\v, but before long- a rumor dashed the bud ding hopes of Kitwyk that Overste de Kock had selected young Janet van Loo to be the future Excellency Donderkull. IV Youxfr Janet van Loo was reared by her parent as if that estimable woman had not been a mother, but a drum-major. Every morning- she was terrified out of a sound sleep by a L>-oni> - which had been brought from China <z> *j> o years before by a Van Loo without nerves. In the Spanish days some old Van Loo had probably been a traitor to traditions, and loved where he should have hated ; and one fine day -for crime will out the old Spanish type reappeared with tragic dark eyes, midnight hair, and a mouth curved to a wistful beauty, in the face of a young Dutch maid, with a lace cap on her dusky locks, and under it a golden helmet worn by the ladies Van Loo since be fore the days of Philip II. 16 KITWYK STORIKS Janet \ an Loo recognized in her heart only a strictly necessary or^an ; \\hile as lor love, Heaven and Mcvrouw forbid! At this time an extraordinary event took place in l\it\\yk the ladies ol Kitwyk ap peared mornings at the pump without their nightcaps ! And the cause? \\Y11, the cause lolled gracefully in the porch of William the Silent, ins cocked hat rather back on his handsome head. Such a youn^ and gallant stranger! 1 he gentlemen ol Kitwyk were; mostly elderly, and the stray examples ol youth were ol a heavy pattern \vho would do to marry, ol course, but with whom no one ever tell in love. AloiiLJ the mansion ol fonkheervan Loo ran a deep canal. A solt breeze rippled its quiet surface, and swayed the brakes and reeds and willow-bushes alon^ its banks, and tinkled the bells ol the Chinese pagoda. In the pa L^oda, in the arm-chair of jonkheer van 1 ,00, sat his only dau ^hte]- knitting and deej) in thought. She looked up at sound ol her name. loin I )elre-"L(e stood in the doorway, and there was a coquettish tilt to her cap which troubled Mistress van Loo. Her dark-blue - "own was THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 17 discreetly short, and so were the sleeves caught below the elbow, while the linen ker chief crossed on her breast revealed the sweet est round throat ; and when she laughed she threw back her head, and one. saw two da/- /ling rows of little teeth and Juffrouw I)e- fregge was just seventeen. She was palpitat ing with important information. " How I have hurried, Janet ! Never have I seen one so handsome and with such an air " " So you have seen him, Toni ?" Mistress Defregge s face fell. " Why, then you ve seen him too, and never told me ! "Why should you care? lie has been here a week. Has he not lovely feathers? " "Janet, of whom are you talking?" " Of our new rooster." Janet, I speak of a young man." " Is that all ! " " You don t know what you are talking about." Juffrouw van Loo was placidly nettled. "What is there to see in a young man? I lave I not my father? If he wore teeth like Mevrouw van Laan and had his hair, would he not be; a young man ?" iS KITWYK STORIES " That is not enough, Janet. This yoiin^- Mynheer is tall and most sweetly thin; we met at tin: pump, and he looked at me so," and Toni I Vlre^e threw a languishing glance at the \ an Loo call that strolled into view. " I took the pump-handle, but before I could move it he was beside me. Saul he, \\ith such a bow, such a sweep ol his hat, and, Janet, such a hat !- Permit me to serve you, lair Jullrouw. lie pumped with such sweet LH ace ! Whereupon 1 drank slowly, \\ith one eye cast down as beseems a maid, but with the other I peeped over the mui^. What clothes ! Then he takes the dipper, and drinks ri^ ht alter me, and does so" here [ulfrouw | )(.|,- ( . ^o c unburdened herself ol a prodigious si-h. " lie was not a cleanly youu^ man," Jut frou\\- van Loo remarked with conviction. " I b- said it tastetl all the sweeter; you do not understand, these things, Janet." "Oh oh!" Mistress Defreeze looked at her shoe- buckle. "It would be very pleasant to love such a \~oun LJ Mvnheer. " I should like to love such a youne; Myn heer." THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 19 " Well, why don t you ? " " I don t know how to bemn." O "Ask your father. lie is Burgomaster; he ought to know. But why do you wish to love a stranger when you have your father ? " " Janet," Toni whispered, " it would be very pleasing if he should like me, too." " But why should he ? " " I don t know, only I have heard that young maids and young men do sometimes like each other." " Have you, Toni ? I will ask mother ; she will know." " Janet, if you ever marry, would you rather he d be young or old ? " " It makes no difference, Toni ; only he must be just like papa." "Janet, I would rather mine were not at all like my father." " Toni, that is wicked ! " " I cannot help it. Ever since the pump I think of things that I never dreamed of be fore. Janet, do you believe that Mevrouw, your mother, ever loved Jonkheer van Loo, your father ? " Janet looked unspeakably shocked. " Oh, Toni, never !" 20 KITWYK STOKIKS "A foolish question. I should have kno\\n. It is, ot course, the people \\lio do not marry who love each other." i or tile first time in her lite jutTromv van Loo wondered. Two days after, she thus ad dressed her mother : "Mother, were you ever in love with father?" \\ ho c\in describe the resentment, the con sternation, of that superior woman ! "In love with your father? Who has dared Mevrouw gasped for breath. " I oni I )elre^e wishes to love a youn^ Mynheer, and am I not as old as she is? It is time that I did, for it 1 marry I shall have no more chance." Whereupon Mevrouw felt truly that the ^ reat round, level earth had Lj iven wav under her. Two youn^ maids met near the pump. " |anet, there he is ! "Who, Toni?" "You dull thin-- 1 The youn^ Mynheer. In the tavern porch. Are you looking?" " Y-ves. Toni." THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 21 " Is he not a dream of a young Mynheer? " "I I how can I tell? Let me fill my pail." "Why, Janet, what ails you?" " Nothing, Toni, only it hardly befits a maid to stare at a strange young" man as you do. He feels it to be wrong, and he is , 4i & Mistress van Loo was mistaken. So far was young Mynheer de Kock from recogniz ing the impropriety of Mistress Defregge s conduct, that he strolled over to the pump and inundated her pail with crystal-clear water until it threatened Mistress Defregge s high- heeled shoes. And such a pretense as she made to raise her pail, and fail, whereupon he gallantly came to her aid, and so they carried it off between them, she looking at him round the dangling gold fretwork on her cheek. Never was there a pail that reached its desti nation so empty, and Juffrouw van Loo, look ing after, grieved for the wasted water, and then with a sigh went slowly home. Her mother stood at the door of the best room. "Come in, Janet; I have something very pleasant to tell you." Never before had Mevrouw spoken to her in such gentle tones. 22 K1TYVYK STnKlKS It was the sacred room trom which all Van Loos were married or buried. I hree centu ries ot them looked down trom the chilly walls. An oak table imprisoned a sola upon which it was an honor but not a joy to sit, and twelve ri^id chairs punctuated the apartment. The slippery floor represented the. unfaltering en ergy of the ladies \ an Loo, while a white- tiled stove in a corner was capable oi striking a chill to the brightest tire. ( )verste de Ivock sat in the seat ot honor on the sofa, while fonkheer van Loo drummed a perplexed tune on the polished table, \vhere- ii] K m Mevrouw scowled. ( )\-erste de Kock broke the silence. " 1 )o you wonder \\ hy we wish to speak to you, my child?" " [uffrotuv \ an Loo never wonders." "You are n^ ht, as always, Mevrouw van Loo. Let us put it differently. Have you ever thought ot marrying, fuffrouw?" " Pardon me. Mynheer. fuffrouw van Loo has never been allowed to consider such such such tnv< dities." " 1 hen in I leaven s name manage it your sell, Mevrouw ! THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 23 A flush crept up to Juffrouw van Loo s lace cap, and her heart beat fast. " Janet,"- -Mevrouw undertook the task with no waste of sentiment, "your hand has been asked in marriage, and we have given our consent. It is a good match even for a \ an Loo, and it was all owing" to your mother, child, that the choice did not fall on that minx Toni I )efregge. What have you to say, Janet?" Juffrouw van Loo Hushed, hesitated, then spoke;, hanging her head, " Mother, is is he young ? " "And may I ask, Juffrouw van Loo, what that is to you ? " "Nothing nothing," she murmured, and listened absently to the biography of General I )onderkull, while her ill-regulated mind would stray to the market-place, where two sauntered across the cobblestones in the morning sun light, a water-pail between them, and the water splashing, while the young Mynheer looked down into the eyes of his companion with a glance that hitherto had been ignored in the education oi Juffrouw van Loo. 24 KITWYK STOKIKS Yor\<; Bentinck de Kock li;ul been ex pected l>y Overste de Kock in an attitude ol armed neutrality. On a misty, early autumn day the castle moat was choked with leaves there \vas a knock at the front door, and [ullrouw de Kock found a gallant youn^ man reposing on the chintx cushions ol the settle, who examined the simple outlines ot Kitwyk with a rueful visage. 1 Ie sprang to his leet. "I know who you arc 1 ; you are Hetje de Kock, and I am a black sheep sent out to pasture I am Bentinck de Kock." ( )verste de Kock received the black sheep sternly. " Xone ot your tricks here, youn^" man, blexem ! I he ways ot Paris and Kit wyk are not the same." "As it I did n t know !" and youn^ Myn heer remembered the cobblestones ot Kitwyk. "All the same," Overste de Kock be^an, then interrupted himselt. "\\hat are you staring at, futtrouw de Kock? ( 10 and air VOUIIL;" Bentinck s bed." The L! <>d ladv retired most unwillinL l\-. THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 25 " And now, Bentinck, as between man and man, what about Paris ? " Juttrouw de Kock lived in a dream. To her young" Bentinck was a realization of old fancies, while Overste de Kock never tired of the young rascal s accounts of those sinful Paris days. I le roared, and he beat his thin knees, and his eyes overflowed with innocent admiration. "And that fool of a De Kock of Amster dam cannot appreciate this paragon of a boy! God forgive him ! " he cried. To please her young idol, Juifrouw de Kock evolved culinary miracles, and the result was J gout, at least for the captain, and the very day he lay helpless, swathed in flannel, there came to him a package from Java. It was a miniature painted on ivory, and attached to a fine gold necklace. " For my bride," General Donderkull wrote placidly, " a betrothal present. I wish the betrothal and wedding to take place at once." "The old fool wants to be married at once-, and how can he when I am laid up with the gout ? " "And and what is that?" asked his sister. 2(> KITWYK SToKIKS " Hie old idiot s picture. A present tor his bride u^h ! " " Let llle See it." A fat mail \vith a pear-shaped head deep set between his shoulders, a scarlet lace, a lit tle po\vdered u l^ , a tiidit uiiitonii, and no end ot buttons. She stroked it gently, and sighed. " Cornells," she spoke at last, " may may I brine; her the picture? 1 I should like to o-ive her a little happiness, though she has si > m uch. " [uttrotuv de Kock, \<>u are. undoubtedly mad." She made ereat [(reparations. Wearing an old brocaded black silk that had been her mother s, and about her shoulders a crape scarf, and her coal-scuttle bonnet over her best cap, and with an embroidered reticule on her arm, she passed the kitchen. Youiie; lientinck, drumming idly on the window, sprang down the steps alter her. " Ma\ 1 e;o with YOU. ( ousm Betje? 11 Xot this time, Hentinck. I L;"O only to juttrouw \ an l.oos. I I nave a message lor her." "The YOUIIL; maid \\ith the strange, d.irk e\ es J . \\ as there ever siu h a 1 Mitch maid ! TIIK COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 27 " She is indeed very beautiful." "And this beautiful young maid is willing to marry an old man, I hear." " A man so great has a ri^ht to youth and O O J beauty," she said proudly as she turned away. Tin: old woman took both the girl s hands, and gazed at her with wistful eyes. "You have so much happiness, dear child; but I wish a little to come from me. It is only the whim of an old woman." "And what makes you think I am so happy, Juffrouw de Kock ? " "A young girl, just betrothed to so great and distinguished a man," Juffrouw said under her breath. "That ma)- well be, but I do not know him." " But when you do know him see, I have brought what in all the world you will prize most his picture, which he sends to you, my child. I begged to be allowed to bring it to you because of of is it not noble?" she asked tremulously. " And and is that he?" " Yes, dear child ; that is he. Is he not splendid ? " 28 KITWYK STURIKS "And I I am to marry this del man? I he u irl hid her tact: on tin- sacred table as if tears could not stain; and the miniature of General 1 )onderkull tell on the floor. In an instant the other picked up the pic ture, and rubbed it with awe-struck hands. " \Yhat ails you, child?" "I I will not marry him, Xo; I will not - never never ! " \ on will not marry what?" and in the 1 doorway loomed Mevrouw her mother. "\\hat have you in your hands, [uftrouw de Kock?" "It is the miniature- of of ( ieiieral l)on- derkull a !_dft to his betrothed." "How tine a man, and how prosperous he looks, and was there ever a handsomer iM ld setting? And it seems to me, fanet, as if his Excellency has a look of your father." "He looks just like papa," futtrouw van Loo cried in a burst of ^ricf. And who can account tor the inconsistencies of the human heart when that which, a tew weeks before, Juftrouw van Loo considered an essential to a happy marriage, now nearly broke her heart . J THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 29 VII JUFFROUW VAX Loo s consent being of no consequence, it was decided that the betrothal was to take place at once, followed by the marriage ; then she was to sail for Java as soon as possible. Juffrouw Rozenboom, the one milliner and dressmaker of Kitwyk, had to sew day and night to complete the toilets. There were those who remarked that Juffrouw Rozen- boom s creations bore a striking resemblance to each other. Overste de Kock unearthed his uniform to do honor to his position as proxy bridegroom, and he looked very grand, and smellcd strongly of camphor. It was the last autumn day, and a frost had touched the garden flowers, the falling leaves whirled along the cobblestones, and the chest nut trees about the church were bare. In the mansion of Van Loo there was a sense of solemn festivity. In a grim myrtle arbor at the head of the grim best room were placed two forbidding chairs. In one sat Juffrouw van Loo, waiting for the representative of the L>Tcat General Donderkull. There was a 30 KI I \VVK STMKIKS commendable absence of joy. and tin- Van Loos present were so old and interior that the miniature ot (ieneral Donderkull reposing on the breast ot the bride gained by contrast. A disapproving murmur trom the Van Loos was distinctly audible as the door opened. " fanet. this is a most unexpected change; Imt as the Burgomaster is waiting, we will ^ () -" [uttromv van Loo looked up with supreme inditference ; then her heart stopped beating, and then it beat like a hammer, \\hen- was ( )verste de I\ock ? \Vhat business had he here whose brown eves looked into hers lor the tirst time with such pity? A ^ reat red (lush swept over her pale face, and tor a mo ment the miniature ot (ieneral I )onderkull had an uneasy resting-place. " My cousin was suddenly taken ill," Heii- tmck explained, "and my unworthy sell he chose to take his place, and that that ot the happy - 1 lere he e^a/ed at the old face in the minia ture, and then once a^ain into the dark eyes that met his with a glance of defiance. So it was. Captain de Kock was stricken with the L^ ont. and postponement was impos- "- i - - -."/- - -X fe * vr^ i *; v< *** ,^ .^-*i . VSl THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 31 sible, for who can tell when a gout-afflicted man will be released from his foe ? " Let young" Bentinck take my place," he roared in pain ; and so Mynheer de Rock was reluctantly ushered into the presence of his temporary bride, who laid her little cold hand in his, and, followed by the Van Loos, they crossed the market-place to the town hall, where they declared their marriage intentions in due form, and for the first time in his life General Donderkull appeared in the person of a young and gallant man. In the myrtle arbor young Bentinck whis pered, " You are now my betrothed, so at least I may kiss your hand, Juitrouw," and his brown eyes flashed as he bent his head, while the roses swept to the golden bangles against her cheek, and she said not a word, only watched him, her lips parted. So they sat side by side in the myrtle prison, and the Van Loos present filed past. The first day there was a rosy flush in Juf- frouw van Loo s face and her eyes sparkled, and as Mevrouw made a parting courtesy of a gorgeous nature to a Van Loo much greater and richer than herself, she shuddered at the sound of a gay young laugh. 32 KITWYK STOK1F.S i lei prophetic ry< darted toward the myrtle arbor, and discovered youn^" Mynheer look in^" at his bride with a glance most undesira ble in a temporal } bridegroom, while the bride smiled and played with her tan, and both were supremely indifferent to a shoal of \"an Loos blocked before them and bursting with congratulations to which no one listened. At sound of her mother s voice the bride turned pale, and at that moment Mevrouw, to her horror, made.: another discovery: the miniature of the worthy general had disap peared. She waited till the last \ an Loo was bowed out, and then she asked, " \\ here is the picture of your bridegroom ? " " It tired my thro.it, and 1 took it off," and out of the back of the chair she produced that work of art. " And is this how you treat the portrait of your distinguished husband, you wicked -irf?" " l)iit, mother, he is not my husband yet, thank I leaven Mevrouw van Loo sta^ ered back in horror. "Put it on instantly 1 \\hat will people sav ! This is is a scandal THK COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 33 Juffrouw van Loo turned still paler, and Mynheer de Kock rose with such haste that he kicked over his myrtle-crowned chair. " Mevrouw van Loo," said her daughter, " I am tired of seeing this good man s face. It will be my fate to see it for the rest of my life ; be pleased, therefore, to let me forget the sight of it for at least these two weeks." Mevrouw shook to her bird of paradise. " Put it on instantly ! " and with her own un gentle hands she clasped the gold chain about her daughter s throat. Juffrouw van Loo gazed at the medallion. She held a fan in her hand, and the ivory sticks broke with a sudden snap. " Mother, believe me, it would be better if if I did not see it these days." " I say you shall every day." It did seem as if the painted Van Loos gazed down on her with growing disfavor, as if they suspected in their painted minds that a\ an Loo so disgracefully Spanish must take after that treacherous ancestor who had shown himself so unworthy of his race in having a heart. Perhaps it was the bride s imagina tion, but it seemed to her as if the good peo ple who offered their congratulations gazed U KITWVK STOKIKS curiously at that red lace on her breast, and threw contrasting glances at \oun^ Mynh<-<T de Kock. \\ ho, as the days passed, !_n~ew more silent and unsmiling. \\ hen his duties were over, and he returned to Ten Brink, not a word could the captain or his sister _^et out ot him, hut he paced his room halt the ni^ ht, to the dismay ot the old woman. Two days l>ctore the wedding, when Kit- wyk awoke, a black trost had struck the ditches and canals. The meadows had turned a russet-brown, and the herds were lowing in the barns, while the win^s of the windmills swun^" as it tor warmth. I he sky was blue, and the sun shone clear, while the wind cut like a lash, [uttrouw van Loo stood at the window, L^a/in^ wistlully out where a stretch of the Kitwyk canal lay Iro/en stilt" be tween the bare willow-bushes and the dry reeds, as the door opened and voting Myn heer de Kock appeared, his tace a^ low with bulletin^ the A\ind. "Come out with me, [ullrouw Janet," he ur^ ed, "and gather roses tor your cheeks." " It is the last winter I shall see." She looked down at the medallion, and then up into his ea j er tace, and tried to smile. THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAX LOO 35 " I shall never see again the frozen canal where I have skated so many a time. And I should like to skate once again before be fore " she looked up at him with eyes lull of tears. " If the ice is strong enough." <j> <i_> "That is nothing to me." O " Xor to me. Let us go." There was one point of the canal soonest frozen. The bride sat on the bank, and the bridegroom strapped on the skates with the great, bold curves, and Juffrouw van Loo s roses came back in all their glory. She bur ied her hands deeper in her big- muff, and her rosy chin in the long" black boa wound about her throat. Over her cap she wore a great black hat, and in its shade she watched him silently while he fastened the skates, the blood tingling to his curly brown hair as he knelt before her. Was there ever a fairer Dutch maid, as she Hew across the ice the click of the skates, the sparkle of her eyes, and the roses in her cheeks, and every instant under the full blue petticoats the: glimpse of a buckled shoe and a red stocking? On and on they flew, and the light clasp of their two hands o rew closer and closer, and ;/> KITWVK STORIKS in Mil looking straight before them their eyes be^an to seek earh other, until their glances met in one passionate look, ami as it with one accord they crept closer and closer together, ami at last, always living like the wind, his arm was about her, and just as they reached the: shelter ot a willow-tree, her head, cap, ami all, lay on his breast, and Mynheer de Kock, bending his handsome head, kissed the red lips ot fultromv van Loo once twice why count? until [uttrouw van Loo, with a passionate sob, pushed him away, and cried: "And I am to be married in two days, ( md f< u ^ive me ! Here the ice L^ave a frightful crack, bein^ too weak to uphold such passionate lovers, and they would assuredly have ^ one under had not Hentmck grasped the friendly willow, while lie upheld (ultrouw van Loo, who trem bled as it the icy water had re-ached her poor, weak heart. lie lilted her to the bank, and knelt before her to unbuckle the skates. "Take me home 1 ( )h, take me home!" she cried. "See how unworthy I am to be a -ond man s wile ! "You unworthy! O my darling! Only m ive me the ri^ ht to call you mine." THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 37 "What right have I?" she sobbed, and stumbled to her feet. " O Mynheer, forget how weak and wicked I have been, and take me home." The sun curved toward the west, the wind was dying away. Not a word did either speak, but, as if with one accord, they walked apart in the narrow path beside the canal. Only when their eyes met, it was like a mag net to draw them together. They passed the turning windmills, and here and there a barge frozen in the canal, the skipper on deck sur veying the situation with philosophy while he [Kitted at his pipe. " "Why waste the road between you, my pretty ones?" an ancient man called after them. " To-morrow you can skate to Rotterdam, little dame," another friendly soul roared at them from a barge; ; " and would n t I like to be the youm/ Mynheer to buckle on your y r-> ^ j skates?" Yes ; they came back, and the green ar bor received them once more, and Mevrouw proved to be a false prophet. KITWYK STORIES WILLIAM TIM: SILK NT overflowed with rich \ an Loos, all gratified to be so soon related to the invat General Donderkull. And the- church bells swtin^ lustily in honor ot his wedding-day. They cut the cold, clear air until the ships on the Ztiyder Zee, IHIL;- LMUL; the shore 1 , heard the: jang le. I i IK wedding \\ as over. It was the coldest, clearest winter ni^ht. The moon sailed hivdi in heaven, aiul the landscape \vas an etching in black and white. 1 he mansion of fonkheer van Loo was a hlaxe ot li.Ldit. Through the main hall, tiled with blue deltt and hune; \\-ith festoons ot ever green, through the best room and the living- rooms, the tables \\-ere set to the idory ot \ an Loo. < )n the open hearth bla/ed a tire ot peat and wood that touched with flickering li^ ht the winding stairs down which the bride descended, her hand in l>entinck de Kock s, l()ll()\\cd by all the rich and vreat and hungry \ an I .oos. I here \\-as little attention paid to the or to the voim 1 M\ iiheer who had so kind THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 39 filled the place of that great and absent man, and so the two under the canopy, being of all apparently of the least consequence, came ever nearer together, until the white arm of her O Excellency touched the velvet sleeve of the bridegroom. At the sudden contact, which seemed to thrill, she turned white and he red. The greatest Van Loo was just deciphering a speech as the bride dropped her lace hand kerchief, and the bridegroom stooped to where it lay at her feet. How it happened who can tell ? but he touched her hand under the folds of the heavy Dutch damask. " Is this to be the end of all our happiness, my darling ? " She looked down, and two tears fell on her folded hands. " It is too late." "It is not too late," he answered in pas sionate protest. "You are my wife; you have plighted your troth to me in the sight of God, and not to that old fool," and he frowned at the picture on young Mevrouw Donderkull s breast. "Why will you break my heart and wreck both our lives? It is I who am your husband ! I, Janet do you hear me?" and he. leaned across the arm ol her chair. 40 KITWYK STOKIKS " Listen, love; I am your husband, and not that unknown old man who bought you. It your parents seek wealth, why, they shall be satisfied, tor the I )e Kocks of Amsterdam are rich. My darling, come with me ! Come with me to niedit, dearest! I \\ill brm^ you to my parents house. I will tell them because ot you I shall be a better man and a. better son, and they will love you." " But but how," she asked shyly, "with all the canals Iroxen ? " " If a Dutch Mynheer has skated to battle, surely he can skate to love." I ATK announces itself in such various shapes. I his day it joined toward kitwyk in a yellow post chaise. I here was a letter for Ten Brink demanding haste, and in the process of time the post-chaise SWUIIL;" up to the foot bridge \\here, forty years before, Ln- si ^n Donderkull disappeared forever out of the si^ht of (uttrouw de Kock. It was nine o clock, and the \ an Loo banquet had lasted since two. Two united guests did not come, but no one missed them. Overate de kiick declared he U Ollld see them before he would !(>, THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 41 tor all the Van Loos had ignored him to a man, and Juffrouw do Kock sat by the kitchen window and looked out on the meadow. She took a withered flower out of her Bible, and held it over the flames on the hearth ; but she hesitated, and then put it back a^ain between the leaves of the book. There was a sharp knock at the door. A o-reat letter with five black seals for Overste de Kock. He tore it open, read it like one dazed, and the letter fell on the floor between them. Then Juffrouw de Kock covered her head with her apron, and wept as she had not wept for forty years. Tin-; moonlight fell over the still garden of Van Loo, and the shadows of the: bare trees lay heavy on the narrow path by the canal where they stood, Bentinck de Kock and the young Excellency Donderkull, a dark cloak over her white wedding-gown. For one mo ment she hid her face on his breast and sobbed. " I lave you the heart? " he cried, and kissed her eyes and lips. " Yes; better now, better so," and she tore herself out of his clasp. 42 KI r\VYK ST<>R!i;s "My love my lile--I cannot let you ^ o. Janet, do you not see how I sutler " "So you call that sutlerin^. Mynheei de Ixock ? " and between them loomed the cap tain. "And what are you doine; here, |ul- In uiw \ an Loo ? " "Hush, Cornells! It was Jultrouw de Kock s gentle voice. "My child, hasten home before you are missed; we are on our way to your parents with sorrowful tidings." "So, you rascal, we were just in time to save you two youn^ fools, it seems 1 " She only came to bid me farewell what ever my own mad hopes mi^ ht have been. I love her, and I wished to save her trom this frightful old man." I here was a quiet touch on his arm. " I>en- tinck, my dear, LM> home, and thank ( jod that the yonnL; maid loved you and her honor more than haj)piness." IX I\ Mevrouw s room they stared an^nl\ at the messengers of trouble, as it they were re sponsil de. Mevrouw spoke at last. "And he died six THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 43 weeks ago? Why, then, this is no wedding at all! My poor Janet so so reconciled to it. I have had my doubts recently, Overste de Kock. I considered him too old ; but you would have it, and I dare say you meant well." And, after all this willingness, to have no occasion for it, Mevrouw lamented. " Ex cellency Donderkull how well it sounded, poor child ! And already six weeks dead ! " "Died after sending his picture." "If the child only has another chance," Mevrouw groaned "a child that s been partly married; it s so so improper." " A CHANCE in the garden was taking time by the forelock," the captain growled. " Mevrouw, grant me a favor? " "What is it, Juffrouw de Kock? What ails you ? " " Let me tell her." She hesitated on the threshold, and Janet ran toward her. " Something has happened, Juftrouw P>etje is Bentinck " " Is there no one else- in all the world, child?" Negligently thrown down on the table lay tin- miniature <>( an old man. Juilrouw de 44 KITWYK STOR1KS Kock paused, and her hand touched the pol ished ivory. "For pity s sake, what has happened?" " It I should tell you, child, that you can not marry this man, that your marriage ol to-day was no marriage, what would you say?" " I should thank ( iod." "Cruel! cruel! but thank (iod, then, if you can," and the tears tell do\\ n the old cheeks as she took the picture in her hands, " tor he is dead." " Dead !" " Ami you are a^ain futtromv van Loo, and you can love whom you will," she added with a quick jealousy tor the one who was dead. " luttrouw de Kock forgive me it I hurt you, luit why do you so ^rieve tor the one who is L^ one and whom you have not seen tor so many years ? " |uttrouw de Kock hid her lace in her lon^ white apron before she spoke. "Because I loved him once": then lower and lower, as it it were a crime, " < >h. child, because I love him still! She telt t\\ o gentle hands about h< r neck, and her head lay against a \OUUL;" and 1< )\ im* heart. THE COURTING OF JUFFROUW VAN LOO 45 " I low can I comfort you ? " " Had you hut grieved, my child." " I kit how can I grieve for one I never saw ? " " I know, I know. Pi is death is your gain," and Juffrouw de Kock turned toward the door. "I I cannot comfort you, I cannot grieve as I ought but take this ; it should be yours." As Juffrouw de Kock hurried through the lane of poplar-trees, she held the miniature close in her hands, and her tears fell so thick and fast that she stumbled over the dead leaves. Till-: FACTIONS OF KITWYK A 1 T sunset the canal at Kitwvk lav across silence everywhere, except for the monoto nous croak of the bullfrogs and the melan choly chant of the crickets. On the banks of the (\anal loomed the Kitwyk windmill, its black sails heavily at rest, and on the horizon against the sunset a silhouette of wind-blown poplars, a disordered slant of queer Cabled roots, while a church spire and the flapping sail of an idle bar^e were strangely entangled and etched against the copper disk of the setting sun. I adm^" away into the misty dis tance stood a phalanx of windmills, their sails set to the last breath of the wind as it went down. As the copper disk sank, it was the signal for a li^ ht in the window of the Kitwyk mill, by which Kitwyk knew that I )ivine Provi dence and )ultrouw van (icldern announced THE FACTIONS OF KITVVYK 47 the day to be at an end. Answering lights began to twinkle in the Burgomaster s house on the market-place; in the kitchen window of the castle of Ten Brink, where Juffrouw de Rock dozed gently over her Bible ; lastly, in the mansion of the great Jonkheer van Loo. Not only was he great because of an ancestry that had contributed a martyr to the Duke of Alva, but because of the grandeur of Me- vroiuv, his wife. It is perhaps sufficient to state that Mevrouw possessed the one black velvet gown ot Kitwyk, besides a bird of paradise, which on worthy occasions graced the noble structure on her head ; at which time, also, a mighty gold watch dangled heavily before her. So conscious and loud was the tick of this stately timepiece that it had kept many a sleepy soul awake when the good dominie s sermon invited to repose. For fifty years this excellent man expounded, and then he died, leaving Kitwyk plunged in a turmoil of excitement ; for rival candidates appeared, who pounded the pulpit cushions and roared to the glory of God. For the first time in the history of the church the select little band of martyrs in the gallery, who pipe.d the hymns under the direction of the 4-S KITWYK STOK1KS schoolmaster, and the inspiring strains of Kobus, the town trumpeter, were sufficiently awake to require no prodding from the sc xton with a long pole, the other end of which was furnished with a contribution-bag. 1 he excitement in Kitwyk culminated when 1 Burgomaster I )efregge and Mevrouw van Loo each in turn produced a candidate. 1 here was no illusion with respect to Mevrouw s candidate. He earned a weary living by edu cating the Van Loo heir, and bore witness in his own person to the active Christian charity of Mevrouw. He was open to such gifts as the righteous were inclined to bestow, who naturally felt tor him that contemptuous inter est aroused by the recognition of one s cast- oft clothes, so familiar a part of one s self, on another human being. So energetic wen; Mevrouw s efforts, that it was said she all but wrote his trial sermon; at all events she added the damnations that afterward electrified Kitwyk. It was an early bine morning: the wind mills were set against a glorious blue sky: the barges at anchor were scrubbed to the glory of dod. There was a la/y flap of dull red sail; the barge chimneys sent up a faint TFIF FACTIONS OF KITWYK 49 gray smoke, while the; clean lace curtains at the windows proclaimed the sacredness ol the day. The very brass knockers were; scrubbed to an offensive splendor, and in the gallery the; wooden shoes of the choir knocked against the railing with virtuous promptness : the; sex ton s rod was temporarily inactive. If Me- vromv van Loo sat in the chief seat right under the pulpit, on the other hand, the Bur gomaster faced her, being one ot live elders who in the circular pew about the pulpit had that sanctuary as support for their righteous backs. Many and many a Sunday had Mevrouw van Loo and Mynheer Defregge glared at each other throughout the; entire divine ser vice, while Jonkheer van Loo slept the sleep of the just, oblivious to the counsels of the wise; as well as to divine wrath. The procession to church was simple and effective: it consisted of the little candidate in gown, bands, and square cap, followed by his patroness in black velvet, and under her double chin a mighty miniature of Jonkheer van Loo. Two tow-headed urchins who by reason of their early piety were; selected to ring the 50 KITYVYK STORIKS church bell, arul whose energies had Ian guished as the last \\orshiper straggled into the sacred cditicc, becoming 1 aware of the ap proach ot Mevrouw in the wake ot her candi date, no sooner encountered her active eye, than they tolled with such energy that several pillars of the church \\en- prematurely awak ened, a terrible innovation prophetic ot evil. 1 he elders straightened up powerfully, the sexton culled the nearest boy, the schoolmas ter struck up a line old choral, and Kobus tooted till the rafters rang, as the little can didate pattered up the aisle, (lushing pain- hilly, while behind him strode Mevrouw van Loo, the black velvet, in which Kitwyk took a municipal pride, sweeping behind her. Such was her vainglory, Mynheer Defregge declared, thai she was about to mount into the pulpit, when In her triumphal progress she had jusi reached it, when the Burgomaster leaned over his pew, and whispered most audibly: " Mistress van Loo, he! he! he! which is your candidate ? " "Which?" In her interest in the affairs of Divine Prov idence she had tor the iirst time forgotten THE FACTIONS OF KITWYK 51 one of her household duties, and Divine 1 rov idence, with very little consideration lor her feeling s or her efforts, permitted a most la mentable sacrilege ; for with majestic stride, not unlike Mevrouw s, who should bring up the rear but the very biggest turkey-gobbler in all Kitwyk ! For a moment the two eyed each other the turkey reproachfully inquir ing for his breakfast, Mevrouw in speechless rage. Then Mevrouw sank on the pulpit stairs. It was the sexton who at the hazard of his life leaned over the gallery and swung the contribution-bag in the face of the mis taken fowl, which swelled with outraged dig- nit)-, but was otherwise unmoved. Kven the Burgomaster felt for Mevrouw. " Shoo ! " he cried, and waved his cocked hat at the bird over the pew rail, while the four elders threatened him with red bandana hand kerchiefs and gold-headed canes, which, com bined with an empty stomach, goaded him almost to madness. Overste de Kock, in vir tue of his military character, was about to leap forward and cope with the, enemy, but ]uf- frouw Rozenboom fainted just across the pew door, and there is really no knowing how it would have ended, had not jonkheer van Loo 52 KITWYK STORIES awakened to the- situation from a peaceful nap. " Bless me ! what is Ephraim doing here ? " he asked placidly. Kphraim was the turkey s domestic name. The candidate had retreated into the pulpit and bolted the door, he knew the ferocious character of turkeys, Mevrouw van Loo in a panic fled up the pulpit steps, while the tur key, shrieking after the manner ol his kind, stood at bay, with tail outspread against the pew door of the afflicted Juftrouw Rozenboom. Then it was that Jonkheer van Loo proved himself to be of the heroic stock of the Van Loo who suffered under Alva. Alone and unprotected he stepped into the aisle and confronted the enemy, which seemed to recognize the familiar scarlet countenance, for he partly lowered his tail, and retreated a step or two. " Why, Ephraim, you have n t had any breakfast, have you ? " said the heroic man. "Now come home with me!" which so con vinced the fowl that he lowered his tail and ambled out of the sanctuary, followed by his master, who thus forcibly demonstrated the advantages of a heroic ancestry, the congre- MEVRdUW S CANDIDA IK. THE SINGULAR CLEVERNESS OF TOBY VAN LOO I IL next candidate for the vacant pulpit of Kitwyk was the Burgomaster s. Rumors were conflicting ; newspapers were unknown ; but thank Heaven ! there was the town -pump. Everything in Kitwyk radiated from the town-pump, a great iron structure with a stout handle, at which Kitwyk had exercised its muscles since before the clays of the Span iards. The pump stood in the middle of the sleepy market-place, flanked on one side by the church, mildewing behind a row of chestnut- trees, and the town-hall, where a blindfolded Justice without a nose presided over the en trance. On the other side stood the tavern William the Silent, which once harbored that great man, whose grave face, with peaked beard and mighty ruff, decorated the swing ing sign, which creaked dismally when the .. .. SINGULAR CLEVERNESS OF TOBY VAN LOO 55 wind swept up from the Zuycler Zee. The two settles in the porch were never without a pair of worthy burghers, who smoked and stared into vacancy, occasionally roused to active earthly interest by the squeak of the town-pump. The code of etiquette of Kitwyk was most rigid : it was an unwritten law that no one- existed until afternoon. Although everybody had to go to the pump for water, and conse quently the ladies met there ever) morning, arrayed in a negligee of clogs and nightcaps, it was, nevertheless, decreed that Kitwyk was socially invisible in the morning, so that when these worthy dames met of an afternoon, they Look up their remarks not from pump-time, but from any previous meeting guiltless of nightcaps and clogs. When Mevrouw van Laan clattered across the market-place of an early morning, and with the help of a stout maid carried a great basket of snow-white: linen that had been bleaching on the meadow, she was socially invisible;, for not only was she. in her night cap, but she; was without her teeth. The latter were a startling innovation to which kitvvyk with difficulty had reconciled itself when Mevrouw, beme; of an adventurous na ture, brought them in triumph from Rotter- clam, years before. Rumor was active: in kitwyk, and a L^ eat deal of \\ ater was wasted at the pump. I he important Sunday arrived a hot July day, tempered by a la/y bree/e that flecked the scarlet poppies in the wheat-fields, the yellow lur/e by the roadside, and the deep red clover about the Ivitwyk mill. At tlie open door of his house, on the mar ket place, where the cool shade of the tile- paved hall formed a pleasing contrast to th inly sun, the Burgomaster waited for his can didate. In the shad - of four linden-trees trained flat against the butt-brick walls, Myn heer Defreu^ e do/.ed in company with his do^" Polder. Overhead, perched on a win dow-sill, a youn^ person watched the road in the discreet shadow of a pot of mignonette. I here was a rosy flush on [uflrouw I)e- trev;v; e\ round lace, tor she was awaiting the realixati* >n < >f her dreams. \o romance in Kitwyk, indeed! An inven tory of [nltroiiw I )el revue s head would ha\ e dispelled such an illusion. The announcement came bv the weeklv ".MVNUKKK DKI KKOCi: ])n/KD IN COMPANY WITH III SINGULAR CLEVERNESS OF TOBY VAN LOO 57 " Post," and Juffrouw Toni across the tea kettle gave a sigh that strained her blue bod- ice to the utmost. Mynheer considered sighs as almost immoral. A young- Dominie, of course ! I low will ingly she would go to church, and at the bare thought Juffrouw Defregge s nose tried to sub due its upward tilt to a new air of devotion. Once Juffrouw Toni had almost had a ro mance, not unconnected with the pump and a slim stranger; but there had come a blight, and she decided to turn to religion for conso lation, religion expounded by something young and soul-subduing, and so she sur veyed her wardrobe, and piously lelt the rest to Divine Providence. The questions she asked her parent filled him with consternation ; all she extracted was that the candidate was unmarried, on which trail foundation she built so fast that she secretly meditated on the cut ot surplices. Mow would he burst upon Kitwyk ? Out of her imagination, aided by the Van Loo state chariot, she evolved an equipage into which she clapped a slim and serious young man whose saintly composure was only to be-, milled by her blue eyes. 58 K1TWYK SToKIKS Having arranged the preliminaries, |uf- trouw I )etre^e waited to hear the chariot clatter into the market-place. 1 lowever, no thing was to he heard but the bu/x of the lo custs and the creak ot the j)iimp, as a very dry worshiper helped himself to water. She overlooked a dii.^ty individual with a bundle under his arm, though Polder did not; he- trotted out, made all preparations to hark, then changed his mind, and his ^reetin^ to a friendly snitt. It he were not to come! It would lie just like her lather to sleep under such disastrous circumstances. She llew down-stairs, partly tor consola tion, partly for reproach. I here was no one in the porch 1>ut an elderly stranger, who mopped his bald head with a yellow hand kerchief. " Mevdn with my boots, YOUUL; woman, and he stretched out two prodig ious, dusty feet, and took a pinch of snuft. fullrouw I )ctre^-^e lied in company with her blighted hopc.-s, and a housemaid dusted the holy man, and helped him on with his v;own, which was in the bundle alon^ with a do^ -eared sermon. I he onlv miracle- that attended his advent SINGULAR CLEVERNESS OF TOBY VAN LOO 59 was the behavior of the clog Pokier. Polder, who greeted all newcomers with outrageous howls, at once took up his position on the gown as its owner thumbed his discourse, and watched his movements with the most ardent friendliness. Of the worshipers who passed, only Toby van Loo paused irresolutely. Toby van Loo enjoyed the distinction of being the only dog who went to church: because of his ear-split ting voice, and the high social position ol [onkheervan Loo, this privilege was accorded him, as his yelps of anguish on being sepa rated irom his master at the church door im peded divine service. To the scandal of the more democratic, Toby was locked in the vestry during service, where he resigned himself to the new order of things, and slept to " Amen." It was this privileged animal who paused on his way to the sanctuary, then ambled up to Polder on the gown, who received him with growls. But Polder was seized by his fat neck as he prepared to follow his Reverence to church, and borne into the house, where, mounted on a chair by the window, he wailed in unex- fjo KITWYK STORIKS plained anguish. The more fortunate Toby clunjr to the sacred coat-tails, and was with difficulty prevented Iroin precipitating hiinsclt after the candidate- into the church through the vestry door; as it was, his wail of disap pointment was distinct!}- audible. At this very inopportune moment, as the candidate knelt in prayer, a li^ ht of an exceedingly earths nature dawned on him as his heels came in sudden contact with the lon^ tails <>t his coat. I oby s sudden passion was explained, and at the same time his Reverence broke into a profuse perspiration as he realized that be tween him and a pampered brute there was only the rickety vestry door at the foot of the pulpit. \\ hat would the greedy beast care lor the sacred occasion 2 Little did the worship ers suspect the anguish of die man of (iod. Kobns tooted, the little band san^" shrill} , and the congregation stru^ ided independently after. Mevrouw van Loo settled herself in her black velvet with (_ hristian anticipations of the enemy s defeat; but preseutl}" the candidate reco\ ered himself, and expounded with such L A that Mevrouw jrrew discouraged, \\lnle . . JJS < <-;,/T-, : s .-y,-y ^ A ..... - . i... f-. SINGULAR CLEVERNESS OF TOBY VAN LOO 61 the dust of the pulpit cushions rose as a vo tive offering . In his zeal the good man forgot his foe in the vestry. He thumped the Bible, he stormed to his climax in rapture, and just reached it when when the vestry door creaked on its hinges. That was enough, he faltered - he was lost. The wretched dog ! He heard him creep up the pulpit stairs, a warm breath fanned his heels. " Get thee behind me, Satan ! " roared the distracted man of God, and, lifting a pon derous foot, he struck backward. A partly suppressed wail, and the thumping of an invisible body down the pulpit stairs, roused the congregation out of their peaceful slumbers. The service was over. The candidate turned grimly to encounter the slaughtered Toby. But there was n t even a drop of blood only the Burgomaster. But at the vestry door Mynheer Defregge fell back in horror. "What in thunder ! " Before the stove, beating the floor with his stump of a tail, lay Toby van Loo, happy and uninjured, but in a corner, his head tied up in a red bandana handkerchief, groaned the sexton. KITWYK STORiKS " Rozenboom, what under the sun has hap " Please, your \\orship, his his Rever ence kicked me ! Mynheer stared aghast. As an introduc tion of a shepherd to his Hock, it could hardly he considered auspicious. " llis Reverence had preached an hour and a halt, and so I crept up the pulpit stairs, tak ing ott my shoes lor tear ot noise, to notify him ot the lateness ot the hour, and just as I L^ ot behind him, with no provocation at all, out comes his toot, and ( ) Lord ! ( ) Lord ! Mevrouw van Loo arrived on the scene just in time to send tor LMU and linen, with a ^reat display of rig hteous horror. " I kicked because I thought it was thai confounded do^ ," his Reverence roared, and took three solid pinches ot si van Loo LH ew scarlet with ra^v. " Come away from him, I ol>y ! hut tin- faithful I oby cliin^ to the clerical coat-tails. " What should tempt a poor dumb beast into the pulpit ? " shouted his outraged master. " Tempt him ! The candidate snapped his snuff-box, dived into his coat-tails, and bore SINGULAR CLEVERNESS OF TORY VAN LOO 63 aloft, wrapped in a blue handkerchief, ihe re mains of a noble sausaire. *_> " Part was my breakfast ; this is my dinner. We sha n t suit each other, and so I bid you good day. Your servant ! " and being a pep pery man of God, he flounced out of the vestry, his gown flapping, in one hand his sermon and in the other the sausage ; and so he shouldered his way through the straggling worshipers in the market-place. The miraculous cleverness of Toby was ac knowledged ; but for him the spiritual welfare of Kitwyk might have been intrusted to a pas tor whose fatal facility with his heels would have proved a sad example for the rising gen eration. So the Burgomaster s candidate was de feated by Toby van Loo, to the; joy of that blighted spinster, Ton! Defregge. The Italian violoncello sent by Jonkheer van Loo to old Rozenboom, to atone for the in juries he so undeservedly received, was felt by Kitwyk to be a frank confession oi guilt on the part of that worthy man for having used his social position to demand unrighteous privileges in the sanctuary. THK VI()L( >XCKLLO OF Jl FFKOl XY K( JZKXBOOM plIKRK was a frightful rivalry between L l\it\vyk and Ketwyk. Sauntering alon^ the canal, you reached Kitwyk in about lilteen minutes. Municipal economy provided both villages with one Burgomaster, and as he graced Kitwyk, alon_L( with the church, there was about it a certain aristocratic llavor which Ketwyk lacked. ( >n tlv other hand, Ketwyk boasted ol the doctor and the apothecary in the person ol I )r. I ynapjiel, and also ol the ^reat cheese establishment ot Piepenbrink <S: C o. Adventurous spirits ol Ketwyk saved them selves Irom utter stagnation by occasional th^hts to Kitwyk certain reckless ones had been observed in the porch ol \\illiam the Silent, pensu ely de\-ounii^ sour milk pow dered with cinnamon and su-ar, Lj axinLi" to V10LONCKLLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 65 ward forsaken Kctwyk, meanwhile, with a secret sense ol homesickness. Mynheer foris Piepcnbrink ol Ketwyk, the head oi the "Teat cheese house, was an elderly bachelor who dreaded to be. married against his will. To prevent such a catastrophe his nephew and heir, Jan Willem Piepenbrink, on pain of disinheritance, was instructed to rush in and make a third in every tete-a-tete. When Mynheer was safe from feminine wiles he could turn his whole ardent attention to his health. One day Dr. Pynappel found him a quiver ing heap of anguish in his arm-chair, two pudgy hands out-thrust and his tongue feebly wagging. " Can t find your pulse ? 1 ) - your pulse! ( iet married, and you 11 forget you Ve got one ! " "No no! and Mynheer actually sobbed. "Exercise yon must have!" So the doctor proposed music. The doctor was a violoncello enthusiast ; he described that delicious sawing motion of back and arms until Mynheer was [tartly con vinced. That very night the doctor sent over his third-best cello by the cook, and gave! KITXVYK STOK1KS Mynheer his lir>t lesson with such success that lor fifteen blissful minutes that worthy man forgot that he hail a pulse. lie. took to the wailm^s of the violoncello with rapture, ami melted over its strings two hours a day, to his increasing |< >\ . The next step was his presence, as a humble disciple, at the musical evenings ol Mevrouw van Laan. hor eighteen years she had played trios with the doctor and the Burgomaster not exactly trios either, tor, as these worthy ^"entleineti played only the violoncello, they were naturally obliged to play the same part. Twice a week they met, discoursing music more or less sweet, with raia: in their hearts, for their intentions with regard to the lady were an open secret; yet after eighteen pa tient years the lady was still awaiting a dec laration. Time passed so quickly without any emo tion to mark it as with a mile-stone, that it it had not been for youna" Jillis van Laan and the increasing breadth ot her whom they both adored, it mi^ht to all intents and pur poses have been the selfsame day when I r. I ynapple and the Burgomaster, Mynheer e, met at the widow s brass knocker, VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 67 each with a violoncello in a green baize bag under his arm, both corning with the philan thropic intention of cheering the recently be reaved widow with a little music. At the open door they were greeted by unmerciful shrieks. It was little Jillis, and little Jillis was evi dently being cuffed. The fair widow de scended with a flush on her cheek, and found her consolers stranded on two stiff chairs, L> larinor defiance at each other. Neither o-ave O O O way, and so the three played duets, which is ever a mistake. In the course of years Jillis descended from the apartment in which she first howled, and was accepted below as a necessary evil. It was, to say the least, disconcerting to do any courting before that child. Perched on a high chair, she gazed at the two gentlemen with round blue eyes and an inquiring smile. But when for the first time Mevrouw van Laan abdicated the spindle-legged piano- stool and hoisted Jillis to the level of the yel low keys, the two amateurs declared it to be monstrous; but Mevrouw was not without a sense of injury because of those years of silence. 6S KITXVYK STORIES To play with that brat of a child never! Hut man is the creature oi habit, and by and by they grew callous. The brat, dragged to the instrument l>y the tails of her flaxen hair, merged into a rosy-cheeked young maid, who one day was lound to have grown up. On making this simultaneous discovery, the Burgomaster appeared in a new coat, and the doctor in a new wig". Immolated on the altar oi music, [illis pre sented to that divine: art a perfectly vacant mind, untroubled by discords or harmonies, so that alter a couple oi hours struggle she was enabled to emerge exhausted, to be sure, but good-natured, the harmonies having been mercifully stopped at her outer ear, leav ing her to meditate on the problems dear to her for instance, the brewing of a cordial into which she poured all the romance ot her placid heart. " Parfait Amour" it was called, and it was a rich, rosy liquid, and, as was eminently proper, oi a somewhat sluggish flow. ( >n the surprising discovery that Jillis was grown up, the two adorers of Mevromv were more than ever undecided about declaring their passion to her parent; each, indeed, felt a praise- VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 6y worthy impulse to resign her to the other. It was just at this time that the doctor brought Mynheer Piepenbrink to the musical even ings, and Mynheer was in turn accompanied by his panacea against feminine wiles, Jan Willem. Should Mevrouw smile too warmly on Mynheer, he could find in Jan Willem s presence a moral support. Jan Willem, who abhorred music with the one enthusiasm of his nature, was reconciled only at sight of that other victim, who, how ever, for the first time, not only ceased to yawn, but was blissfully conscious though she turned to him only a bewildering, burn ished surface of yellow braids of a big young man, with pink-and-white cheeks and slow, surprised eyes. An unusual vivacity seized her. The last false note had hardly died away when she disappeared, and re turned with a japanned tray on which glowed in a crystal decanter a rose-colored liquid - " Parfait Amour." Parfait Amour ! Ah, yes yes. They all drank pensively, and smacked their lips, and the room was full of the aroma of almonds and wild roses, and Jan Willem, with an appreciative stare at Jillis, asked lor 7u KIIAVVK STORIES more , and she Mushed like a rose as she filled his glass, and he: was almost, reconciled to music. Mynheer emerged from these entertain ments with a triumphant feeling of having escaped from pitfalls, combined with a wild yearning to produce on his own instrument similar delicious strains. The soul of a music enthusiast of the fiercest sort, unsuspcctedly slumbering within him, was roused. His hitherto placid soul was tormented by jeal ousy as lu: meditated e>n the superior merits of his two worth\- frienels. Mynheer was not only capable of emotion, but emotion that was colossal. ii \Viir.x old Rozenboom the sexton died, he left his Italian violoncello the one sent him by fonkheer van Loo, because: of his unmer ited sufferings to his only daughter }uf- frouw Brigitte Rozenboom, who main- and many a time had fled from its wailings with cotton in her ears. She was a romanfic soul, but she disapproved of music, and so it was with the usual iron} of fate that her legacy consisted of this precious instrument. Reck- VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 71 oned by the unfulfilled hopes of her heart, Juf- frouw Rozenboom was still sixteen. Obliv ious to the tweaks of rheumatism, she tripped to the pump as in her girlhood. In the leisure of doing a little dressmaking she wrote poetry, and over her peat-stove stood the plaster bust of Jacob Cats, the il lustrious Dutch poet, crowned with a with ered laurel wreath. Such is our low human nature, that it was rumored that the illus trious bard figured in private as a model upon which the inspired lady tried those caps and bonnets that petrified Kitwyk of a Sunday. Juffrouw Brigitte lived in two rooms so nar row that, had she fainted crosswise in them, she would inevitably have had to be pried out. The only one in Kitwyk who firmly be lieved in the lady s poetry was Duffels, for she had in turn greeted nine infant Duffelses with an ode ot welcome . Duffels pined to show his gratitude , which hitherto had taken only the form of tidbits of gossip, for the grateful man was the village barber, and his opportunities were many. He was a willing soul, with a propitiatory stoop, and he turned 1- KIIAYYK STOK1KS his IKUK! to anything: condoled. coii</ratu- J *> O lated, and even waited at table with great gentility, in a cast-oil coat of an easy fit, the tails of which such were: his elegance ami activity! floated lightly behind him. The nine had abnormal appetites, increased by a steady wading in the green ditches in pursuit of frogs, and 1 )ul!els was horribly in debt. There was Dr. Pynappel, whom he could hardly lace because you understand of the nine. He had a stupendous cheese debt to Piepenbrink tv Co., which he had in vain tried to shave- off, and he was under munici pal displeasure because of a too sparing use of the pump. His Honor the Burgomaster was pleased to declare the little 1 hiffelses to be a disgrace; to Kitwyk, so dirty were their faces. He had graciously emphasized this sentiment by hitting the pendent shirt in the rear of the: nearest with his gold-headed cane. So 1 hiffels was crushed by care, and thought it could be; no worse; but he did not under stand the little tricks of Fate, until [ulfroinv Rozenboom inherited the violoncello. Tiii, violoncello 1 )r. Pynappel begrudged its late owner, until he had hated him with consider able enthusiasm. In a weak hour he: confided V10LONCKLLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 73 his hopes and fears to Mynheer Piepenbrink. At the description of the instrument, Myn heer closed his little eyes in ecstasy ; he was overcome by his first emotion, and it swept before it all considerations of the superior rights of the enamoured doctor. With a diplomacy for which no one would have given him credit, he sent in all secrecy to Duffels. A cheese debt of long standing should, be forgiven Duffels if he would undertake to obtain for Mynheer this precious instrument. Duffels was already burdened with two se cret offers to Juffrouw Rozenboom for her legacy, one in each wooden shoe for safety. The communication from Mynheer he con fided to his blue-tasseled night-cap with a groan ; for, try as he would, he could not make three aspirants and one violoncello come out right. The vengeance of two would certainly pursue him, and it was a question whether he preferred the wrath of the Burgomaster, the doctor, or Mynheer Piepenbrink. From behind her muslin curtains Juflrouw Rozenboom overlooked the market-place and William the Silent. She was dusting Jacob Cats as Duffels shuffled in. She dropped 74 KITWYK STOKIKS his laurel wreath, and received the three mis sives. For one blissful moment the blame less lady dreamed, and then oh, the pertidy of man ! She tell back limp against the plaster lin eaments ot the illustrious bard. Three pro posals, not for her hand, but lor her violon cello! Duffels turned discreetly away, while: she hid her agitated features in the dust-cloth. From this retreat she announced her decision with considerable sharpness: "Want it, do they? Well, tell them that money won t buy it, Duffels." in Tin: announcement that mere money could not prevail on the lady to part with her legacy was a blow. Mynheer Piepenbrink was simply crushed, and his indecision and lon^ ini^ ^rew to frightful proportions as ru mor announced the increased activity ot his rivals. Duffels was a very Ln atetul man, and it seemed to him a crime that so poetic a lady should have no opportunities to exer cise her talent on herself. As he: shaved VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 75 Mynheer Piepenbrink one morning , he ven tured a bold remark. Armed though he was with a razor, and safe from Mynheer s wrath, he turned pale. " Of course whoever marries the lady mar ries, as it were, the violoncello." There was an awful pause, then a ray of hope illumined Mynheer s gloom. Could he persuade Jan Willem to marry the lady out of duty, and so unhappily he had educated him with his own horror of anything femi nine. Such was Mynheer s agitation that Duffels refused to shave him, so he resigned himself in silence to the razor. "A violoncello will last for centuries," said Duffels, "while a woman I Ic waved his razor lightly to typify the transitory nature of her career. "What remains? The vio loncello." Juffrouw Rozenboom had been heard to cough, and it was on the strength of that cough that the doctor decided to dare anything, Duffels said. As for the Burgo master, a previous matrimonial experience more than encouraged him. " What they _> ^ can do, Mynheer can do," and he soaped him tenderly. jC> KITYVYK STORIES " I)iit she can t marry all three of us," groaned Mynheer. " Mynheer, women are the greatest iools. 1 hey 11 believe anything". Tell her you like her, and say nothing about the old fiddle. She 11 marry you, and you 11 have the vio loncello, and you 11 have been polite. For she has a tender heart, and it hurts her to think that they only come courting the vio loncello. \\ hen it is over he- will be thank ful," he consoled himself, "and alter he is once married he won t know how she looks." IV MYMII.KR PiKi KNhKiXK was the victim of passion. In three weeks he had faded to a yellow gray, and his cheeks hung dabby. I hiitels stood before him. A forsaken rusk soaked in a tall china cup, and the only merry thing in the room was the alcohol flame un der the tea-urn. " \ ou are sure you told her that under no circumstances can 1 possibly come courting ?" " Yes. Mynheer." "l>ut I am in* nearer the violoncello," groaned the distracted man. VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZKNBOOAI 77 "When you arc- are married." "What will Jan Willcm say Jan Willcm, who was never to fall in love?" " But Mynheer is not in love." "That is true, Duffels." "Mynheer pines for a violoncello, and the price, as it were, is an estimable lady who is so little attractive that really " " But what will Kitwyk and Ketwyk say ? " moaned the agonized suitor. " Mynheer, what does the doctor care, or the Burgomaster ! Has Mynheer not noticed their courting? Have they not publicly placed her pail under the pump ? " "O Lord! O Lord! I should die of a wedding ! " "A wedding is not necessary." Mynheer stared aghast. " I mean she will go with Mynheer wherever he wishes to get married." "Good Lord! that will be an elopement?" " Oh, no, Mynheer, only a convenience at your age ! " The toils were closing about him. "This will kill me, Duffels; and what will Jan Willem say ? " " It will be a warning to him, and that is something." 7-S KITWYK STOKIKS " Hut hut no courting!" " rhere is no need, Mynheer." "Anil and if she; insists on having me, she she must make all the; arrangements herself." " "\ cs, Mynheer." "I I can t he troubled; my --my pulse -why, 1 have n t any!" and he pulled a gold turnip out of the pocket of his capacious breeches. "Perhaps because Mynheer is feeling of the arm of his chair," Duffels suggested mildly ; then, as a messenger of love, dis creetly withdrew. Those were terrible days for Dutfels ! Xot only was he obliged to shave Kitwyk, but he had to go courting and how masterly he did it. " 1 le is dying to marry you, futfrouw," he declared rapturously. "He will go with you to the ends of the earth truly he will. Only name the day." " I low he loves me ! "Truly he does, strange as it may seem, he assented. "() foris, unselfish one 1 I "hen she smiled inquiry on her humble friend. "Sweet are VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 79 the messages you bring, Duffels ; but why through you ? " " Tell her just what I feel ; you will do it so much better than I should, he always says, Juffrouw." " But if we never see each other, how are we to - She paused in modest confusion. "To get married, Juffrouw? Take him away, and marry him. All he needs is energy." "Marry him? How, my faithful friend?" " Leave it to me, Juffrouw. I will bring him at the right time ; all you need to do is to be ready." SUMMER glided into autumn ; the marsh- grass turned dun color, and there was a hollow, cold twang to the thrum of the bull-frogs. The good folks of Kitwyk ac knowledged a change of season by substitut- O O J incr hot OTO^ for cold. O c> o An air of mystery brooded over the musical evenings of Mevrouw van Laan. Young Jil- lis perpetrated her false notes with a new air of abstraction. Mevrouw still slumbered un conscious while a big young man, planted in KITWYK STORIES ;i stiff cliair, his i>Teat feet creakuv>~ ( >n th< at the nape ol a white, round neck with its golden tendrils ol curls. fan \Yillt-m did not put his ecstnsy into words, but it helped him to survive the music, accompanied though it was by remorse as lie ^ r azed at his unconscious uncle. 1 )id he al ready suspect, and was that the reason that ol late: he had ^rown so ill-tempered and ha^- ^"ard ? One day he blurted out, "fan \Yil- lem, keep your passions under control ! Jan \Villem was about to confess all, but the worthy man had lied, and he was left to ponder on his traitorous design to introduce into their blameless masculine lives a youn^ person with yellow hair and blue eyes. I low to undermine the cast-iron principles of his excellent uncle ! He was not the only one who threatened the Ln>od man s repose. Since: the days of the Spanish inquisition, even in the days of the Spanish inquisition, Kitwyk took an afternoon nap from three to five; not even the terrors of the stake could alter that commendable custom, and the peaceful conscience of Kitwyk was manifested in one simultaneous snore. VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZF.NBOOM Si The most arrant: gossip was then asleep, and it was with perfect security that Jullrouw Ro- zenboom swayed toward the pump at filteen minutes past three, in company with her pail. A shadow fell across her path ; she started and faltered, but it was only a stray donkey browsing" placidly on the grass between the cobblestones. Another shadow she was not mistaken. Before her stood a bottle- green apparition in yellow breeches and a red face. It w r as Mynheer Defregge, the Burgomaster, in such agitation that, manlike, he turned his rage on the first object that acted as a safety-valve, which happened to be the innocent grazer, who, unconscious of offense, was pursuing his winding way among the grass tufts, which planted him directly between his Worship and the lady, where he took a stubborn position. " Shoo ! " cried Mynheer Defregge. The donkey edged a trifle out of the way, and so they met. " Duffels gave me your message, Mynheer." " Have you made up your mind, Juffrouw?" The lady clasped her hands and looked to ward heaven. " It is a great responsibility, Mynheer. I have no one to advise me. 8^ KITU YK SI <>l< IKS Other young persons have a mother; I -- I -have, only a heartless brother." " \ on have a great-uncle on your mothers side." Mynheer Defregge was always pain- hilly exact. Here the donkey, whether from sympathy, or because he thought the afflicted l.uly was hiding something especially juicy in the way ol grass, butted against her. "det out ot the way! roared his Honor. " [ut Irouw, you have a most miraculous chance ! You are not young nor beautiful nor rich,"- a light in the lady s pensiye gaxe might have warned a less exact man. "Mynheer I iepen- brink wishes to marry you then, in Hea ven s name, marry him ! I>ut you would he ashamed to enter his house with empty hands. IHess you ! money makes no woman less de sirable. A gay plumage has made fair many an old bird." I his metaphor seemed to strike the lady unfavorably. Your proposal is not the only one," she retorted, bridling. "So there have been others, have there? Well, blexem I "il double em, and we 11 see what he says to that; for have it I will, Juftrouw, or I m not Burgomaster of Kitwyk! And down he thumped his cane, so that the VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZKNHOOM 83 donkey lied in nervous alarm, and the lady was left alone to pump two or three gallons of water over her feet in the sweet perplexity of her thoughts. VI THREE days after, Duffels, with his shaving- tools, appeared before Mynheer, who gazed at him with lack-luster eyes. "And and - well, Duffels what?" " She says she is walling to follow Mynheer to the ends of the earth." A despairing groan was the only answer to this passionate message. "And and you are quite sure there is no other way, Duffels ? " Duffels pinned a towel about the unfortu nate gentleman, and lathered away in silence. "But I--I can t arrange anything; I won t." " Leave it all to me, Mynheer." "And, Duffels, tell her O Lord! O Lord ! that the violoncello must go too ; for if I don t see it I shall lose courage. And and you say she likes me ? " "Adores you, Mynheer." "Don t put your shaving-brush in my 4 KITWYK STOKIF.S mouth ! Tell her that she must not lie be affectionate. I should die it she \vciv. It 1 could only take Jan \Villem alon^!" Duffels shook his head, with an air ot injured pro priety, and Mynheer, with a heartrending LH oan, resigned himself to the inevitable. Three days after, the yellow chaise in the barnyard ot William the Silent, the only rep resentative of a vehicle of leisure in Kitwyk except the hearse: and an ancient idass coach, was roused Irom an inactivity ot a quarter ot a century, and scrubbed. A speckled horse with tour stitt le^ s was decoyed into the traces by a measure ot hay, and before he had finished his repast he found himself a prisoner. That afternoon, with his last independent breath, Mynheer Piepenbrink gasped, " It that violoncello is not where I can see it, I shall not <^o." This message, in sweet dis guise, was borne to the lady. P>ut, Duffels, it he loves me, why can- about such a trifle: 1 " she ur^ ed. " Let him have his way it you want him." " Hut, l)iiffels, my my trunk." "There is only room for the violoncello." Duffels was losing patience. VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW KOZENl .OOM 85 So Juffrouw Rozenboom resigned her ward robe in favor of her lover. It was a chilly autumn night, and the moon glided in and out of a curdled sky. The lane o> ^ toward Ten Brink was piled high with fallen leaves, and the air was chilly with cold and decay. An unenthusiastic horse trundled a vehicle over the soggy leaves. The chariot pounded slowly along, and the speckled horse, with open pink nostrils, communed with himself, head downward. He was fly ing toward happiness at the rate of two miles an hour, and that with so pleasing a motion that Duffels, astride his back, was snoring peacefully, with the consciousness of having brought a good matter to a satisfactory con clusion. The carriage was vastly like a sedan-chair on wheels, with a window on each side and one in front, against which loomed the tail of the speckled steed and the rear of the sleep ing Duffels. A silhouette of landscape, wind mills, sail-boats, and ghostly houses lumbered heavily by, and sometimes the moon peeped in with ladylike discretion. A dark figure cowered in one corner, while the occupant of the other swayed gently toward it. K1TWYK STORIES " Mynheer Joris my own \\ ill you not speak ? " " Xo no," a strangled voice piped in an- " Lccentric dear ! " the lady murmured, with heroic suavity. Mynheer Piepenbrink cast liis eyes in de spair on the ponderous case ol the violoncello between them. " 1 )on t don t you come any nearer! Little Peter and Paul!" In his anguish he overturned tin: violoncello, which tell heavily into his arms. I Ie clasped it in a passionate embrace. "One little; look at it, (uttrouw, only one." "Is it not sutticient to look at the- case, Joris dear?" she faltered. " \Vhy did I ever come ? " cried the afflicted gentleman. "Good Lord, help me! he groaned; and just then, as it divine Providence had nothing" else to do than to answer Myn heer s petitions, there ensued a convulsion <t nature, the chariot ot William the Silent sta- leered, reeled, and the next mome:nt plunged into an internal abyss. The mottled horse, of course , L^ave no ex planation of the disaster. I hiftels \\-as the tirst to recover himselt. I Ie had trusted too much VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 87 to the instinct of this worthy steed and the harmony and method of his progress ; he had not taken into consideration the tantalizing tufts of grass along the road bordering a ditch, muddy, but fortunately low of water. Uncontrolled by the slumbering Duffels, the excellent quadruped nibbled his way too near the edge, with the above result. Mynheer, having assured himself that he was still alive, groped out of the ditch, and with the help of Duffels rescued the lady. The)- had fallen two feet into the ditch, but lor all the purposes of a tragedy it might just as well have been two hundred. " O Joris, you are not dead ! " and she laid her battered bonnet on his unresponsive shoul der. Mynheer placed his fair burden on the edge of the ditch with more emphasis than affection. " Good Lord ! lie cried suddenly, with something akin to emotion, " where is the violoncello ? " The moon having taken this opportunity to withdraw, the scene was shrouded in gloom, enlivened only by the sobs of the lady and the crunching of the cause of the disaster, as he cropped the.- grass on the; bank. KITWYK ST< For fifteen minutes Mynheer strolled with a tinder-box; then, aided by Ihiflcls s lamp, he discovered the beloved form in the ditch, into which, unmindful ot danger, he descended. Jufirouw Ro/enboom, on the brink, sat as it petrified until out ot the Ldoom emerged one short, stout figure bearing another. The first was the heroic Juris, the other the pre cious instrument. He laid it tenderly on the bank. "It it should have been hurt! () Lord! ( )pcn it, luttruuw ! " " Xot now ! " she gasped. " I 1 know I am L^oinv to taint ! Hut pity and Mynheer were strangers; he- watched her with a cold and fishy eye. "( )pcn it at once, juftromv ! IJut fuftrouw Ro/en boom only moaned and rocked to and iru. " ( )pen it, or I 11 - The lady shrieked and Mynheer grasped the case weakened by disaster; the battered lock <rave way; the moon came out ot the clouds; d -adly silence ; then "Dunder and blexcm ! \\nat in the devil s name do you call this?" and he pulled out just the sweet est spriv^ed delaine her weddin^-^ own, poor dear! It hun^" all limp trom his hand, VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENHOOM 89 and upside down, but his heart was unmoved. And this?" and out he tore a lovely green coal-scuttle, wreathed, like a young- Hope, in pink roses. The afflicted lady shrieked again as her wardrobe sank at her feet. "Where is the violoncello, madam?" "Joris!" and the lady wrung her hands - " I wanted to be a credit to you on our wedding-day ! " Here Duffels interposed, with an ingratiat ing smile. " If Mynheer will help raise the carriage we will go on." "Where is the violoncello, madam?" She sobbed dismally. "Where is it?" " O Joris I--I it s sold!" "Sold!" "I I was so sure you d want me to look nice, and it just bought the sprigged delaine and the bonnet." Duffels righted the carriage, and backed the unwilling steed into the traces. "Shall we go, Alynheer?" " Go where ? " " To Sippken." "What for?" 90 K1TWYK STOKIKS "\Vhy, to be married, Mynheer." " \\ hat ! I married! I married without the violoncello ! Xever ! " () Joris, you have no idea how well I look in that dress!" Jultrouw Rozenboom moaned. " 1 married ! he interrupted most cruelly. " \\ hy, but tor this blessed accident 1 should have been sacrificed. I married! I 11 l>e d - il I will ! " And without another word Mynheer turned his back upon his shattered hopes, and with heroic purpose he proceeded to trudge home tile two wear) miles he had come. VII lb>w Duffels returned with the iorsaken lady is not stated. The mottled steed, with his knees rasped, and the vehicle were tound at mi( ni^ ht hitched to William the Silent. Lon^ belore dawn fan \\ T illem was roused by a feeble knock at the trout door. I Ie lis tened with commendable prudence for halt an hour, then descended in company with a 1 ilunderbuss. " [an \Yillem, it is I. I ncle Piepenbrink." A taint but familiar voice. fan \\illem grasped his musket, and applied his eye to VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZENBOOM 91 the keyhole, but saw only what afterward proved to be Uncle Piepenbrink s eye. With heroic firmness he opened the door just a crack, the muzzle of the blunderbuss well out, and stao^ered back at sitzht of his own eini- o o o nently respectable relative standing before him, footsore and dirty. " Uncle, where have you been ? " " To the devil ! " the misguided man all but sobbed. " When when did you go ? " and Jan \Yil- lem followed him up-stairs. "At fifteen minutes past seven last night." "Why, then, you don t know then you have n t seen Uncle Piepenbrink was already staring as at an apparition. It was not the red feather bed which petrified him, nor the leather arm chair, nor his carpet slippers, nor the familiar row of clay pipes, but, supported by a chair, languishing against the bed, there stood a violoncello ! Mynheer gasped. Then he spoke : " What does it mean ? " It was the Rozenboom violoncello. The next moment he held it in his arms. Jan Willem gazed at the floor with a vague KITWYK STORIES smile. " I wished to give you a little sur prise, uncle. I found out how much you wanted it." Mynheer took a frightened breath, as one who has been perambulating on the brink of a precipice. " I thought if I should give you a little pleasure you might you might- "And it is Irom you, Jan \Villem? And I am to have this precious instrument with out her? The Lord be thanked!" fan \Villem turned pale. "Oh, no no not without her ! That is just what 1 wished to explain, uncle. 1 or, don t you see, I love her, and she loves me, and I thought that is, she thought - "Love her? ( iot you in her clutches, too? Hut why was she so ready to fly with me?" " To tly with you . J " and fan \Villem stared, aghast. " fan \Villem, be warned! At quarter past seven last night she and I were in the chaise of William the Silent, and she would have been Mevrouw I Mcpenbrink by this time had it not been for circumstances over which, thank God, we had no control." "Jillis you and Jillis/ Never!" and Jan VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZF.XBOOA1 93 JII.IJS. Willcm choked with something approaching rage. " In the devil s name ! I and what? Little Jillis van Laan ? Why, the boy is just mad! Blexem ! I see ! I see ! There is no need of being jealous, }an Willem, for well ! - it was some one else!" 4 KITYVYK STOKIKS " Tncle, where have you been . J " Ileen indeed ! 1 lis narrow escape intoxicated him ; he was almost lively. " Jlcen courting, have you? And I was to be bribed, you rog iie ? Jilhs s [)lan, I 11 waiter. \ et surprises are dangerous, Jan \\"illem. Hut tor a special act ot Providence you would have had an aunt, to-day," he heaved a sieji of gratitude, "and, after all, a niece is no thing compared to an aunt. So take my blessing, [an \\illem, and close the door,"- hich he did in painful perplexity. Ten minutes after, buried under a mountain- feather-bed, Mynheer forgot the disasters out of which he had so heroically rescued him OILS Mynheer never divulged the solitary ro mance ot his placid career, but he cherished it in secret. 1 laving so nearly sacrificed himselt for one of the tine arts, in future he considered himself, with reason, as the patron of all the tine arts as encouraged in Kitwyk. 1 he art ist who was intrusted with the new si^n -board for William the Silent also painted the por trait of Mynheer playing the Ro/enboom vio loncello. Henceforth he played with new VIOLONCELLO OF JUFFROUW ROZKNP.OOM 95 feeling- which even deceived himself, as if there were a blighted something 1 within him which O O found its fittest expression when he wailed across the strings long and sad and flat. JUFFROUW VAN STKKX HKX Mynheer van Steen oi Kitwyk spoke ot the LH eat I )c Keyser of I\ot terrain he seemed to melt together in abject humility. There were two things about which he Ln~ew almost po etic: a youn^ herring of the first precious hatch, unsophisticated and tender, for which his Majesty of 1 lolland inves a gratuity of five hundred guilders, and Mynheer do Koyser. Such a herring nestling beside a pickled onion brought tears to his eyes, and he would say, as he gulped down the tenderest part, "If Mynheer de Keyser were only here.! It was understood, if that illustrious man ever did come to Kitwyk, the festivities would be worthy of the distinguished visitor and of Mynheer van Steen. It was Mynheer de JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 97 Keyser who bought his tobacco and sold him his groceries, and in his day Nicodemus de Kcyser had turned his guilders to so good an account that Van Steen grew quite faint in the contemplation of that rather unsteady signature, representing, as it did, fabulous wealth. Mevroiuv van Steen had faded out of the world after bringing Juffrouw Mettje into ex istence, the only change for Mynheer being that in future he played his nightly games of cards with his sister, Aunt Jetta. They played for a penny a game, and when he had bad cards he lost his temper, but Aunt Jetta was always placid. Never was the purple bow stirred that rested lightly on the parting of her brown front. Early in life Aunt Jetta had resigned her self to playing cards with her brother and lis tening to Qflowinpf accounts of how Mynheer o *> > J de Keyser would be received should he ever come to Kitwyk. " How I long to see him ! " Mynheer cried with enthusiasm. For forty years he had loved and trusted the great man simply by mail. "A man so rich must be good and wise," he exclaimed, and he meant it, did 9 8 Mynheer van Stccn. The good, the true, and thr beautiful were all represented to him by his ideal ot Mynheer de lve\ MT. One day Mynheer received a joyful shock. It made the sheet o! letter-paper in his hand rattle, lor the illustrious I )e I\c\ ser, alter cer tain orders relative to tobacco, added, with out lalse sentiment, postage being dear, that having heard much ot the charms ol (ultrouw Mettje van Steen, and bring lonely in his big house on the Boompjes, he would do himsell the honor ot offering her his hand in marriage. Mynheer sank back in his leathern arm chair in ecstasy; then he rang a band-bell, and Aunt jetta appeared. "Mynheer de Keyser "Hear me, de;ul ? " Aunt fetta suggested [)lacidly. Dead!" Here be laughed. "Well, hardly. Prepare yourself lor joyful news. Jetta. Myn heer de Keyser desires to marry again." "Marry again ? " Aunt Jetta repeated, and flushed. "Marry, yes, marry. l>e joyful lie wishes to marry our Mettje." Aunt Jetta folded her hands and was dis tinctly icy in her joy. VINT I : I I \ KOI. DHL) HI.: HANDS AM) WAS DISII.NCn JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 99 " Call Mettje ! " And Mynheer strode along" the polished floor until his felt slippers flapped up and down in agitation. " How sweet it sounds Mevrouw de Key- ser ! Some day yes, some day I may hope to say to him, Nicodemus. There, call Mettje. Imagine her joy ! " "Joy! Humph! Think of his age. Joy? Seventeen and seventy ! Well, hardly." So short did Mynheer stop in his career that for a second his coat-tails lay outspread on the air. "Jetta, a De Keyser has no age. He is always beautiful, good, and young. As long as he lasts he is always a princely match. If he had only one leg" in fact, no leirs he would y <T> O still be more than desirable. Mynheer has, God be praised! all his faculties, and there fore Jetta, don t stand staring; call Mettje." Mettje looked in at the door, and gave a doubtful glance at the family group. "If, child, you had a wish granted to you, what should it be?" Mynheer asked solemnly, and beat time with his forefinger on Mynheer de Keyser s letter. Mettje leaned her slim back against the door, and considered. i ... KITWYK STORIES "There arc: two tilings." " But, my clearest child, it can he- but one thing." "Very well, then, "--with a sigh of resig nation: "as much apple-sauce as I can pos sibly eat." "My innocent child! I knew you would not venture-. There, prepare yourself tor ex ceeding joy. A part ot this letter relates to you. 1 will read it: how simple, yet how impressive! 1 he: last invoice ot tobacco was hardly up to Xo, that is n t it. Five hundred pounds ot better quality. I am so agitated, I really can t imd it. In short, Mettje, he does you the: honor to otter you his hand in marriage." "What?" Juttrouw van Steen cried, and laughed until her brown eyes glistened with tears. "Marry me? I marry Mynheer de Kryser? Why, then I ^hall have to call him ha! ha 1 - - Xicodemus." " True," her lather assented respectfully. T<) him there could be nothing ludicrous about a 1 )e Keyser. "How old is Mynheer?" she asked with sudden gravity. "\\V11 in the prime of lite:, child: sev enty or thereabouts." JUFFROUW VAX STEEN 101 " Perhaps he might live ten or fifteen years longer, papa ? " Twenty," her papa assented briskly. "Ah, dear me! that is just the trouble." " What what ? Trouble ! You you don t dare to say, suggest where is your joy ? where is your gratitude ? " "As for joy, papa, no matter about that," and Mistress Mettje shrugged her pretty shoulders. " You can say to him, please, that Juffrouw van Steen is deeply grateful, and, having no choice whatever in the mat ter, she accepts his offer with with temper ate rapture." Mynheer s suitable and respectful reply was forwarded to Rotterdam by "Trekschuit" (canal-boat) at the rate of about six miles a clay, which is as fast as the wings of love can in Holland carry a declaration of passion. n A HUNDRED years ago it was a matter of some expense to send a letter ; therefore Myn heer van Steen sensibly prefaced his answer with certain business commissions, after which he expressed his joy at the honor Mynheer conferred on the Van Steen family by desiring to marry Mistress Mettje. It was young Laurens de Keyser who care lessly broke open the five ponderous seals that hid so much information; then he whistled so long and so loud that the nine other clerks paused in the scratching of their several goose- quills to look up in marked disapproval. The truth was that the only son of I )e Keyser was a black sheep, criminally indifferent to the whole Hast India trade. Instead of writing at his desk he preferred to stroll along the canals, his hands in his breeches pockets, his cocked hat on the back of his head, gathering information from every vagabond in Rotter dam. Slowly and stately Mynheer de Key- ser s great merchantmen sailed down the Boompjes and anchored at his very front door, and the sight of strange creatures all nimble-ness, earrings, and grins, and the pun gent smell of the sea, suggesting unknown lands, tilled Laurens de Keyser s mind with wild longings tor --he hardly knew what. " Let me set: the world, father. so\v my wild oats, come back, and be a worthy progenitor ol I )e Keysers," Laurens urged. I his being :iu innovation on familv traditions, young JUFFROUVV VAN STEEN 103 Lauren s stayed where he was, and became a thorn in Mynheer s flesh. Instead of writing in the ponderous ledgers > I C5 he drew fantastic pictures of young females on the precious office paper-- young females not without interest to the other clerks, but at sig ht of whom Mynheer de Keyser and his head bookkeeper shuddered. If it be added that Laurens owned a guitar and sang songs which made the respectable echoes of the old house moan and quake to have to perpetuate anything so lively, it will be acknowledged that as a De Keyser he was a failure. Me smiled as he folded up Mynheer s let ter, and murmured, " A nice young person you must be, Mistress Mettje." Then, full of vis ions of compromise, he knocked at his father s door. " What do you want, Laurens ? More mon ey, more time for idleness, eh ? " The great De Keyser sat in a cubby-hole surrounded by dusty shelves laden with fly blown bottles of ancient samples of everything under heaven. A shabby desk beside a win dow that had an unwashed view of brick area and two chairs constituted the furniture of this apartment. 104 KITWYK STOKIKS " By nt) means, lather. Here is a letter from Mynheer van Steen." " . \lxnit what ? " "Herrings, currants, brown sugar, and" here Lamvns looked encouragingly at his lather " well, yes, and love." " Love J . \\ hat do you mean ? " " | ust what I say. Now, lather, let us take it easily and comfortably." And, to begin, Laurens sat himself astride the chair, folded his arms on the hack, and smiled. " It seems, my dear lather, while I am pin ing lor freedom you are seeking bondage each to his taste! It is not every son who would gracefully, nay joyously, receive a new mother ; but I will do so it - " If what " " II you will let me go away from here, (jive me a little freedom. I have never seen the world. I know nothing, I hear nothing. In a general way, I suppose, (iod made the world for a I )e Keyser to trade in, and he made people tor a I )e Keyser to trade with. I)iit, father." he added confidingly, I am so deadly tired of being a 1 )e Keyser. I should like a change." "And this is the son I have brought into "THK GKKAT HE KKYSKK SAT IN A ( T HI! Y-HOI.K. " JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 105 the world ! " was all Mynheer could utter, but his eyes threatened a coming" storm. Laurens nodded and sighed. " I wish sometimes you had brought some one else into the world." "And you dare to suggest a bargain with me ? Your freedom for mine ! I wish you to understand that if I choose to marry again, you have nothing whatever to say about it." " But, father, if I go away you will have plain sailing ; and if I stay she might draw comparisons and, after all, father, you have been younger." "Younger! That I have lived to see this O day ! " " I am very glad of it, I am sure; but sup pose Mevrouw should fall in love with me?" Mynheer turned livid with rage. " Go to the devil ! Leave my house ! I can get on without you ; see if you can get on without me ! " "Do you really mean it?" And Laurens rose to his feet. " Go to the devil ! " " Ultimately, perhaps ; but I mean to stop at one or two places on the way. Good-by, father"; and young Laurens stepped briskly io - KITWYK STOKIKS over the threshold and departed out of the presence of Mynheer. Tiii .ki; had been times of great public com motion in Kitwyk. The Spaniards in their day had clattered over the highway, and Duke Alva had passed a night in the old town-house on the market-place; but even these circumstances were: not so remarkable as to see a young and able-bodied man sit ting on a milking-stool in the meadow sketch- in^ one of Mynheer van Steen s cows. That any one should do anything 1 but milk a cow was so absurd that the cow was apparently struck by it, tor she paused in the chewing of her cud to contemplate the- artist. In this she was joined by a small urchin sent to re cover the milking-stool, followed by the dairy maid, a buxom wench in clogs, and on her head a tight, white cap with gold ornaments dangling against her temples. " < )uick, Peter, fetch the fulfrouw," she whispered in open-mouthed wonder, due equally to the art and the artist. The message- reached Mistress Mettje thus: JUFFROUW VAN STKKN 107 "Quick, Juffrouw ! something is happening to Brigitta, the cow, in the meadow." Mynheer was just taking his afternoon nap when Mettje roused him. " Father, come down to the meadow ; some thing- has happened to our Brigitta." And before he could ask a question she was gone. Mynheer ya\vned grievously, took clown a rusty old sword, put on his cocked hat, and passed majestically through the kitchen gar den to the meadow, where danger threatened Brigitta the cow. "What are you doing to my cow, young man ? " he asked, heroically. For the first time the villain looked up at sight of Myn heer and his drawn sword. "Making a picture of her if you don t mind." " Picture of a cow ? Bless my soul, what nonsense ! What 11 you do with it, eh ? " " Look at it, Mynheer." " Look at the picture of a cow! What for? You can t cook it or milk it." " Perhaps I might sell it." " Sell it ! Who d buy a picture of a cow when he can buy a real one? Listen, Mettje, sell a picture of a cow ! " And here he loS KITWVK STOKIKS laughed loud and long, while the artist turned hastily about and discovered three hitherto unperceivcd critics a small urchin, a lat servant, and the very sweetest young maid in the world, who gazed at him in tin- most charming 1 surprise. 1 le had a glimpse of brown eyes and chestnut hair, all gold in the ripples, a silver-gray gown dashed with blush-roses, a narrow black velvet about the white throat, and a hill sleeve that showed the fairest round arm. lo be laughed at in her presence was not to be borne. I le sprung to his feet, kicked over the milking stool, clutched his sketch, and with a hasty " Pardon my trespassing, Mynheer," turned away ]ust as Mynheer added, with renewed enjoyment: " Mettje, paint a cow, sell a painted cow! O Xicodemus de Keyser, what would you say to this . J " The artist of the cow turned to catch a last glimpse of young Mettje. I le saw the dimple fade out of her cheek, and she sighed. "Mettje 1 Kitwyk ! Mynheer de Keyser, to be sure," he thought, tilled with wonder and resentment. "Are \ou Mynheer van JUFFROUW VAN STEKX 109 Steen ? " he asked with sudden interest. Myn heer van Steen felt that this was fame. Truly, I am Henclrik van Steen of Kit- wyk, young man. But I don t think you have done Brigitta any lasting" harm ; so do not be alarmed." "Then you must know old I)e Keyser of Rotterdam." " I know the great Mynheer I)e Keyser," he replied solemnly, resenting the familiarity of this painter of cows. "May I ask who you are, sir?" "Well, I I am his son s very --yes, his very clearest friend." "A very unworthy young man he is, I have heard Mettje, don t pull at my coat. Still, he is a l)e Keyser. As such he will le related to us some clay through my daughter Mettje here, the promised wife of Mynheer de Keyser." The artist of the cow bowed low, and Mettje blushed and dropped a shy courtesy, while the dairy-maid admired this slim and limber young Mynheer. "And what may your name be, young man ? " "My name, Mynheer? Oh, yes, I I i io KITWYK STORIKS quite forgot. It is Zachary Jansen of Rot terdam, at your service." It appeared that Zachary Janscn had a let ter of introduction to Mynheer from Laurens cle Keyset", and he brought it to him the very next day. " I le is my best and dearest friend, and any kindness you may show to him you show to me," the letter read. Whereupon Mynheer took, as it were, a ser pent to his unsuspecting heart. Young Zachary was entertained in a man ner peculiar to Kitwyk. Hours at a time; he was invited to sit on the settle before Myn heer s front door, -from where there was an exhilarating view oi the.- town-pump. Indeed, in a burst ot hospitality Mynheer nearly in vited his young friend to Sippken on his canal-boat. "Haste hastens lite," Mynheer liked to say; nevertheless as a rich Hutch merchant he set up a canal-boat ot his own with a big, philosophic horse to trundle it down the stream, and so resigned himselt to travel at the: rate ot a mile an hour, and hoped it might not be tempting Hivinc Providence. A svbarite could vearn for no greater lux- * y o ury than to sail on a trekschuit with its coxy JUFFROUW VAN STEEN in cabin, lace curtains to the windows, plants on the sills, easy-chairs on deck, and a faint line of smoke curling" out of the chimney to sug gest culinary possibilities. However, Myn heer had never dallied with the fates more than once, when he went to Sippken, six miles beyond Kitwyk. On this occasion, well wrapped up, with a stiff glass of grog at his elbow, a pipe in his mouth, and a box of hot charcoal under his feet, he sailed all alone down the canal, and discovered that the world is pretty much the same. However, when he really thought of un dertaking this perilous adventure again, his heart failed him ; and so young Zachary s amusement in the society of Mynheer con tinued to be a joyous contemplation of the town-pump. IV OLD JASPAR was sent over to William the Silent to fetch Zachary s belongings. He returned with a varied collection, among them even a guitar tied with blue ribbons, which caused considerable consternation to the maid who did the chamberwork ; even Mettje was perplexed until Aunt Jetta ex- l 2 KITWYK STOR1KS plained. Out of the ashes of remembrance; she produced a iaint idow. " I once knew a vouii!> Mynheer who played on just such a tiling under my win dow," she sighed. "\\hat K>r?" Mett|e asked in surprise. " lo tell me, my dear child, that ah - that he loved me." "Does playing on that always mean that a youn^ Mynheer is in love?" Mettje spoke with evident anxiety. JUFFKOUW VAN STEEN 113 " Yes, nearly always." " Why did he play outside of the window ? He might have taken cold." " He never did recover," and Aunt Jetta sighed heavily. " Of what, poor aunt ? " " You see, child, your grandfather was deaf, a man of violent passion, sudden purpose, and he lived only for his tulips. One night he thought he heard something move among them " " Dear Aunt Jetta ! " "He turned the watering-pot on them on him. He was drenched he died." From the shock, dear Aunt Jetta, that night?" " Not quite." Aunt Jetta heaved a sigh. "It was thirty years after, but I always felt sure it was the cause of his death." And she dusted the guitar and felt a gentle interest in young Zachary. " I wonder if any one has played before Billa s window ? " Mettje mused. P>illa de Groot was her clearest friend and the most enterprising young person in Kit- wyk. She had been to Rotterdam, from which she brought fashions that made Kitwyk H4 KITWYK STOKIKS groan. One day a coffin-shaped box came by canal-boat and was borne into the De (iroot house. Immediately alter awhil sounds broke the stillness, so that worth}- burghers in passing paused and shook their heads. It was said that these sounds had a great deal to do with defeating" Nicholas de (i root s heart desire to be Burgomaster ot Kitwyk. Mynheer de Ciroot had little to say in his own house , and that saved him a great deal of exertion. 1 le liked to smoke his long clay pipe, sit at the window, and watch the canal- boats pass, and he- rejoiced to think that he was not on one. Mynheer was not so grate ful for what he had in life as for what he avoided. Sometimes when he had the energy he wished some one would kindly marry Biila and take her and her piano away ; and just when it did seem to him as if no one would come to his rescue, the maid one afternoon ushered Mynheer van Steen into the sitting- re om. "What?" Mynheer de (iroot murmured. " Yes," said Mynheer van Steen. Then there was a long pause, during which Billa s father took a short nap. from which he was aroused 1>\ these extraordinary words: " Will JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 115 you bestow on me the hand of [uffrouw Billa ? I shall be very lonely when Mettje marries. "Do you mean it?" Mynheer de Groot asked tremulously. Mynheer van Steen to marry Billa and the piano! "My dear friend, my dearest friend, take her, and God bless you ! " and he spoke hurriedly for the first time in his life. Then it occurred to them to notify Juffrouw Billa of her good for tune. The piano was still sounding- over head. The two old gentlemen shuddered at the harmonies, and Mynheer gazed at the bold suitor with a wan smile. . "Don t be alarmed. I have no fear. We will change all that. The late Mevrouw van Steen obeyed me like a a lamb." Mynheer de Groot vanished, the piano stopped with a crash, but in hardly more than a moment he reappeared, quivering, undone ; even his lower lip trembled. " What ails you ? Where is your daughter? " " My dear, dear friend." Here he dropped into the nearest chair and groaned. o " What speak out." " It it cannot be." " What are you talking about ? n n6 KITWYK S I OK " l)illa clear God in heaven, that 1 should have to say it! Jiilla will not." What, he, I lendrik van Steen jilted tossed aside by a iool ot a girl . Mynheer spoke; never a word more, but he seixed his cocked hat and cane,-, slammed the door behind him, and vowed veiiLi eance. Mvxm .KK ZACHAKY was a great acquisition, and he made himself infinitely agreeable. As lie had much tact and unlimited spare time, he talked with Mynheer about investments, herrings, and I )e Keyser ; with Aunt fetta about poetry and cooking (for she loved both); and lie helped [uffrouw Mcttje to water the plants and cut the fruit in the kitchen garden. I )are to say there is no sentiment in a kit chen garden! 1 )id not Mettje sit on the bench under a peach-tree,- and stare at a fat. ydlow pumpkin and feel that her he-art was breaking ? Strange to say, ever)- atternoon before this, while Mynheer van Steen took his nap, and .Aunt (etta s front reposed on a bust with JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 117 out features, Mettje with her garden basket on her arm met Zachary in the kitchen gar den, and he helped her to gather vege tables. No sentiment, indeed ! Why, a field of vegetables is as full of poetry as the deso late moors. Oh, Teltower turnips and ten der carrots, Brussels sprouts, poetry of cab bage, melons in golden ripeness, and great black grapes with a purple blush ! Pumpkins heavy but precious, yellow pears mellowing in the sun, and peaches as rosy as Mettje s cheeks. No sentiment, indeed ! There was even shadow to brin^ the sunlight into relief, o o for Mettje s heart was heavy because Zachary did not come. Mynheer van Steen, who abhorred music, was awakened the very next afternoon by the tinkle of a guitar. At first he thought it was an aggressive fly, but at last he traced the ob noxious sound to Mynheer Zachary s chamber overhead, and when that sinner strolled in for his afternoon cup of tea Mynheer remarked that he should advise his young friend to cul tivate the acquaintance of Billa de Groot, as she made just the same damnable; noise. Then the awful secret was divulged, and Mettje heard it. nS KITWYK STORIES " f uft roil w de (iroot, my old friend from Rotterdam? I have seen her very often since I came here. She played to me yesterday afternoon." Here .Metre s hand shook so as she passed the tea-cup to Zachary that it played a tune of its own on the saucer. So, while she had waited in vain in the kitchen garden, he was le imng over that dreadful box on spindle leg s and gazing into liilla s eye., ! Mettje hid behind the tea-kettle and was very wretched. Just then Zachary asked for more tea, and as he held out his cup he tried very artfully to touch her slim tinkers with his own. 1 do not say that he had never be fore succeeded, onlv this time Mcttje drew herself up with great dignity. P>ut when she returned the cup he looked so reproachfully, so beseechingly at her, that she wished she had taken firmer hold of the saucer even at the risk of meeting the hurried touch of his hand, for it fell with a crash and inundated the tea caddy, the cookies, the dish of rock- candy, and the sacred tea-cloth, and just then the maid came in with a letter which she placed at .Mynheer s side on the window-sill. Then like a crack of doom sounded his voice. JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 119 " Mettje, my child, rejoice. Mynheer de Keyser is coining; next week. In the mean time he sends you the expression of his pro found esteem." With one accord Alettje s eyes met Zach- ary s. She forgot her anger and pain, every thing but that this was the end, and the roses faded out of her cheeks, and her lips trembled- " Aha, young man, you will meet Mynheer under particularly pleasing circumstances, lie shall help you at my recommendation." And all day long Mynheer went about the house murmuring, " Nicodemus, Nicodemus de Keyser, my son-in-law," lie put his nose into every pot and pan, and was discovered shining the little mirror in the cniest room <7> O with the tail of his dressing gown. In short, his one thought was to make everything worthy of the illustrious advent of Nicodemus de Keyser. In the midst of the expectant joy young Zachary s face wore a look of profound gloom, so that at last Mynheer van Steen remon strated. " What ails you, young man ? He happy Mynheer de Keyser is coming." 1 lere Zachary groaned, and leaned against J Vz> t_> i jo KITWYK STORIES the: table and played a tattoo on the shining mahogany. "The truth is, I must L; O away. "Oh, is that all?" "All!" "Well, you could not expect to stay for ever: the best of friends must part." At this juncture Mynheer burst into a ^rult "I law! haw ! while Zachary stared at him in sur prise-. " Yoimi^ man, do you think that I am a fool ? I )on t you suppose I know that some thin^ ails you? Shall 1 LUICSS ? " " ( itiess ! "Think I am blind, eh? Well, not of late years! \OUIIL; man, you are ha! ha! in love." "In love. Mynheer J . " "Such things have happened before it s no crime," and he wa^^ed his old head. "You are ri^ ht," and Zachary appeared resigned. " I am in love. "So, while she played Man--, ban;;, b:m^. and you Twani^, twan^ , twan^, Cupid flew between, eh ? \\liy to llea\cn, you fool, don t you marry her J " Zachary seated himsc;lf in the nearest chair and contemplated his worth} friend. MliTTJE. JUFFROUW VAN STKKX 121 " Marry her ? That s not so easy." " Does n t she know ? " Zachary sighed. "Of course she knows; I thought so. Then, in Heaven s name, of what are you afraid ? " "Well, of her father." " Of her father ? A nice lover you ! Don t be a milksop ! There, \ve 11 speak without sentiment. I know the young person, and I have reason to believe that her father is dy ing to get rid of her. He loves her, of course, but still she is too lively for him. Here is your chance." " But, Mynheer, I have neither money nor position." " Bah ! He has enough for all. Listen. What is done cannot be undone." " I know, but I do not see the connection." Younir Zachary lacked imagination. <"> J o "She is his only child; he will forgive her even if she marries you against his will. He must relent I will intercede," and Mynheer slapped his honest breast. Zachary leaned back and ga/ed at him with sparkling eyes. "So you advise me to to 122 KlIAVVK STORIES " I advise nothing. All I say is, the inevi table cannot be undone, and he will relent." " I hit tin: going that is not so easy." " Listen, Zachary. 1 will give you a proof ot my friendship. You shall have my trek- schuit, jaspar, and the horse whenever you wish. Jaspar shall ask no (juestions ; he rarely speaks, and he never thinks." "My more than lather! Who would have thought to tuul so much sentiment in so seri ous a man ! " "Sentiment? 1 believe you! \\ait until you see the trekschuit and the: little cupboards tor rum and gin, and a charcoal stove. No thing wanting all my own inventions. True sentiment remembers that man must eat and drink. ( iod bless you, my boy! The boat shall be ready whenever you are. This being a true history, it must be con fessed that no sooner was Zachary in the cor ridor than he shook with suppressed laughter, while on the other side ot the door Mynheer >ank back in his arm-chair and roared until the tears rolled down his tat cheeks. "And so tlie piano was too much i<>r you, Nicholas de droot? Xow we shall see how vou like: that other damnable instrument; and JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 123 this time, Mynheer, it is ha! ha! for- ever. The next day Zachary confided to his be nevolent friend that he was ready. "Ah, you sly dog, when do you want the trekschuit ? You see I am a man of my word." "At five o clock to-morrow morning." " Five o clock ! " Mynheer cried in dismay. " Why, old Jaspar never got up at five o clock in his life. He could n t and he would n t." " Shall my life s happiness wreck on old laspar?" Zachary demanded with some re sentment. "Why at five? Make it nine." "We shall get no start. If we go at five no one but you will know, and when they miss us about ten o clock, why, don t you see, there is n t a horse in Kitwyk fast enough to over- ) take us r "That is true. I will do more. I will bribe Jaspar, he shall have a new snuff-box. But one thing I cannot do : I cannot see you off." "(rod forbid!" Zachary cried in alarm. "That would n t do at all." " Well, then, God be with you ! We vc \24 Kl FVYYK STOKIKS all been young in our day. Aha, you sly rogue, you ! " VI Tm; eventful day dawned like any other day except that Mettje had a headache, so Aunt [etta said. Mynheer shook his head in disapproval and ate his breakfast in silence. lie ate live meals in marked displeasure, and alter a hearty supper he and Aunt [etta sat down for their nightly game oi cards. " I am glad, fetta, when Mynheer de Key- ser takes the child oit mv hands," he cried j irritably. " Did it ever occur to vou that Mvnhcer is j * a little old for Mettje ? " " Old . J )etta, don t you make me angry ! And down he Hung his cards. "Yes, old," Aunt fetta repeated stoutly. "There, take up your cards and play." " I tell you a De Keyser is never old." "Very well, then; he has been younger. She will never love him." "Love love? Did I ever love Mevrouw ? Never! But did n t we live in peace and comfort . J " " Vou did." JUFFROUW VAN STKKN 125 "Will you hold your tongue, Jetla?" "There, yes, I 11 stop. Take up your cards and play." Mynheer obeyed, though boiling with rage, but as he had o-ood cards the wrath in his O face </ave way to a look of pleasing excite- < > j o ment, in the midst of which some one knocked with the knocker against the front door. " Some one to see Mynheer," the maid an nounced briefly. This is no time to come. Can t see any one." And Mynheer did not even look up from li is cards. "Shall I tell him to wait, Mynheer?" Tell him to go to the devil. No, tell him to wait. I am busy just now." " He looks accustomed to waiting," the handmaid volunteered, and departed. Myn heer played on. Half an hour passed, the luck began to turn, and Mynheer lost his temper. The door opened once more. " If you please, Mynheer, he is still waiting. He would be glad if " " Get out ! Tell him pretty soon. Impu dent beggar. Beggar, is n t he ? " "Probably, Mynheer. He is shabby enough." i2(> K1TWYK STOKIKS " Tell him to come to-morrow," Myn heer commanded petulantly, and continued to play until there came another knock at the door. "Come in, and be handed!" he roared, and dashed his cards on the table: until every thing shook. ( )n the threshold appeared a little old man in shabby clothes, laded and snuff-strewn. I le held a cocked hat under his arm, and he: looked inquiringly at Mynheer. " I low dare you disturb me? What do you want? 1 )id n t 1 tell you to come to morrow? Am I to have no peace in lite am I always to be pestered? What what who who?" Mynheer gasped, deprived of breath. The little ancient man came a step nearer " I am anxious to speak to you. I have something of importance to say and to find out - " The old story! Mynheer cried, in unrc- pressed scorn. "\\hat is your name?" "Pardon my forgetfulness. I forgot as people always know me. I am Xicodemus de Keyset" of Rotterdam." Mynheer van Steen was prostrated. Kven JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 127 Aunt Jetta stared at the stranger quite aghast. " I came sooner than you expected for cer tain reasons." " Heavenly powers ! " moaned Mynheer van Steen. Here he revived, leaped to his feet, flung his arms about the struggling vis itor, and kissed him on the top of his wig. " Nicodemus cle Keyser, the great, the rich De Keyser, so to receive a De Key ser ! " Whereupon he thrust him into his own arm-chair, placed a cricket under his feet, then with a flash of inspiration he cried : " Call Mettje. She is longing to see Myn heer. Hurry, Jetta ! " " Hendrik, do not forget that she is ill," Aunt Jetta remonstrated, and folded her hands on her knees ; but the great De Key ser interposed shortly, " First disagreeables, then pleasures. Sit down, Mynheer ; you make me nervous. I have reasons for com ing without notice and not giving my name. You may know that I have a son." Mynheer bowed with respectful commiser ation. " He has run away. We parted in anger. He was traced to Kitwyk. Has he been here? I must see him speak to him." 12,8 KITWYK STORIKS " \o, he has not been here; only a V<T\ pleasing young triciul ol liis who brought me a \vann letter ol introduction from your son. To be recommended by a I )e Ke\ ser is sufficient; tins humble abode: has been his home lor three weeks. Perhaps you may know him Zachary (ansen ol Rotterdam." " Xever heard of him. Where is he now?" " I la! ha! a sly young dog". 1 have reason to believe that he has gone on a pleasure ex cursion, in what I guess to be rather pleasant company. You understand, Mynheer; but boys will be boys ha, ha! " I )escribe this reprobate to me, you old fool! Mynheer de Iveyser roared. Mynheer van Steen quaked. A terrible illumination broke upon him, and it was Aunt Jetta who placed a neat silhouette be fore Mynheer de Iveyser. "That is Zachary : he had it cut for me at the kirmess last week," she explained. "As I thought my son." Mynheer van Steen grew taint with rage as he thought how he had helped fultrouw de ( .root to a I )e Keyset , no matter how unworthy. " And is it this voung man who is taking JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 129 a country excursion with oh!" the indig nant father cried, and strode up and down the room. " Call Mettje ! She must come, Jetta, I tell you she must come," Mynheer cried. He would lighten the blow by producing a coun ter attraction. "Yes, you shall see Mettje! Forget this wretched youn<r man. I will O J o* fetch her." " Hendrik, consider she is ill," and Aunt Jetta barred the way. " Let me pass ! " "Then in God s name!" And the old lady sank into the nearest chair and grasped the arms for support. " Something awful is going to happen. O Mynheer de Keyser, be merciful ! She was too young for you." "What are you talking about? Are you all mad?" But before she could explain Mynheer burst into the room, an open letter in one hand and a dripping candle in the other. " Mynheer de Keyser," was all he could say as he tell into a chair and dropped the candle on the floor, " Read." " My dear father," Mynheer de Keyser read, "forLdve me I love him I cannot live without him when this readies you I I shall he the happiest inr! in Holland, lor I shall he the wile ol Laurens de Iveyser." Mynheer van Steen. how is this? You knew that my son had doped with your daughter J . " " ( )h, no, no!" Mynheer groaned. It is a horrible mistake. I thought 1 had rea son to think he lovcc |ultrouw de (jroot. It \vas sh<; I suspected and she has lieen missing all day," and he held his head in hi-, hands and rocked to and Iro. )ust then faspar looked cheerfully in at the door. "I \ e come back, Mynheer. Myn heer /achary sends his love and his best thanks. Me said it was the happiest day ol his hie ; so did the f utln >uw." " futlrouw what [uflrouw? "\\liv, fulirouw Mettje, ol course." " Blockhead! And you let your master s daughter run away in a boat with this villain, and you did n t try to brinv; her back, even it it you had to knock him down? I Ins was too much tor old faspar. " I )id n t you tdl me to take no notice;?" he demanded in righteous resentment. "Did JUFFROUW VAN STEKX 131 you not say to me, Whatever you see or hear, jaspar, don t he surprised. Don t ask questions, don t notice the young" folks. It is all right ? And I will say, it was pretty hard not to be surprised when I saw Mynheer Zachary lift Juffrouw Mettje into the boat. She was all rosy red and ready to cry, but young" Mynheer kissed her, and I heard him say: It s all your dear father s doing", it it had n t been for him we never should have got away. You see it is God s will Mettje. So she wiped her eyes and was very happy." " It s all a lie ! Mynheer shouted, but Jaspar s composure was not to be ruffled. "And, it you please, here s a letter from Mynheer Zachary," he added, and departed. The letter was addressed to Mynheer de Keyser when he should arrive in Kitwyk. " Later, Mynheer, you will explain to me your connection with this wretched affair," he said sternly, and then he opened the letter. My dear father | Laurens wrote , you were very unwise not to take my advice. Had you granted me my wish, Mettje, instead of being my dear wife, as she will be when this reaches you, would have been my revered mother. If you knew my enchanting Mettje you would understand that I prefer her in her present character. Vou must 1 32 KITWYK STOKIKS know I strayed to Kitwyk out of sheer idleness, besides I \vas curious to see the youn^ person who was will ing to he my step-mother. I he first thiiu I did was to fall in love with her. It is not my fault: it is .Mettle s, ainl even you will forgive when you see her. After all, she remains m the tamilv. and that is a threat tiling. Ahove even tiling thank Mynheer van Steeii lor the hap piness he has conlerred upon us. Without his aid Mettle and 1 would still he pining in Kitwyk. and instead we are sitting side hy side in the snu^^est cahin in the world, and Me .tjc s head is on my shoulder. () father, if you could only see the roses in Mettje s cheeks! Tell Mynheer that the cupboards were all he described he was too thought ful ! The L^in was particularly 14001! 1401 id as the advice and help of [uttrouw de (I root, which, next to his own. helped to support Mettje and me in this trial. Had 1 not already chosen Mcttjc. 1 ini^ht have followed his excellent counsel and taken juttrouw de. (Iroot. hut even Mettje thought we d hetter not change our plans. It is the love liest morning that ever dawned made just for Mettje and me. As soon as I have sealed this letter 1 slnll send it hack hy [aspar and the hoat. Father, don t say tiiat I did not warn you! I said she in i^ lit fall m love \\ith me and I have just asked her. She looked up at me with her brown eyes, and then she hid her sunny head on my breast and said Father, pray forgive the blots, for I dropped the pen to no matter! You were once youn^ yourself and courted Mevrouw. my dear mother, and you know how it is. Forgive me, and some day open your h Mil a- ain. You have had your romance, probably; forgive me mine. If you only knew what I have to live tor now you would believe me when I say that from this day I shall he another man. I, \fRK\s UK KKV.SKK. JUFFROUW VAN STEEN 133 Mynheer de Keyser slowly folded the let ter and gazed in profound scorn at Mynheer van Steen. The pause that followed was sim ply appalling, but Aunt Jetta broke it. " Mynheer de Keyser," she began quite calmly, believe me, you have escaped a great misfortune. What did you, an old man, want of a young wife ? She would have ruined the last of your life. Be grateful that your son saw her before it was too late for you both. You cannot be heart-broken, for you have never seen my niece. To be sure, your son has run away with a pretty girl, but under other circumstances this marriage would have been satisfactory to you. Therefore take my advice, forgive and forget. Return to Rot terdam and receive those children with open arms, and rejoice that your son has chosen the wife of his heart. As for you, brother,"- and Aunt Jetta turned sharply upon him where he sat crushed and subdued, "you seem the victim of a mistake. I will not try to guess why you wished the charming Billa to run away with a young man of whom you knew nothing. As it was Mettje, however, who went instead, I will tell you that I also helped her to escape from a fate an older per- 34 .son would have welcomed." Merc Aunt jetta courtesied aiul Mxnhecr de Kcyser bowed low. "Consider that, as Laurens says, she remains in the family; ami so.it Mynheer will graciously forgive, you certainly should, for," Aunt Jetta concluded dryly, "it was all your fault." "It Mynheer dc Keyser will forgive," the culprit faltered. "Alter all," said the great He Keyser, "it might have been worse, tor I shall not have to worry in future about getting him married. \oiir sister, he concluded, in an admiring undertone, "is a very sensible person." Indeed, in the course ot a week he found her so much to his taste that when he re turned to Rotterdam it was in company \\ith a new Mevrouw die Keyser. I o be sure, not the one he went in search ot ; but, as he ^aid with great satisfaction to Laurcns, \\hen that young man returned from hi-> wedding journey with Mevrouw Mettj", it was all right, lor they had remained in the lamily. I here upon he pinched Meitje s cheeks until the child glowed like a peach, and he pinched his own Mevrouw de Kevser s until she glowed like a winter apple. In the course ol tune JITKKOUW \ A.\ STKKN 135 Mynheer Laurens became a famous merchant, and he; ended as Burgomaster of Rotterdam. From being- slim he grew portly, and when he was in good humor he liked to talk of his travels. The best journey he had ever taken was, he always declared, on a trekschuit. (i Eh, Me v roil w Mettje ? " he would cry, and to her last day Mevrouw always hung- her head and blushed. "What is your opinion, Mettje? Were you ever sorry ? " No, Mynheer if you were not." WILD HUNTSMEN ()! KITWYK Y TKR work, pleasure ! " said the Burgo master, and invited his town-council to go hunting. Kitwyk was aghast. Hunting"? Such a tiling had n t licen known since the memory of man. The day before the great event, Bleeker, the town notary, called on each ot the pro spective guests; it was rumored that in prep aration for this joyful occasion the favored six hat! just made their wills. It did seem to Kitwyk as it it. might have lieen spared this trial, considering. The vacant pulpit of Kit wyk was at last filled l>y a I )ominie, l>ut Kit wyk had not yet recovered from the fatigue of choosing him. lie was the candidate of O Mynheer van Steen. and |uffrouw Defregge s young dream was reah/ed as he stood in the pulpit in his flowing Mack gown, in the midst of garlands of paper roses lavishly twined THE WILD HUNTSMEN OF KITWYK 137 about the altar by the righteous ; and when he thumped the pulpit cushions, he all but thumped on Juffrouw Toni s heart as she sat with folded hands, her blue eyes sparkling. On one point the guests were unanimous : dangers they might have to face, but they d be hanged if they would do it afoot. Then, too, what \va$ there to shoot? The only game known to Kitwyk w r as cows. It was suspected that Duffels knew, he was closely interrogated. Was there danger in the proposed sport? "Not unless Mynheer Piepenbrink falls over his own sword," he replied as he shaved that worthy man, who declined to go hunting with any other weapon because of a holy horror of fire-arms. It was an early autumn morning. The cocks had barely crowed when Kitwyk was up and the town-pump in active operation. Presently the victims appeared, followed by the maid-servants bearing the implements ol destruction, muzzle downwards, as if for a funeral. Mynheer Piepenbrink, with heroic resigna tion, carried his sword, which got fatally en tangled in his spurs. They all wore spurs and pick-boots in honor ol the occasion, and Mynheer de (iroot, to protect himsell from the bullets ol his Iriends, wore the helmet ol one o[ his ancestors. \\itli a rattle of arms and a jingling ol spurs they leaped aboard the- canal-boat. Mynheer de Groot, wisely deciding that there was no immediate dan ger, took oil his helmet and mopped his head. Duliels unmoored the slow horse, Myn heer \ an Steen s [aspar grasped the wheel, and so ihey slarted. ( )n deck, around a table, stood seven arm chairs. Xot only were jars ol tobacco pro vided and lon;_; clay pipes, but the kettle was bo; uiv; on the brass stove, while several hi^ h- shonldered bottles made a friendly picture m the midsl ol yello\\- lemons and blue Me It sn^ ar-1 x >\\ Is. It was the first si^ht that touched them, they smiled. Mynh - T Piepenbrink relin(]iiished the jjrasn of his sword; he was about to sink into tlie nearest chair when a fatal discovery was made ; the jack-boots ot the Seven \ ears war were so petrified by lime that it was im possible either to sink or sit, they were all TIIK WILD HUNTSMEN OF KIT\VVK 139 immolated in the cast-iron embrace of their boots. There was a ghastly silence. The trekschuit trundled along, only slowing up when the worthy steed was tempted by something" very juicy in the way of grass. In this supreme emergency Mynheer De- fregge uttered these bold words : " Let s take them off ! " An instructive sight it was to see their mu tual helpfulness. With one to hold and an other to pull each was in turn released, and the winds of heaven played over their stocking- feet as they drank grog in silent gratitude. As a hunting party it was too hastily de clared to be a distinct success. " Blexern ! " cried their host, "this is not hunting ! " "What is there: to hunt, Mynheer I)e- fregge ? " it was Jonkheer van 1 ,00 who broke the painful silence. "I have created wild beasts." Mynheer Defregge spoke in conscious triumph. Tt was a pleasant, uncertain day. The sun light was tempered by soft, opal clouds; the blue of the sky was touched by gray. The trekschuit bumped up to the bank, the horse was hitched to a post, but it was obvi- 140 KITWYK STORIES ous at once that a huntinif-partv in stocking- o I * o feet was too hold an innovation. The fourteen martial hoots that clambered heavily over the side of the boat probably never contained more concentrated suffering. " 15e sure and he l>ack at six, Jaspar, with out fail." They were all homesick. They stood on the hank and watched the trekschuit bump otf, then they were alone in a wilder ness, as far as the eye could reach they saw only a long, dull, green expanse ot cabbages. Mynheer I )efregge led his suffering quests through a hobbly loot-path, and their spurs got entangled in the grass. lie turned on them in triumph: "This is our hunting ground the game is about us! It was a terrible shock! ( lame wild beasts I leaven only knew with what they were surrounded. 1 hey had read ot timers and hyenas. Mynheer I)efregge alone was unmoved. " 1 hiffels," he cried sternly, "what is this . J " lie pointed to the nearest hunch of cabbages, under whose shadow, placidly nibbling a leaf, sat a hi:.; white rabbit. " \\ hy is he so tame . J " Duttels scratched his ear. "Because he is so happy, Mynheer." THE WILD HUXTSMKX OF KITWVK 141 " He has no business to be happy," cried his Worship. " How can we hunt him when he won t run ? " The huntsmen breathed more freely. "Your Worship, the fields are full of them, and they are desperately wild," said Duffels. Mynheer de Groot took Duffels aside: "You are sure that they are all rabbits? Something- of a more dangerous might might have " It was only rabbits that Mynheer De- - j freq-o-e S et out in the spring, " Duffels an- o o o swered. "There were four of them; these are ahem their children." Far in the distance rose a modest clump of trees. With sinking hearts they found that this was their destination. No one, unless he has tried, knows the agony of walking in jack-boots and spurs across a stubbly field, dragging a blunder buss. Mynheer de Groot puffed along carrying his helmet. Mynheer Piepenbrink paused to feel of his pulse. But the worm will turn, with one accord the) stopped. "We won t go any farther! Do you call this hunting?" for a great, fat rabbit skipped KITWYK STORIHS between the K Li s ot [onkheer \ an Loo ;UK! tripped him up. "Duffels, the very same rabbit! What does le mean by bein^ so taillilkir ? " "lie s one of the old ones, and her feels very much at home here; the others are very wild. I assure; you." \\ ith sinking hearts they jo.L^ ed alon^", and just as they were; about perished they reached the little OTOVC. Mere another appalling siedit burst on ihem. ( )n a low platlorm. as on an altar, something lay hidelen, covered by a lone; white sheet. Hopeless and forsaken they stood in a LH eat waste; of cabbages. I he rabbits sat on the outskirts and pricked up their lone; ears. Then it was that Mynheer 1 iepeiibrink turned to flee, and M\ iiheer de ( in>< it grasped his helmet. "\\hat?" and Mynheer van der \ dele shuddered. Mynheer He-Freeze smiled benignly. They paused. "Calm y nu rseh cs, there; is no danger. See! " It was only an innocent sucking-pie; rest in (in a rude oven, a smile <>n lis tat face. T1IIC WILD HUNTSMEN OF KITWYK 143 proval. There were benches, too, under the trees, and many precious things appeared out of Duffels s basket. It was, however, discov ered that Dr. Pynappel of Ketwyk had thoughtlessly i/one hunting with no other O J O O weapon than an umbrella. lie basely used it as an excuse to decline the sport; in fact, he put an end to all discussion by taking off his boots. For a moment it seemed as if the bad example would prove contagious. The Burgomaster was in despair. "You shall c/o hunting" 1 11 be hanired it I O O O sacrifice a meadow for nothing ! Are you read} ? It then appeared that Mynheer van Steen and Mynheer de Groot had left their ammu nition in the trekschuit, which was halfway to Kitwyk by this time. But go they had to, all the same. Dr. Pynappel was lett in charge of the pig. As a scientific man IK; examined the contents of the baskets and turned the spit to see how it worked. lie: even extended his sympathy to the rabbits who nibbled their way into view, un aware of the immolation prepared lor their kindred. Then, like a warrior, with his boots 144 KITWYK STOKIKS tor a j)illo\v, he stretched himself on a bench and tell asleep. Immolation, indeed ! Do you know what it is to go hunting and have the game whisk between your legs? Lions and timers, indeed ! I)id any man ever endanger his existence by tripping over a tiger and being nearly impaled on his own sword, as happened to Mynheer Piepenbrink . J I Ie would not be- lett to recover, but pro ceeded slowly, leaning on tin: arm ot Mynheer de (iroot, holding a red bandana handker chief to his nose. As tor Mynheer Oefregge, he was rapidly losing patience. " ( iood Lord ! why don t you shoot . J " he cried. " 1 he the beasts are so near we can t take aim I " "Then I 11 shoot. Mynheer Uefregge was purple with wrath. " ( iet out ot the \\ ay, can t YOU J . " It was a terrible moment. Where should they flee to escape destruction ? At what would the heroic man aim . J Xot to witness the slaughter, they closed their eyes. Mynheer de droot and Mynheer Piepenbrink put their lingers in their ears. THE WILD HUNTSMEN OF KITWYK 145 Bang ! Bang ! Then two distinct roars of anguish. It was not the stricken prey, it was their friend Jonkheer van Loo crushed under the outstretched form of the Burgo master. Jonkheer van Loo \nth splendid confidence had stationed himself directly behind his friend. But Mynheer s musket kicked backwards with such fatal accuracy that he fell against Jonk heer van Loo, who sank with his whole weight o> on a very noble winter cabbage. " They are destroyed," cried Mynheer van Steen, and the possibility of being the next bunromaster flashed through his mind as he o o helped raise the stricken men. What should they do ? Three of them al ready disabled. They stood midway in a for lorn plain; the canal lay in the dim distance; a lowering sky, a rising breeze, and impassable ditches cut them off from the habitations of men. They gazed at the distant trees where their friend, the doctor, was waiting for them. Wistful smiles broke over their worn faces as they also remembered the pig. "Let us go back," said Jonkheer van Loo. "I I must shoot something! " the Bur gomaster remonstrated. KITWYK STOK I) ut they would n t let him. I le had proved hi-; valor. "Duffels, 1 must at least know how many I haver destroyed," but I hilfels dis- covered no victims. So thev lilted their valiant feet and trudged hack through the cabbages, and it must be acknowledged that the destruction tliey in- flicted on that excellent vegetable was simply immense. "\\hat has happened? the doctor cried aghast. As a scientific man he wasted no words, he simply brewed a ]orum of L^TO^ and whisked the covering from the little pi^. It was sufficient, they smiled once more. " Liedit the lire, Duftels, and let him roast, said the Burgomaster. \\ ho has not noticed, \\hen dead-tired and hungry, the tantalizing aroma of roast pork on the cold air ! The little pie; seemed to enjoy it himself, he smiled, as it he knew how LMHK! he was in nn^ to taste. They all took ott then" boots ; their united eves were fastened on the tender youn^" crea ture. Mynheer Piepenbrink was bending forward, bathed in that divine aroma, when he M-ave a cry of dismay a drop of rain had fallen on his nose. Till-: WILD IIUNTSMKX OF KITNYYK 147 It could not be! Divine Providence could not be so cruel in the lace of that young crea ture browning to perfection, and they so fero ciously hungry ! There was no escape the oven stood exposed to the blasts of heaven. The clouds lay in heavy dull-gray masses, the sea of cabbages stretched out like lead. There were ghostly squeaks and scamperings, a hissing sound the rain spluttered on the little pig. The Burgomaster tore his hair. Despair seized them, just as the doctor, like one inspired, raised his umbrella the pig was saved. Each heroic soul held the umbrella until exhausted. It was Mynheer Piepenbrink s turn. His face was a fiery red, his arms ached, and the rear portion of him was dripping. "lie must be done! I fe looks so black!" They crowded about. The flames, fat and showy flames, but deceiving, illuminated their anxious faces. "Quick, Duffels, knives and forks and the plates." Duffels groaned. They were for gotten. Oh, Juffrouw Defregge, where were vour thoughts that morning? i 4 8 KITWYK STORIES l)iit necessity creates the man, Mynheer I lepenbnnk s sword leaped once more out oi its scabbard. " It may not lie sharp enough," he faltered. It was rat KT dull, and the difficulties are ol>vious of carving a pi^ over flames that frolic in the face oi the carver. |)octor Pynappel held the umbrella while the spit \vas lifted to the ground. Mis I lonor on his knees well, it was n t carving. In the a^ony of expectation no one heeded the rain that gently drenched the tire. \\ith admirable fortitude the Burgomaster 1 lid the iirst proof of his skill on a cabbage- leaf. I hey tasted solemnly and licked then" tin- L^ ers ; the crackling was burnt, but not bad, and yet and yet l>ut it was decreed, the unsteady flames had burnt his fair youn^ outside to a crisp, and die heart of him well, it was n t done 1 >y any means. "I m him back," groaned hi- I lonor. Put him back, indeed, with the last flicker of flame feebly licking the wet peat in the oven. They were so discouraged that they forgot the umbrella, and the ram drizzled j^ently o\ er him. THE WILD HUNTSAIKN OF KITWVK 149 "Let us go home!" It was Jonkheer van Loo who broke the fatal silence. " Go to the canal and see if the boat has come, Duffels." They cowered under the trees and tried to put on their boots. No Duffels, but more rain, and a mist lay over the cabbages. They crept to the oven, and rivulets trickled into Mynheer 1 )efregge s ears and down his back from Dr. Pynappel s umbrella. But serve him right ! A man should n t go against tradition, and who ever heard of hunting- in Kitwyk ! " It may cost him his position," Mynheer van Steen whispered to Mynheer de Groot, as they reclined in a kind of steam bath on the edge of the warm bricks. It grew darker. Xo Duffels, but a new horror the wild beasts of Kitwyk were up on them. Myriads of four-footed creatures squeaked and scampered and surged towards the warm oven. The ground was covered with iat, white rabbits. Clambering up their legs, nibbling their coat-tails tickling their feet- " Blexem ! " groaned Mynheer Defregge and plunged forward and clutched his boots, there was a rabbit in each one. 15" KITXVYK STORIES Panic sei/ed them. Mynheer de droot grasped his helmet to ilee, and a tat rabbit dropped on his head. They snuggled into I )r. Pynappel s umbrella, closed in defence, and into the coat-tails ot (onkheer \-an Loo. Heroism may 1>e a crime! 1 hey iled. de serting boots and blunderbusses. They stam peded across the meadow, and stumbled over the cabbages it is surprising how short a time it takes for a really heroic man to save himself. I he canal be^an and ended in mist. Xot a boat was to be seen, not a sound to be heard except the snores ot Duffels asleep in the shelter ot an empty watering-trough. Could [aspar have forgotten . J Mynheer van Steen shook his head. [aspar was nothing" it not obedient. Then they re membered that because ot his ^I eat obedience (aspar had recently helped (uftrouw van Steen to elope with young Laui ens de Keyser. 1 hey would perish unless rescued. Mad they been less heroic they might have been in bed. They confiscated I hiltels s tub, and all sat down. A friendly bull trog began a solo; it was the only entertainment they had tor lour mortal hours. THE WILD HUNTSMEN OF KITWYK 151 But thank Heaven, their bones were not destined to bleach on the sands, not only be cause there was no sand but because Kitwyk J came to the rescue. That clay Kitwyk had been a kind of muni cipal orphan. Vague were the surmises as to the destination of the heroic band. Jaspar was interrogated. The canal beino- in a straight o > <5 line his explanation was not very much in volved. At three o clock such of Kitwyk as were not taking- an afternoon nap assembled on the canal to see Jaspar oft. Excitement had risen to fever heat. Jaspar sat in the stern smoking, the horse trundled oft. The} were still gazing when the trekschuit came to a sudden stop, Jaspar had run on a mud-bank. Kitwyk looked at him, and he looked at Kitwyk ; Jaspar felt that he ought to be res cued, on the other hand Kitwyk decided that he ought to appeal for aid. They gazed at the shipwrecked mariner for two hours until it began to drizzle hard, then they went in and said Jaspar was not a prac tical man. As for Jaspar, he; retired into Myn heer van S teen s cabin, and being, as it were, i 5 2 Kl I WVK STOR1KS deserted by ( iod ami man, he brewed himself a bumper of ^"I o^ and fell asleep in Mynheer s own arm-chair. It was at ei^ht o clock that dismay sei/cd the souls of Kitwyk. To lose the lUin^o- master, a town-council, and the doctor at one fell s\\ oo|) ! In IJurj^oniaster Defreg g e s house the ta ble was set for supper. A bo\\l of steaming hot [)()tatoes in their jackets graced the center, flankedon either side: byadisli of fresh herrings tenderly laid side by side. Pats of butter there were too, and crusty rolls, and apple sauce, and cheese, of course. At one end stood tin- tea urn, but the alcohol lamp was burning nn- heeded, for 1 utlrou w Toni s anxious face- was pressed against the window pane. I )id not her lather know that, like all divine things, a potato has its supreme moment! Alon^ the market place burghers of kitwyk armed with lanterns were hurrying towards the canal. Toni s heart ^ave a sudden thump as she reco-ni/ed the tall figure of the I )ominie. " What is the matter?" and he grasped a scurrying parishioner. "To the rescue to the rescue ! ( )f what?" Till-: WILD HUNTSMEN OF K1TWYK 153 "The Burgomaster and Mynheer van Steen and the town-council." At last the Dominie understood why he had not had any supper disaster had overtaken his worthy host. The canal was crowded, and the Van Loo horse was being hitched to the trekschuit. "Who will volunteer to go in search of our heroic, our lost friends?" cried the pirate, who was naturally the leader in this perilous en terprise. There was an eloquent silence, danger had already overtaken too man}" of the brave citi/ens of Kitwyk. The Dominie hurriedly decided that, as he could have no supper until Mynheer van Steen returned, it would be well to rescue that worthy man at once. I le volunteered. As the boat started a young- person thrust a heavy box in the Dominie s hands. It was Juffrouw Defregge, and the bulk}- thing was a foot-stove hot with blazing charcoal. Perhaps it was intended for her father, but I leaven only knows. They thumped along until they fell afoul of Jaspar s trekschuit. They awoke that obedient man and took him aboard as pilot. He was very melancholy and wept with dire 154 KITWYK STOK1HS forebodings ; he also demanded gin, but Jonk- heer van Loo s canal boat was not victualled tor long voyages, so the sorrowful man tell asleep. They journeyed through a misty night, noiseless but tor the creaking ot the boat and the towing rope. IHurred houses and wind mills sailed past, and ghostly cows on ghostly meadows. The drizzle ceased, the clouds floated slowly away a crescent moon peeped shyly over a church spire. Suddenly a weird, monotonous sound broke the silence. Captain van I wist and Overste de Rock stared at the Uominie, Jan \Villem Piepen- brink rubbed his nose with a vague sense ot recognition. 1 hey pec-red into the darkness, the trekschuit bumped up against the bank. \Vhat is stronger than the voice ot nature? Jan \Villem listened as one tinder a spell. I Ie rose, he spoke. "It it s my uncle, I can t be mistaken ! " lie w;is not. It was the voice ot nature. I ncle Piepcnbrink was mercifully asleep, and it was he who saved their lives. So they were found, the seven heroic men, cowering on a tub, fast asleep. Duffels had THE WILD HUNTSMEN OF KITWYK 155 modestly retired to a distance with a young cabbage as pillow. No, their bones were not destined to bleach forgotten on the sands. It was sufficient to look at them to see that they had barely escaped with their lives. Even Captain van Twist, as a retired pirate, had never seen anything more pitiable than their condition. The adventures that Kitwyk did not hear stirred them perhaps more than the most blood-curdling narrative. It is needless to say how these heroes were received. The best that could be done was done ; they were put to bed and comforted with something- hot, but the very next day they nearly sneezed their heroic heads off and took an enforced vacation. The only note of sorrow in the universal joy emanated from the youth of Kitwyk, who wondered why God had spared the school master. It was perhaps this rash entertainment which cast the first shadow of a doubt on Mynheer Defregge. There was about him too much of the wildly heroic. Had it not been for their daring rescue, they might have perished lamentably and become a legend, or, what is perhaps worse, a piece oi poetry. I5f> KITWYK STORIES Xo man has a ri^ht to sacrifice lathers of families and other L;ood citi/ens to his own mad xest tor adventure. \\ hen the worship- tul town-council so tar recovered trom their colds as to IK: able to think at all, they rec ognized how narrow liad been their escape, and the memory of that entertainment rankled like a deep wound, and there- came a time when - lint the Burgomaster of Kitwyk would not be warned. THE BLIGHTING OF MYNHEER VAN STEEN IT was Juffrouw Rozenboom s cast-iron con viction that Toni Defregge had done it on purpose. Kitwyk did not wish to be cen sorious, but who ever heard of a sensible young person walking along" the highway in black satin shoes? As for Mynheer van Steen--but it is impossible to describe the rage of that worthy man. Since the day Mettje van Steen eloped to Rotterdam with young Laurens de Keyser, he had been very lonely in his house on the Kitwyk canal. In his loneliness his eyes wandered about, and rested on the round, rosy face of Juffrouw Defregge, and this young spinster seemed worthy to fill an aching void. Sundays, after church. Mynheer s stumpy legs invariably led him to the Burgomaster s, where, in a back-room, the sermon was dis cussed between sips of the best Dutch gin and puffs of long day pipes. The gin was K1TWYK STORIKS d, and Mynheer had long passed that a^e when its being poured out by I oni I)e- fregge could enhance its merits; but she was aware, as she tilled the glasses, oi two promi nent boiled gooseberries that looked at her in heavy approval through a cloud of tobacco- smoke. [ullrouw Uefregge was herself possessed of an aching void. Two blights, not uncon- nected with the town-pump and a disappoint ing candidate, had settled on her. She grieved for Mynheer van Stern, and regretted that she was destined to blight his existence; and she looked at him in a way that he ought to have understood, only that Mynheer van Steen understood nothing more intangible than gin, coffee, and herrings. Indeed, with the eye of her imagination, she saw him much longer, much thinner, less given to gin and more to passion. ISut just as [ulfrouw Toni s imagination was languishing tor want of sustenance, and Kitwyk was clamoring for a new Dominic-, another candidate was an nounced, and this time it was Mynheer van Steen s candidate. kitwyk was at this time in such a state of utter demoralization that it had to borro\\ BLIGHTING OK MYNHICKR \ AX STKKN 159 its ministers ; and, indeed, the hist little stranger in the family of the uncomplaining Duffels was still an unbaptized heathen. In this dilemma, Mynheer van Steen wrote to the theological seminar)- in Sippken, and de manded a candidate by return of canal-boat. " Let him not," he explained, " be too young, or so featured as to attract the eyes of women, who are both weak and foolish. Suffice it that he is a godly man, and that he can well expound the \Yord." So it was that Dominie Debray came to Kitwyk ; and when Toni Defregge went to church that eventful Sabbath, she had so little confidence in the kind intentions of Divine Providence that she wore only her J second-best cap. It was afterwards discovered that the theo logical seminary of Sippken had mislaid Myn heer s letter, and had sent the wrong candidate to Kitwyk instead of to another place that demanded something young and progressive. Indeed, he expounded the Word in a way which made Juilrouw Defregge at the loot ol the pulpit stare at him with devoted blue eyes, and drink in his eloquence as the rose the dew. The very next Sunday, for the first [6o tune in the history of the church, the sexton h;ul to put wooden stools in the aisles, such was the enthusiasm ot the temale worshipers; and [ulfrouw Rozenboom, who appeared in a marvelous new cap, had a spirited altercation with a mistaken sister who had basely cap tured her scat in the ^anctnary. Never had there been in kitwyk such a revival ot active religious interest. I emale worshipers even stiKK on stools outside ot the windows and stared in durin divine: service. It was ver In vain did Mynheer van Steen, with a prophetic sense ot evil, deprecate his own candidate and his own judgment it was all ascribed to an excess of modesty. I lave him kitwyk would; and so, one summer s day, the Dominie made his triumphal entry in Happing Mack L; O\\ n, muslin bands, and s(|iiare cap. and kitwyk was hun^ \\ith gar lands, and the mildewed pillars ol the church were festooned with paper roses; and on one side ot the market place stood the school- chili i"en. and bobbed courtesies, pulled their flaxen forelocks, and san^" a shrill SOUL; of welcome under the direction of the school master, \\ho played the fiddle. After which BLIGHTING OF MYNHEER VAN STEEN 161 there was a banquet in the state room of William the Silent (a little musty from dis use), of which such of Kitwyk as felt in clined to pa) two guilders were at liberty to partake. Mynheer van Steen did not enjoy the auspicious occasion, nor, after that, a long visit from the new Dominie while the parsonage was being refreshed with a coat of yellow paint. But Mynheer knew how to take advantage of his own enforced hospitality. As he wandered with his guest in the inspiring regions of the kitchen-gar den, he sniiied the aroma of ripening vege tables, and felt so moved that he confessed his aching void and the future destiny of Jtiffrouw I )efregge. " It is as good as settled," he explained, by which he meant to say that he had his own consent. " But youth has confidence in youth ; and as you owe me: much, young man, so, in godly converse with Juffrouw Defregge a minister has so many opportunities speak of me," and he mopped his head with a yellow bandana, "as a grateful heart would naturally dictate ." Alas, such is the natural perversity of the human heart that young Dominic- Debray, who h;ul hitherto overlooked the charms ol (ultrouw I elre^e, was suddenly sei/cd \\iih an ungodly interest in that youn<^ person. ( )f all the excellent temales who Hocked to hear him preach it was the usual treak ot tale, that on y the lorbidden charms (>l [ut trouu I )etre^e;e should haunt his thoughts as he saw her her sunny lace flushed and her Mile eyes upturned to him \\ith a devotion most praiseworthy. I here was, t<> he sure, an upward tilt to her nose which, in his unri-ht eons sell communities, he was inclined to dis parage; hut when he considered her mouth, the two red lips touched by a wistful quiver, the sparkling eyes subdued to a proper devo tion, and the sunny curls escaping from the little cap he was inclined to be lenient, and it was, indeed, with a ^roan that he remem bei ed that she was destined lor his benefactor. 1 he parsonage stood 111 the shade ot tile chestnut trees near the old church, and it had a queer triangle ot a garden meandering into the market place, from which it was separated by a lind -n hed^e. Mere, many and many a lime, llv I )ommie paced up and down in un righteous perplexity, to the consternation ol the narsona e ( at, \\hich retired under the BLIGHTING OF MYNHKEK VAN STKKN 163 hedge, her back well up, and followed the Dominie with disapproving green eyes. lie- was against all tradition, and his legs were abominably long, and he paced the garden in the nearest approach to agitation that the: par sonage cat had ever seen. ftiffrouw kozen- boom could just overlook him behind her muslin curtains. " I le is meditating on his discourse," and O [uffrouw Rozenboom was much impressed. "So young and so godly! The old Dominie never meditated," which was partly true, for he had never meditated on the subject of Juf- rouw Defregge, and so it was that Dominie Debray earned a most undeserved reputation tor piety. I i was at this time that Duffels s youngest was still a little imbaptized heathen. As the tenth olive-branch Duffels tried not to look upon it with reproach; as for Mevrouw Duf fels, she was convinced that it was born to greatness. Mevrouw Duffels had begun life in the establishment of Mynheer Defregge; to her had been confided the care of the De fregge geese, and it was while watching her KITWYK STORIES drive her snowy flock to pasture, armed with a willow wand, stumping alone; in her \\ooden shoes, her red cheeks ^ lowin^ like two apples, and her blue skirts whipped by the wind, that Teat execu- I hitlels was captivated. She hac tive ability; never did the giddiest j^oose or Bander sti ay out ot the reach ot that lon^ \\ il low wand, \\-hich recalled the most erratic fowl to the path ot virtue. It was indeed this which had helped Mevrouw I)uliels to cope success- hilly with nine little I hittelscs, but it was when the tenth arrived that she was inspired with sud< en anil )iti< >n. So one day I hittels knocked apologetically at the lUir^ omaster s front door, the occasion beine; serious. [uffrouw I )efre^;^e was in the kitchen, her arms deep in Hour, tor she was rolling out a certain ancestral cake \\hich had been made by Defrei^ es from the same receipt since the days ot the Spanish m<|insi tion. I he brass pots and pans on the walls, the wattle iron and the brass mortar, all re flected her. but not one did her justice, though her cap was on one side and a dab ot (lour or namented her cheek. A snowy linen apron was tied under her chin, and about her floated the fragrance of rich and spicy baking from the BLIGHTING OF MYNHEER Y r AN STEEN 165 brass-bound stove that panted and throbbed and ran a race with the [une rose clambering J o in at the window, to see which could smell the sweeter. Duffels s mouth watered with long ing, and it was with a sigh that he recovered his senses. Would Juffrouw Defregge honor them by being godmother to the youngest? Mevrouw Duffels had discovered in him infal lible signs (Duffels was privately uncon vinced) that argued for future distinction. Juffrouw Defregge, her chin on the rolling pin, gravel) considered the serious responsi bility of a god-child. " \Ye have our pride," Duffels urged, "and it being a new Dominie, it will greatly raise-, us in his esteem." So fuffrouw Toni consented. I lowever, Duffels s youngest remained a heathen, for the clamor of contending candidates lelt him un- christened. Hut salvation was at hand- Mynheer van Steen s candidate; arrived, and one late; autumn da) Duffels again knocked at the Burgomaster s front door. "The Dominie is coming out to us this af ternoon for the christening," he announced. A glow swept over fuffrouw Defregge s face, and her blighted existence betrayed symptoms <>t reviving. Il \vas that attrrn<><>n tliat she put on those little black satin shoes which aroused the resentment ot Kitwyk. In those \er\ shoes her mother had captivated the 15 ur- Li omaster in the days before he had nailed her int< the toml). I* ar beyond the outskirts ot kitwyk, beyond the \ an Loo woods planted by a wise and dead \ an Loo a whitewashed dwelling", with a shaLLy settle before the door, stood in the embrace, as it were, ot tour ditches, where all manner of aquatic animals lived in L^reat har mony, and where the bullfrogs kept up a lively thrum. I lie lonely road through the \ an Loo woods was covered with withered chestnut leaves, pine cones tell with a soli thud, and vj eat raided chestnut burs dropped from the branches, through which tin- sunlight til tered and tell in golden sj)lasheson the heaped up rustling leaves. I he I )ommie in his ^<>\\n and cap, \\ith his muslin bands under hi-, chin, \\alked alon^ the lonely path, lost in thought, and he ^ <i\e a guilty start as he crossed the ditch before I hitfels s house, t(>r on the settle by the door, be^ iniiin^ thus early to exer cise her duties, sat a yoiin^" person holding in her amis the newest Ihiftels bab\ , \\ ho was BLIGHTING OF MYNHEER VAN STEEX 167 sucking his finders and staring foolishly into vacancy. This was the first time that the Dominie had ever been quite alone with Juiiromv I )clre-gge:. who rose: at sight ot him, her eyes cast down, her rosy cheek against the baby s flaxen head. She said nothing. The Dominie grasped his prayer-book, and looked past Mistress De- treggc, and could think ot nothing but Myn heer van Steen. So ghastly silent were they that the: baby, with a prophetic sense: ot dis comfort, began to kick his fat legs and howl most uproariously, till Me:vnmw Duffels flew to the: rescue, and apologized lor the: ungodly con duct ot her offspring, struggling, as lie- seemed to be. against the: holy church. Whereupon she- bore the- sinner into the: house 1 , his chin resting upon her shoulder, whence he: stare-el at his worship ami his god-mother with wet, round eyes. ]>ut the: youuge:st Duffels was not without a saving grace-, tor no soone-r eliel the- Dominie take: him in his arms than he: cuddle-el con- tenteclly against the- black gown, and stare-el innocently at the- muslin bauds till, siulele-nly. he: made: a bold grab for the-m ; ami so, with the: help ol a cracked blue china bowl, he- was 1 68 KIT\YYK ST<>klKS made a Christian, ami (uttroiiw Defrei^ e her eyes bie; with responsibility -- promised to help him renounce the world, the flesh, ami the devil. So it was over, and the 1 )<>minie put up his prayer-book, ami looked uncertainly at luttrouw 1 )etre^e;e. 1 hen it was that Dul- teK s understanding sank forever in the esti- mation of his wife. "1 will LM> home \\ith [uitroiuv Defrei^g e," he said ami wondered why she shook her head at him, and hitched her elbow towards the unconscious Dominie, and why he was most unexpectedly sent to letch peat. I hen Mevrouw 1 hillels. her biv; hands (in her bi^ hips, and her lace edo\\ me; \\ith placid benevolence, watched the Domi- nie and |ultrouw 1 Jelree^e cross the ditch, ex citing to ,i |e\\ quacks the ducks thai floated in the e;Teen water, while the bullfrogs twanged like a \\hiile orchestra of bass fiddles, ami fuffrouw I )etrei;"i^"e flushed and then L^rew pale at the touch of the Dominie s hand. As it with one accord, they walked very far apart on the level road; ami between them trotted at least to the spiritual vision of the Dominie --a short, tat man with little choleric eves, uho explained that it was as BLIGHTING OF MYNHEER VAN STEEN 169 good as settled, and that he, Dominic- De- bray, owed him a debt of gratitude. At the remembrance, the Dominie, xvith a frown, pulled his gown hastily about him, and pro ceeded to live up to his principles. As for Juffrouw Defregge, on the other side of the road, though her eyes were downcast, she could still catch a cornerwise glimpse of him ; and very stately he looked, though very grave, and never a glance did he vouch safe her. If she could have her say and she shook her head in deep meditation she would have the long black gown fuller on his broad shoulders; nor would she be satistied with the set ot the bands it it were only her blessed privilege to make- them ! At the bare; thought she sighed so deeply that the silent man on the other side of the road looked at her in surprise. "As soon would I think ol a rose- sigh ing ! " he cried ; and then, feeling that the remark was not serious enough, he: added hastily, "What ails you, [uffrouw Defregge?" And because: they were just entering the shade of the Van Loo woods In: was spared the sight of Mistress Defregge s blushes. I he sunset was tillering with golden Ldory throu^ h the trees, and the road, which had L^rown narrower, was piled hi^h with tallen chestnut -lea\ es. Sometimes a lonely bird darted through the branches, and tar in the distance they could hear the sleepy tinkle ot a cow-hell. 1 ruly, it seemed as it they were all alone in the world! Suddenly the I )omi- nie .stopped, bared his head, and took a lon^ breath, as it he had a ^"reat weight on his heart; and (ultrouw loin turned upon him her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What ails you, Mynheer Debray?" and her heart beat very fast. "Nothing nothing," and the Dominie s cheek (lushed. "I 1 was thinking ot Myn heer van Steen a very worth) man, and a \alued friend he has proved to me." His gratitude was of a most gloomy nature. [uffrouw Deirej^ e stared at him, and then she laughed melodn uisly. " lint why should the thought ot Mynheer van Steen make you si^h ? "It does not It does not! lie replied in feat haste. " A man has manv reasons BLIGHTING OF MYNHEER VAN STEEX 171 heer van Steen has been younger, he is still in a great state ot vigor." " I le is very fortunate ," murmured Juffromv Defregge; "but I do not " He is also a man of means," the Dominie interrupted sternly. "So I am told; but what of that?" she cried, in sad perplexity. But the Dominie was not to be interrupted. " Youth " -and he strode angrily along, so that Toni had to skip briskly to keep pace " youth is an unstable thing by itself. It re quires the support of steadfast age. What cannot a man like Mynheer van Steen give a young wife? not to mention his undying gratitude. Think of his undying gratitude ! " he: repeated, but he stared straight in front of him. " But I don t want to think of his undying gratitude," and Toni pouted. "No; between you there can be no such question." And the Dominie relapsed into silent gloom. "None none," Juffrouw Defregge nearly sobbed in disappointment; for they were nearing the end of the road. And with this she stamped her foot, and gave a sudden cry, 172 KITWYK STORIES and would have (alien bad not youn^ Domi nic Debray sprung forward and caught her in his arms; and tor a moment her white face lay against his Mack LM>wn, and her blue eyes were closed. " ( )h, Mynheer van Steen! the I )ominie groaned, and then I oni opened her blue eyes, and Tier face quivered with pain. "My foot, oh, my toot!" she: moaned, while the Dominie looked up and down the lonely road for help; hut nothing was to he seen hut the sunliidit stealing" through the trees, and a frightened hare scooting past. "Oh, Mynheer van Steen," his soul cried within him, and he felt that the burden was more than he could bear. " Please set me down, please! |ultrou\v I )rfrey^e sobbed, whether from pain or what, I leaven only knows. I ler little mantle was all awry, and her hat was on one side as he placed her tenderly against the loot ol a gnarled old chestnut-tree, and then- he stood and looked helplessly down at her and at the poor foot outstretched in a little shoe of black satin. " I think," and t\\o tears dropped down bit trou w 1 h-tre^e s roum cheeks, "it is a thorn." Vainlv the. Dominie looked up and down BLIGHTING OF MVMIKER VAN STKKN 173 the road for succor. Then he spoke with an effort, "Will you let me see?" Never was there a sterner face as he took the little black satin foot in his hand. The little black satin shoes of Mevrouw Defregge! C )h, the vanity of woman ! Age had made them very frail, and an ancient hardened chestnut- bur had pierced the thin fabric. Sternly the Dominie took off the shoe, but his hands trembled. lie bowed his head the world was spinning about so little a loot! what had become ot his honor ?-- Mynheer van Stcen ! The chestnut thorns still clung to the red stocking, he brushed them off gently, he did not kno\v what he did. "It is better," Juffrouw Defregge faltered. With a deep sigh he looked up: " Toni Toni," he cried, and Mynheer van Steen was forgotten, "1 I love you," and he rose-, hid his face in his hands and bowed his head. "Mynheer Debray," Toni whispered, and like a Hash she saw that she ~\vas destined to make the: muslin bands. He did not move; his attitude was one of profound dejection. KI I \VYK STORIKS I lien a miracle \\ as wrought. juffrouw DeireL^e rose to her teet. " Basil," she whispered, and citing to the old cliestnut-tree for support, "why should you not love me, 1 le turned on her. " I o ask me that ! Is there not Mynheer vim Steen ? " "Dnt \\hat concern is it of Mynheer van Steen. " she rried ; and a sudden smile broke over her face, and she looked away from Ins ea^er eyes, and her bodice rose and fell with the quick beating of her heart. " loin!" was all he said, and he looked neither up nor down the road, but he held her in his arms. " Basil, Basil, [utiromv I )etre^ ^e mur mured, "youth is an unstable tiling, but it does not need the support of steadfast a^e ! and because she was weak, and needed su pport, Basil put his arm about her, and so they walked verv slowly down the sun splashed road to gether, and the hare, that had scooted across the road before, lingered on the outskirts, and rubbed his whiskers in undisturbed serenity. As for Kitwyk, it declared that no sensible maid had ever before walked through the \ an BLIGHTING OF MYNHEER VAX STEEN 175 Loo woods in black satin shoes. There were others, however, who were inclined to think that Juffrouw Defregge had been very sensi ble, (uffrouw Rozenboom even went so far as to declare that she had done it on purpose. As lor the rage of Mynheer van Steen but that cannot possibly be described. T1IK BURGOMASTER S SOFA i IT \vus Mynheer I )efre<j^e s mistake that lie \\ished I\it\\\k to join in the march ot Progress, which Kitwyk declined, bein- satisfied with the customs of its ancestors. Indeed, the worthy man pursued Progress so constantly that his ^old headed cane was for ever coming down on youthlul burghers with a /est out of which a lnt of pendant shirt tail could not be expected to take the stiiiv; ; and, indeed, there was only one tiling of which that redoubtable man thought more, and that was Toiii, his daughter. loin I Vfre^ e had been the subject of many a foreboding prophecy by reason of her worldly skirts ;md an ignorance of serious cooking: so, when Kitwyk heard that |ut- froiiw I >efre-.--e \vas to marry the new min ister. it was simply aghast. Perhaps Mistress I oni was a worldly youn^ maid, but she loved her 1 )ominie. and she , 7 6 THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 177 wondered why this great and good man had chosen one so unworthy as herself. She quite forgot that she had helped him as far as beseems a maid. For three hundred years the town -council of Kitwyk had met in the same whitewashed room, around a green baize table hallowed by the scorchings of generations of clay pipes, and eight ancient oak chairs were worn smooth by three centuries of legislators. A long line of burgomasters in tarnished gilt frames looked down on their descendants from the walls, while through the diamond- shaped panes could be seen the market place and the town -pump. Now lor three hundred years no one had questioned the beauty and propriety of this apartment. It was, therefore, like a thunder bolt out of a clear sky when the Burgomaster demanded a renovation of the council-cham ber, a coating of whitewash, a new baize for the table, and soap and water for the faces of the ancestral burgomasters. The town -coun cil was dumb with horror; and it simply col lapsed when Mynheer Defreg ge added, lean ing on the table in the attitude; in which he expected SOUK; day to be painted, that he de- sired the appropriation of a sufficient sum for the purchase of a sofa for the exclusive use of the Burgomaster. A sola tor the Burgomaster! In I leaven s name, what were they coming to . J [onkheer van Loo was the first to recover himself. " Blexem ! does the Burgomaster propose to M< ( ]) in the ci ninci chaml >er . J " Now this was a delicate point, and the ci uincil c< >u L^hed clubii >usl \ . " I he Burgomaster should have a sofa be cause of his exalted station! Mynheer I)e- tl e^^ e 1 etoi ted. "Never! " was all that [onkheer van Loo could utter. " \\ ho is the Burgomaster of Kitwyk?" "\ou are a dangerous dema^ o^ iie ! and (onkheer \an Loo clapped his three cornered hat on his head, and leaped to his teet. Mow to describe the consternation of Kitwyk ! A brand new sofa for the sole use <>t the Burgomaster! It was the wild dream of a tit" furniture of almost i e;_uil luxury to be ob tained onl\ tnun Kotten am by trekscliuit ! It this \\-as ]>roL;Tess, let kitwyk beware. THK BURGOMASTER S SOFA 179 But the town-council proposed a compromise ; and, with a sense of disloyalty to their worthy predecessors, they agreed to the- whitewash, baize, and soap but the sola they resolutely declined. Xever mind your French revolutions ; for a real upheaval ot society you are referred to the chronicles ot Kitwyk. It was the Burgomaster s opinion that, it Kitwyk could only once; be brought tace to lace, with this sota, it might gradually be: reconciled. 11 is heart was set on it; it was the outward and visible sign of his dignity, and it was to impress the I )efregge relatives at Toni s wedding. In those days he wrote man)- letters heavy with seals to Rotterdam - the times were serious for Kitwyk, and the post-boy complained. n I "I 1 was a spring day. The furze along the roadside was a golden yellow, while the: banks about the Kitwyk mill were red with blossom ing clover. The Burgomaster sat alone in his council- chamber, and the portraits of the ancestral I So K1TVVYK STORIKS burgomasters looked down on him from their newly whitewashed walls with uneasy surprise. A knock at the door was followed by I hiltels. " Duffels," Mynheer said solemnly. " I have sent tor you because of my L^ reat confidence." l)uffels partly bowed and partly courtesied. "To-niedit I expect something by trek schuit. It will be addressed to me. Ask no questions; but convey it to the council cham ber, lock it up, and brm^ me the key 1 hitfels scratched his head. " Please, your Honor, mi^ht I ask what it is?" " No ! " thundered the threat man. " It is a surprise. I hat ni!_du at supper the obedient Duffels was announced; he was enveloped in a haze of perplexity. "Is it safe?" the Burgomaster asked, in evident agitation. " \ - ves, y< >ur I b >n< >r. "And placed in the council chamber 3 " "V yes." " \\ as it heavv ? " his patron. " \\ as it well covered ? " " \ es ( ih. ves. THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 181 The Burgomaster was too greatly elated to observe Duffels s perplexity. He carried a dark-lantern, and led the way to the town- hall. The trouble with this age is its dead level," he said bitterly, parti) because of the truth, and partly because he had hit his shins as he climbed up the narrow stairs. But it was with solemn triumph that he flung open the council-chamber and illumined the scene with his lantern. " You may call this a sofa," and he; glared at the unoffending Duffels, "but to me it is an altar " here: he paused and peered about. Then he began again. "On this sofa, as on an altar, I thunder and lightning, where is the. sofa ? " "What sofa?" Duffels repeated, vacantly. "The sofa that came by trekschuit to night, you imbecile ! " " Nothing came but this," and, hiding un der the sacred chair of the Burgomaster, I )utlels disclosed a small mongrel cur who cowered before the awful ga/e of the chief magistrate of Kitwyk. I le wore a little blan ket, and by his side stood a rush basket. " What does this mean ? " i,S2 KITNVYK STORII-:S " 1 It- is addressed to your I lonor," I hitlcls ventured feebly. " I -- 1 -- though t there must be some mistake, but you would n t let me explain." I low to describe the ra^e ot that i^Teat man! "Get out ot here 1 he cried, in just resentment, to the little dov;, who, overcome by the majesty ot the rei^nin^" head ot l\it- wyk, \\ith its bit ot a tail between its le^ s and its blanket all awry, hopped down stairs and disappeared in the arkness. Lvery ni^ht at ten o clock there shuttled out ot the porch ot \\ illiam the Silent, carry ing a dim lantern, a shabby old man, who picked his way absently over the cobble stones. 1 his nivdit it was so dark that the pump loomed up like a vdiost, and he mi^ht have run against it but lor a dismal wail at its loot, and lowering his lantern, he found it was emitted by a very small do^ in a volu minous cloak which was entangled in an iron < irnament. "I oor beast," said the schoolmaster, and released him. The little do-- crept close to his rescuer and i^a/ed at him with such melancholy eyes that the old man was touched. lie walked on a lew steps and THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 183 then he looked back ; the dog still sat there watching him. " So you, too, are friendless," said the; schoolmaster, and patted him on his blunt head, and the result was that he took the little dog" home. No one ever claimed him, and no one ever noticed him but the schoolmaster s sister, Juf- frouw Rozenboom, who lived in the two rooms on one side of the entry while her broth er lived in the other two, and they were not merely divided by a chilly stone-paved entry, which that excellent lady rejoiced to drench with soap and water at unexpected seasons, but because of her righteous contempt for his patience and lack of enterprise. When the old sexton, Rozenboom, died, he willed to his daughter, along with his violon cello, an ancient sola, the one article of luxury in the family. This piece of furniture Juf- frouw Rozenboom immediately bore to her best room, a sacred apartment where tew penetrated, and nothing was left to the schoolmaster but three, hard and shiny horse hair stools. Reminiscences ol this sofa floated before him in day-dreams, when he; saw it back in its forsaken corner and he himself reclining in its hollow, mellowed to tin- lui- in;m torni by generations ol Rozenbooms, smoking" his lon^ porcelain pipe. I lad he not once- dreamed in its corner? She was dead, the LMrl he had loved, and lie was a lonely old man, he did not pine, tor the long~-lost happiness, but only lor the sola. in IT was of course when he did not expect it that the Burgomaster s sola came. Its muttled torm was borne to the town-hall in silence. It was a lon^ , L^aunt, horsehair structure studded with brass nails. I he town- council was just in session when there was heard a turbulent scuffling up the narrow stairs. The Burgomaster turned ghastly pale, as did such ot his council as were awake they remembered the French Revolution and other popular uprisings. I he door burst open, and in stai^ered lour men with a muffled load. An oil-cloth bein^ in ba^y breeches and a hu^ e sou wester addressed no one in particular in a hoarse voice that lay in am bush behind a beard like a yellow whisk broom. He was the skipper ol 77/c I lurstv THK BURGOMASTER S SOFA 185 One, the canal boat plying between Rotter dam and Kitwyk. " Mere it is at last, your 1 lonor, and here is the bill," and the old sea-dog- rolled for ward and pulled his forelock. There was a dead silence. The Burgo master was embarrassed ; he blew his nose and coughed. It was Jonkheer van Loo who spoke. " What what what is it ? " "The Burgomaster s sofa." "The; sofa lor the council-chamber," Myn heer Defregge explained. "Never!" shouted Jonkheer van Loo, while the town-council breathed hard, which was all that could be reasonably expected of them, but the)- gazed at Jonkheer van Loo as if their only hope was in him. " You are a demagogue ! " cried that pa triotic man. It is such as you who begin with sofas and end with thrones ! But we are equal, no one shall sit upon a sola above his fellow man." 1 here was an approving murmur. " Blcxem ! here: it shall stay," and the Bur gomaster beat the new baize cover with his fist. iS6 KITWYK STOKIKS " \\ e refuse an appropriation," the town- council cried as one man. ( n what avail that Mynheer Defrej^e was a man ol iron? His council was unmoved by the horsehair Ldry. or the brass nails, ami they declared a hundred ami litty guilders lor a sola to be hivji treason, and refused to pa\ the bill. 1 he liur^omaster retired in out ra^ ed dignity, and the merchant in Rotter dam clamored tor his pay by canal-boat; feeling in Kitwyk ran to fever-heat the outcome was unceitain ]iist as the time apj)roached tor the wedding ot [uflrouw I )(.fV(.(--u- (! . I he parsonage was ready. A fragrant LM apevme blossomed over the porch, and a [line rose twined around the windows, and the bull bricks glowed in the early summer sun. I he parsonage cat washed its lace until it was a \\omler that it had any lelt, tor |ut- trouw |)elre^^c \\ as ti marry her I )ominic. I here had been other weddings in Kitwyk before, but this one Mynheer I )efrei_^e pro posed should mark an era, lor in the march ot Progress he had learned a ^reat deal. An ancient ,^ lass coach was resurrected out ol the hav lolt ol \\illiam the Silent, its windows THE BURGOMASTKR S SOFA 187 were washed, its tarnished gildings were bur nished, and the cushions, in which the festive moths had made havoc, were beaten and patched. T\vo horses, which in private life tilled the soil, were tor a couple ot weeks fed on the fat of the land. Kitwyk watched these preparations with bated breath. All the Defregges from far and near were invited, except an old aunt in Sippken who had money, but for whom Mynheer Defregge would have been obliged to blush. She was an eccentric lady with a great distillery and a fortune in pigs. She was also frightfully dem ocratic, and it was rumored that she approved of the krench Revolution. She was a mighty lean old woman, with a beak of a nose, a black front, and a huge black cap; she wore, besides, men s boots and blue stockings, and took snuff. I he day before the wedding Kitwyk was shaken to its center. Kobus, the; town trum peter, armed with a hand-bell, perambulated the streets and announced that a carriage would in turn be sent to all the guests bidden to the: wedding banquet of (uffrouw I Vfregge. I his was indeed a sign of Progress, for Kit- w\ k had hitherto attended all such state occa- iSS Kl I VVY K STORIKS sions on its lee;s. It was further requested at least such was the rumor that no one would betray ill breeding by coming on loot. Mynheer I K-lre^e had debated a lon^ time it at the civil marriage, at which as chief magistrate he was to preside, he should be discovered in the council-chamber seated in all his idory on the sola in that attitude which had been his dream, or if the guests were to assemble and he were then to sink majestically in that sacred corner. lie finally decided to appeal" |ust before the bride and ^room, and he L^ave very particular directions to kobus to miard the sola to prevent any sacrilegious person from usurping his place. So, hall an hour before the ceremony, kobus unlocked the town-hall and patrolled the length ol that noble piece of furniture, while the old burgo masters on the walls looked very uneasy. At hist the I )efre^e (Lltls were assembled and the lUir^ omaster appeared. Mis dream was reah/ed, never was there anything si > majestic as his step, or so red as his lace; and tile buckles ot his shoes, and the buttons of Ills coat shoUe resplendent. 1 le looked about \\ith royal condescension and singled out the richest and worthiest I Jelre^^e whom to honor. THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 189 This was a little dried-tip magnate from Java with a bad liver, who was being- made much of by all the Defregges, and whose visit had been full of pleasant surprises. The assembled Defregges were much impressed by the cour tesy of those great men, neither of whom would sit down before the other, so at last they sat down simultaneously on the Burgo master s sofa, or, rather, the}" did not sit down, they simply disappeared from the; face: of the earth, and for a moment the assembled De fregges were paralyzed, but at the sound of heart-rending cries they flew to the rescue. Kitwyk harbored a traitor! The seat of that fatal sofa had been un screwed; it had given way, and the two dis tinguished martyrs had sunk into a horse-hair abyss, and both, what with rage; and standing on their heads for a couple of minutes, were in imminent danger of apoplexy. When they at last emerged the magnate from Java s coat was split up the back, and his liver was frightfully upset, and as for his dignity -- but, oh heavens! what could heal his dignity. As for the Burgomaster, he had just time enough to fling himself in the famil iar chair in which three centuries of burgo- i yo KITWYK STORIKS masters had reposed, when Juffrouw I oni ap peared, all in white, her taa: a little pair, and the sparkle in her eyes subdued as she clum; to the arm <>t her I )<>mime. Both were pro- totindly oblivious to the agitation in the air, such is the seltishness ot lo\ e, and [uftrouw Defreeze plighted her troth cheerfully indit- terent to the edoom ot her excellent father, only tilled with a passionate wonder \\hy she should lie so happy. Probably she had not deserved it, for she was but a worldly yonn^ tiling; but perhaps he was not quite so ^ood, nor so in~eat, nor so perfect as she thought, but she never found it out. [utfrouw I )eire<4~i4"e had vanished, and it was youn^" Mevrouw I )ebray who tied to her little room tor a last glimpse of herself in an old tarnished mirror with a true lover s knot on top. She looked at her white linage with serious 1 >lue eyes. " Me\ rou\\- I )ebray, \ ou are a 1 )ommie s \\~ite no\\,"she said, and folded her hands, and her eyes became dim with happy tears. " ( iod bless my dear I)ominie," she mur- mured to hersdt. In the I)ctre^^e kitchen the wedding ban- quet \\as approaching a delicious perfection THE BURGOMASTER S SOEA 191 The tables were set through the hall and the living rooms, and they glittered with silver and crystal. The Burgomaster stalked up and down in nervous agitation, and he pulled his great watch out of his pocket so often that it was warm with friction. The day had not been all he had dreamed, and the magnate: from Java had gone to bed to nurse his liver. But the: glass coach was ready, he himself had seen it attached to the two steeds of William the Silent, and it only remained for Duffels to fetch the: guests. He pulled out his silver turnip again. It was high time for the first instalment. Where were Toni and the Dominie? lie roared upstairs for them, his face was scarlet with worry. They hur ried down and looked about in surprise ; no body was there but the: Burgomaster, and he was grasping his head. "Father, what has happened?" and Toni ran to him. Just then there came a knock at the: door, and with a sigh of relief he tore it open and fell back, for, instead of the chariot of \\ illiam the Silent and four precious guests, there came in a lean old woman in a snuff- colored cloak and armeel with a great cotton umbrella. KIT \VVK STORIKS " I )on t you know me ? " she cried. Mynlieer glared speechlessly at her while she pulled out a horn box irom a pocket under her skirts and took a pinch of snuff. " And Mynheer 1 Vlre^e stamped up and down with both his leet. "Robespierre, my -"ood woman," the I )ommie interposed. "Voting man, don t interfere. \\herc s my do-- Robespierre? I sent him to you by canal boat, nephew." Hut the I Mir- omaster was beyond control; lie had dashed into the market-place and came back wrin^ini^ his hands. I he idass coach \\ as still placidly standing in the yard of \Villiam the Silent. \\ here was the traitor, I hiffels ! " I le s tor^ otten them," lie sobbed. " I or^ otten what?" the unpresentable old woman asked, cracking a handtul of almonds that she had taken from a dish. " The - nests ! " " Never mind her dusty cloak more unpresentable than ever, whereupon she dropped into the chair opposite the bride THK BURGOMASTER S SOFA 193 and groom the very chair that had been re served tor the magnate from Java, and put her sharp elbows on the satin damask. " To-morro\v I shall hunt up Robespierre. He wore a blanket, and his dinner was in a rush basket. I send him to do my visiting, and I judge of folks just as the) treat him," and she bent her beetling eyebrows on the agi tated back ol the Burgomaster. "And now, for Heaven s sake, hurry up the dinner, lor 1 m tarnished ! " and indeed she had eaten up all the loose confections and fruit within reach. Just then there; was a mysterious shuffling at the front door. It (lew open, and before them stood the: unfortunate Duffels, steadied behind by two Samaritans, one of whom, it is painful to confess, was Mynheer van Steen s Jaspar; and Duffels smiled on Mynheer De- fregge with foolish, lackluster eyes, and it did not require a prophet to discover that Duffels was abominably drunk. "Take him home!" the Burgomaster groaned, and Duffels, with a singular inability to discover whether to walk on his head or his heels, was borne away. Then it was that messengers were sent in hot haste for the guests, and though some, KITWVK STUK1KS \\ith ii sense ot injury, bad already L^ one to bed, none ot them could In- accused ot ill- breed me;. Mevrouw van Loo arrived in Mack velvet and bird-ot- paradise, lull ot meek thankfulness that the idory had departed Iroin the occasion. 1 he dinner was overdone, the hot drinks were cold, and the cold drinks were warm, l>ut she never murmured. A tn^htlul old woman with a hook nose and a shocking l>ad dre^s sat in the place ot honor opposite the bride and ^room, and, it possible, put a la^t hh^ht on the occasion. 1 he tact was that the only ones who profited by these tremen dous preparation^-, and Mynheer I )efre^ i^e s mama lor progress, were: the worthy steeds (>t \\ illiam the Silent. \\ho tor two weeks had eaten tln-ir heads ott. As tor the edass coach, it a^ ain retired to the hay-lolt. where it gath ered a ne\\ supply ot dust and cobwebs in preparation tor another ^reat occasion. IV THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 195 to the name of Robespierre, and wears a blanket." Beside Kobus, the town-crier, stalked Aunt Defregge, her cow-hide boots crunch ing- the cobblestones, while with her um brella she poked into all the doorways and under the hedges, as if she rather suspected the vanished Robespierre must be lurking somewhere about. As the.} reached the house of juffrouw Rozenboom, the muslin curtain of her one window was violently agi tated, and she was discovered making strange signals. " What," Aunt Defregge asked in great disgust, "does that absurd old tiling want?" o o for she had no patience with feminine weak ness, and she could see with half an eye that Juffrouw Ro/enboom wore leather gloves, and that there was a droop about her, as of a superannuated water-lily, which enraged the old woman. The door was opened, and they were mysteriously ushered into the back room, which was at once kitchen and bed room, the bed serving as dining-table, and being still decorated with the remains of a frugal breakfast. Juffrouw Rozenboom laid her finger on her lips. i</> KITYYYK STOR1KS " There is in this house," she whispered, "a little black-and-white do^ with a stumpy tail and a blanket, and he came six weeks ago." ( )h. [uffrouw Rozenboom ! The truth was, she could n t abide do^s, and it Robespierre had only been Bitted \\-ith speech, he could have told how often he had been greeted by a pailful of soapsuds, dashed over him, at unexpected encounters, by that prejudiced lady. " 1 le lives with my brother across the en try," she concluded, and courtesied them out, and smiled as sourly as beseems a lady with poetical aspirations. Kobus thumped at the schoolmaster s door, and Aunt 1 Jetre^ ^ e loomed up behind ; and of the two culprits within, one looked wistfully at Kobus as at the personification of righteous law. and the other culprit recognized the hook nose, and the familiar umbrella that pounded so masterfully on the bare floor, until Robes pierre, his little stumpy tail trailing, crept out from between the schoolmaster s le^ s and stood confessed in all his base ingratitude. "Yon recognize him?" Kobus asked. "I do," and Aunt Defregg e snapped her TIIK BURGOMASTKR S SOFA 197 snuff-box with a loud report. Kobus de parted, and Robespierre sank on his fat haunches and bowed his head. The schoolmaster looked uncertainly at his visitor, who had plumped down on a horse hair stool and was staring at him. " If it had not been for that singular female across the way, I should never have found him," she said. The; schoolmaster bowed his head over a pile; of dog-eared copy-books. " Hum! so you did n t mean to give him back ? " He was still silent. "When did you find him ?" "One night he was lost and starving o <_> I brought him home." Aunt Defreg g e pulled up her petticoats, displayed her boots, and took a pinch of snuff. " I am a lonely old man," the schoolmaster was crushed by a sense of his great iniquity, " and never before have; had some one at home; glad to see me; and so I could n t give; him up. It was wicked," he- confessed ; "but his bark is just like; talking"; and at this complimentary description of his merits H,.S KITWVK STORIKS Robespierre crept Lack to the schoolmaster, and they Loth looked wistfully at their jud^e. It was such a poor, shal>l>y little room, with whitewash on the window instead ol cur tains, and the place where: the ancestral sola once stood dolefully l>are. except lor the black marks where the RozenLoom ancestors had leaned their heads against the wall. " Lord ! have n t you anything Letter to sit on than that?" and Aunt I h-fre^c Lounced In >m the h< >rsehair stool. (Mice thei e had Leen a sola, the school master explained, with a sivdi ; Lut now it Le- li HiLM-d to his sister. " I lave y< Hi IK i arm-chair ? " " Xo ; only when I dream, a luxurious dream," he answered, smiling. " Look here," Aunt 1 Jelre^ ^ e s.ud solemnly ; "\\hoe\er found my do^ was to have a re ward. Noii shall have an arm chair." " I hank you. Lut I don t want a reward." Such magnanimity she could not L^rasp. " Lut just think ot a ^ reat, \\arm easy-chair on which \ ou can sit Lv the window and THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 199 " I will take nothing for befriending one 1 love," he said, a little impatiently. "Well, if you won t, you won t," Aunt I)e- fregge retorted ; " but now I 11 take my dog " ; and, with a businesslike swoop, she had the reluctant Robespierre under her arm ; and so juffrouwRozenboom, watching behind her mus lin curtains, had the joy of seeing them depart. For a moment she stood in the market place before the town-pump, lost in thought ; then she: was aroused by the struggles of Robespierre and the clatter of wooden shoes : a miscellaneous throng was hurrying toward the town-hall. There was the magnate from Java, \vho had got the better of his liver, supported by other noble Detregges. Aunt Deiregge gave the reluctant Robespierre a quieting thump, and followed the crowd. A staring placard was nailed to the door of the town -hall. Auction Sale, this Day, for Debt: A SOFA Mistakenly called the Burgomaster s. " I lo ! " and Aunt Defregge grinned; and, lifting her petticoat so as to give free action to her feet, she climbed up to the council-chamber. KITWYK STORIKS It was a scene <>l wild excitement. Myn heer van Stem, his tare purple with emotion, stood on a table and haran-jued the multitude. 1 )own with the denia; OL "lie I " (list then heavy footsteps echoed on the stairs. And the Burgomaster burst into the room. Mynheer van Steen thumped the wall with his mallet. " \Vho makes a bid tor this sola?" I hen the Burgomaster found words; he made tin- only bid. Mynheer van Steen trembled with raj^e. The Burgomaster looked insolently about. Mynheer van Steen in a passion was about to knock the hammer tor the third time, when a shrill voice piped up out ol a distant corner : " I 11 teach \ou to turn my do^ <>ut ol d< x n s ! " It s (inly my old tool <>t an aunt, roared the Urn--! >master. " She s mad ! I m not mad, nephew," she retorted shrilly ; " but I m rich ! " And, to the rapture ot the crowd, they bid against each other; and the Burgomaster lost his head, and Aunt I h-tre^e took si taunted him, and bid brisklv higher. THE BURGOMASTER S SOFA 201 "Two hundred guilders," shrieked Myn heer van Steen, and pounded against the wall. " Who bids more ? " No one. As for the Burgomaster, he stam- o peded down-stairs, and realized that he could never be again what he had been. And so Aunt Defregge, much to her own surprise, found herself in possession of the Burgo master s sofa. " Where shall it be taken to?" Mynheer van Steen asked, and he bowed to the ground. Aunt Defregge, with Robespierre in her arms, stared at him vacantly for a moment; for she was bewildered by the excitement, and there was a flush on her yellow cheek-bones. "Taken to?" she repeated, and Robes pierre began to whine and struggle. She gave him another thump, and stood so long considering that Mynheer van Steen did have serious doubts as to her sanity ; but presently she spoke up. " Take it to the schoolmaster s house ; and see here,"- and she thrust the reluctant Robes pierre into Mynheer van Steen s arms, " he s to go with it. Say they re from the old wo man ; he 11 know." So, after all, Juffromv Rozenboom was des- lined to hear Robespierre bark tor many a lone; day, and the vacant place in the school master s room \\ as tilled by a sola so comfort able and so L^ oi LM ons that it seemed more than ever like a dream. As tor Mynheer I )e- freL^v, he not only lost the Burgomaster s .sola, but, because misfortunes never come singly, Kitwyk, bein^" terribly tired of the march of Progress, the very next time declined to re- elect him to his exalted station. 1 here was a tumultuous meeting of the town-council, the result ot which was that Nicholas de ( iroot, who had pined tor the honor tor forty live years, found himselt at the height of his ambition, and I\itw\k breathed freely once a^ain. Mynheer de ( iroot abhorred inno vations; he even complained ot canal boat- as a tin* hvelv means ot locomotion. 1 !< did what was supremely wise; he slept during all political crises, and he is remembered to this day as one ot the ablest ol the burgomas ters ( >t Kitw vk. JOSSELIN THE Kitwyk windmill overlooked the ca nal, with its boats and barges laden with grain moored to the banks, waiting to be un loaded by the great, creaking pulleys. The mill was a gray old shaft surrounded midwa\ by a balcony reached by a flight of stone steps, each of which had in its day served as mill-stone. \\ hen the balcony door was opened there streamed out the aroma ol freshly ground grain ; even the miller s eye lashes were powdered with Hour, and there; was a haze of it on her red cheeks : for the miller of Kitwyk was a young maid. Man) a skipper, waiting tor his grain to be ground, had watted vain sighs to the miller standing in the doorway, her dark-blue skirts pinned about her hips, her sleeves rolled up, and a white handkerchief tied in a knot at her breast, while on each temple, under her muslin 204 KITYYYK STORIKS cap, stood a bold ^okl corkscrew, the rock on which many a I hitch idyl has wrecked. 1 he \ an delderns had been millers ot Kit- wyk tor three hundred years, and mighty [jroud they were ot their descent; and there never was a hitch in the lineage until, con trary to all tradition, the last heir to the mill proved t< > he twins. It was the idrl who adored the mill, with its dim, winding stairs lost in the L^reat Mack cap turning softly m its eroove so that the win^s could catch each lreath ot the shifting wind. Maarten, the l>oy, was slight and dark and dreamy, with wild lon^in^s that even strayed beyond where the North Sea heats against the sand dunes; and he hated the old weather beaten mill, the level fields tad in;; into the lia/y distance, and the silence broken only by the tinkling c< >w 1 >ells. kitwyk disapproved ot romance, and it it tolerated that fatal quality in youn^ 1 hiymar van I wist, it was because, as the direct de scendant ot a pirate m the rei^ ti of Philip the Second, he was the victim of heredity. I low- ever, the last \ an I \\ist was nothing more bloodthirsty than third mate on the /;\syV/ - JOSSKLIN 205 ancc dc Jong, a merchantman plying" between Rotterdam and the Dutch colonies in Java. Twice a year he came back to demoralize the placid youth of Kitwyk, and to see his old parents. But once when he came back the two chairs by the hearth were empty, and he sat alone in his familiar place, his head in his hands. When he went he closed the green blinds, and stood for the last time by his mo ther s chair, and laid his cheek on the faded chintz cushion against which her irail face had rested; then he locked the door behind him. There was a spider waiting- to weave its web across the rust\ - lock, and it remained undisturbed for man)- a long year ; for now, when he returned to Kitwyk, it was William the Silent who creaked him a dismal welcome. Kit\v\ k listened to his marvelous adven tures with forbearance until one day he cap ped the climax to his riotous imagination : he had seen mountains, he said, higher than the Kitwyk church steeple. After that he was avoided : the lie was too barefaced. I [owever, the stray arrow shot home. "Josselin, now I know! 1 mean to be a sailor like Duymar van Twist." " You will break father s heart. Maarten." 2of> KITWYK STOKIKS I he miller s room, lo\v aiul smoke-stained, overlooked the canal, and here three centu ries of millers had kept then accounts, and watched the coining and going ot the boats. I he last miller ot kitwyk was a proud and silent man, and Sundays, when he paced up and down before the mill, his gold-headed cane; behind his back and his chin well up, he was a very honorable and a very appalling sight. One day the miller s fist came crash ing down on the table, and Maarten, the heir, crept out of his presence, his face as white as the best flour ground in the mill. " \\ ait till you see me sail a man-of-war up the /uyder Zee! he cried to (osselin ; but his voice shook. So the heir rebelled, and OIK- day he disap peared, and his father never uttered his name again ; but in a week he became an old man. I or ten years they never heard ; then a letter came to [osselin. Not a word of sailing a man-of-war up the /uyder Zee, only that he was second mate on a merchantman, the Memory (>/ I\nigarih\ bound to Ilombay from Rotterdam, and that he had a wife a little, young thing and a baby, a sturdy chap as like his grandfather the miller as two peas. "fc u ,-* JOSSKL1N 207 But when Josselin wrote, and implored him to bring wife and child to the mill, he never answered. So the miller of Kitwyk was, af ter all, a girl ; for her father s working-days were over before his time, and she had no leisure lor romancing, she declared. Still, her romance came all the same, and sauntered persistently past the mill toward sunset; and one da)- she found herself looking very intend)- into a tarnished mirror. "Josselin, Josselin," she said reproachfully, " 1 tear this is love" ; and so it was. And, as if Duymar van Twist, whose riot ous imagination had led poor Maarten astray, had not done them harm enough, he must lay siege to the miller ol Kitwyk, and inconsider ately obtrude his dark face into the serious reckonings of the mill, until the miller, who never before had wasted an hour, began to linger on the balcony at sunset, watching the twilight fields, and dreaming. And all Kit wyk but the old miller knew of fosselin s romance;; and the: first time Josselin wrote a love-letter, and sent it to Rotterdam by trek- schuit, such imagination as Kitwyk possessed was stirred to its depths. It was rumored that she, wrote as manv as one letter a week, 208 KITWYK STORIKS and Kitwyk reali/ed the mighty power of love when it reckoned up the postage. So slow was tlie progress o| Jossclin s love-story that one day, as they strolled alonv; the loot- path through the wheat-field, I)uymar broke the silence with a <|iiestion " I low lon^- has my patience lasted, [osselin , J " " I i\e years, I hiymar. I Jut when Maarten returns " hut, my ( iod. il he never returns ? I lave I not been patient? ( ive me the rest of your lite, my [osselin." 1 here was not a soul in si^ht ; the ripen ing" e;rain swayed softly about them; a cricket chirped. lie put his hands on her strong youn^ shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. " \ on know, [osselin, that I am not always a patient man." "And what will you do?" she cried m sudden defiance. " 1 shall j^ o away and never come back." She stooped, and jiicked a blood-red poppy iu the yellow wheat, and tore the delicate petals. " Then e o and never come back, and she turned away. JOSSKLIN 209 " Josselin, Josselin, for God s sake, listen ! I did not mean it ! " She could not speak, for her voice trem bled, and she did not look at him, or he would have seen the tears in her eyes. So he walked beside her in moody silence, and doubted her love. \Vm:\ Duyinar again returned to Kitwyk, it was on a winter night. lie had a message from the sea. Me climbed the mill steps and paused an instant, his hand on the brass knocker. The lull moon shone: across the fields, and turned to silver fretwork the frost on the stunted willows along the canal. The lights irom the scattered houses fell with a red glow across the: moonlight; the shadows la)- keen and clear-cut on the white roads. I he mill door opened. " Duymar, Duymar, you have come back to me again ! " For a moment Josselin forgot her strength and pride, and clung to him, sobbing, her head on his breast. Suddenly she looked up. " \Yhat has happened ? " " Child, child, I have bad news." 2io K1TWYK STORIKS She tore herself from him: lie was the mes senger ot death. "Tlie McDiorv lost --lost with all on board ! She repeated the words like one da/ed, until she saw by his laee that some one else had heard. In the doorway stood the old miller, and tor the first time m years he uttered his son s name. " Maarten. my son . J " Lost ! I here was silence; then the old man laughed, stretched out his hands, and tell senseless to the ground. KnwvK lay under ice and snow. The ca nals cut like black ribbons across the mead ows and marshes. In [osselin s room, in a cradle in which generations ot millers had been rocked, a sturdy little chap lay sleeping peacefully. I he little youn^ tiling. Maarten s widow, was dead of a broken heart, and one ni^ht |osselin had returned from Rotterdam to the mill with her only legacy asleep on her breast. 1 he wind moaned about the i^ray tower, and beat against two lonely figures sti ii^ lin 1 - aloiT the hi diwav. Xi^ht after ni^ht JOSSKLIN 211 the old miller plodded along in a vain search for the Memory, which would never again sail into an earthly harbor. Sometimes he would stop and stare piteously into the darkness, where the frozen canal lay between dead reeds and rushes, and cry that there was no ship in sight, until Josselin, with her arms about him, could coax him home. The last time they found a seafaring man pacing up and down before the mill steps. " You promised not to come, Duymar ! " " How can I sleep, with you wandering over the country night after night ! Josselin, is there to be no end to this ? " The last miller of Kitwyk hobbled up the steps, and the girl clung to his unresponsive old hand as if it could help her. " Am I to be sacrificed forever, Josselin ? For a moment they looked at each other in silence ; then the anger and impatience in his upturned face gave her strength. "No." " Josselin ! " "Duymar, I will not bring into your life the burden of a sick old man and a helpless child who have no one in all the world but me." There was no sound but the rise and 212 KITNYYK STORIKS tall ol the wind. The old miller was staring into vacancy. "1 L^ ive you l>ack your word, I hiymar." i he wind creaked the still wind s ol the null ; a l>at llew heavily past. " Let it l>e, [ossclin. \\ hat is ol no value is easily returned. Ciood niidn ^ood l>y." I in next morning the miller went to work with a white, worn face, and her Idue eyes were very dim. A to\\ -headed urchin clat tered toward tin- mill, carrying a package clumsily wrapped in a piece ol sailcloth. It must lie a peace-offering, [osselin thought, and smiled as she cut the ed^es coarsely sewn together. I hen her hands sank at her sides, and she stared before her: in her lap lay a heap <il letters, and the writing was her own. I Ie had taken her at her word, and sent hack the old love letters into which she had poured her heart and soul. She sprang to her feet, and they tell to the ground. "I will LM > to him: he must forgive me! Ihit as she reached the door a haliy s fretful \\ail stopped her. fosselin paused. " I had forgotten \\ hat ha\ - e I to do with love? ( iod help Ule ! JOSSELIN 213 She went back, and picked up the letters one by one. " He will never know how much I loved him ! " As for Duymar van Twist, he was on his way to Rotterdam, where the Esperance de Jong la} at anchor beside the Boompjes. HE kept his promise, for he never re turned, at least not for thirty-five years, which is never, and when he did, the tow- headed urchin who had carried back his old love-letters to Josselin was burgomaster Burgomaster Defregge, and a very mighty man ; while the mill baby, Maarten s son, had in turn become miller of Kitwyk. He was also a worth\ r married man, and the parent ol twins who, at the age of seven, were old in the ways of mischief. The twins had no reverence for any one, but they had a mighty opinion of Great-aunt Josselin. Once, in school, the Dominie turned his spectacles upon them, and propounded an awful theological question : " \Vho created heaven and earth ? " As if they did n t know ! It was a serious moment, but the twins 214 KIIAVVK STOKIKS were strong in the consciousness of know ledge. " It you please, sir." they piped as one man, "(jreat-aunt fosselin." in TIIKKI: was once a man who was a nine clays wonder, l>ut he was an exception. I here came to an old house in kitwyk, which had been closed i< >r more than a generation, an ancient man who limped and whose clothes were shabby. Xo one welcomed him but a company <>f beetles that scurried across the deserted hearth, and the spiders that lived over the key hole. 1 here was a damp and musty smell when the door was opened, and the sunshine tell across the heavy air. A tumble-down bench stood in front ot the house, under a cherry tree. lie lighted his pipe and sat down, his elbow on his knee. Across the helds, where the ^rain swayed gently, he could see the old windmill, and nothing had changed but the years and he. ( )n the lispcraiicc dc .Aw; there had been no time tor regrets. It was indeed whispered that the last Van Twist had been true to tra " J HKKE C\.MK 10 AN OLD Hol SK." JOSSELIX 215 dition, and that he had sailed the high seas as a very successful pirate. At all events, he was the only hero of Kitwyk, and it was a great blow for the placid youth of the town to discover their hero in a shabby old man who scraped carrots before the residence of the Van Twists ; the}" were reconciled only when they saw the wonderful toys he could make. One day the twins brought to Great- aunt Josselin a basket carved out of a cherry stone, with two tiny spoons inside. There was a startled look in her eyes as the toy lay in her broad palm, and when she was alone at last, she took out of her chest of drawers a bit of silver paper, and in her hand la) an other cherry-basket, and the only difference between the two was thirty-five years. The pirate hardly ever emerged out of his garden-patch, for he was poor and shy and bitter; so one day the Dominie knocked at his door, to lun; the; unregenerate one to church. Whereupon he discovered that the; only thing the matter with the pirate s theol ogy was his coat, which was pain full) shabby. The Dominie went in search of his main stay in all trouble, Great-aunt fosselin. She dropped her knitting as he told his story, 216 KITWYK s roKii-:s and looked away from him across the ha/y fields. "So pool ! and her eyes grew so dim that slu- had to wipe tin-in on her big linen handkerchief. " \ ou see," she explained, tor the Dominie stared hard. "he was once a a friend ot mine." As a result ot this interview, the pirate ot l\n\vyk was requested l>y the I )ominie to give private geography lessons, at a penny a head, to such infants whose parents telt this sum to IK- well invested, and Aunt fosselin at once immolated her own grand-nephews. I hese unwilling victims were led to the sacri lice three times a week l>y the miller s hoy; tor they had a great aversion to knowledge. I he ama/mg" artfulness with which Aunt [os sehn ([iK.-stioned them on their return 1 I >id they love their teacher? " \<> !" they roared, until they found that thi^ was the wrong answer. "So he drinks a cup ot coltee at tour o clock. Is it good?" I he\ smacked their lips, tor in a temporary absence ot the pirate they had tasted. " Ilow does he look in his new brown coat? Handsome and stately J . " JOSSKLIN 217 " No ! " whereupon Aunt Josselin locked up the red-japanned cake-caddy. For fear of meeting him, she never ven tured over the threshold ol the mill, as if the thirty-five years were only a dream ; but the old tenderness had to find an outlet, and the twins were the unwilling channels of anonymous gifts. The pirate never inquired the name of the donor, but his unerring in stinct told him when a jug of cream had diminished on the road, just as he discovered, with a prophetic eye, that a string of twelve sausages had in its transit been reduced to eleven. "Who ever heard of eleven sausages!" and the twins quailed under his spectacles, whereupon he bent on them his long, thin nose. I hey burst into a paroxysm of cough ing the fatal secret was out they smelled of garlic. O "1 am deeply grieved," said the pirate; and he thrashed them. So the twins suffered because of that old romance; of Great-aunt Josselin s. One late autumn day their sufferings reached a climax the pirate announced his approaching birthday. 2iS KITWYK STORll .S \o\v, when Aunt Jossclin heard it was the pirate s birthday, she invaded the mill kitchen tor the first time tor years, and, with a Hush on her handsome old face, she mixed a cake which lor hulk and richness caused the cook to clasp her hands in ecstasy. \\ hen it emerged trom the oven it was a circular, nutty structure, rich with raisins and citron, on the expansive, deep-brown bosom of which was inscribed, in tat letters ot white sui^ar, "To ( )ur Faithful Feather." 1 low Aunt [osselin had pondered over that dedication, and lingered blushing over each let ter ! She had even a vaeaie hope that the pi rate mi^ ht suspect, \\hereupon she wrapped it in a sheet of white paper, \\hich she had saved tor a ^reat occasion, and tied it with a white ribbon, a relic of her girlhood. Then the precious burden was confided to the un willing care of the twins, and she watched them until they were out ot si^lu. It was a chilly afternoon, and there was enough heat left in the cake to strike through the paper, alon^ with a heavenly smell that made them both snitt with lon^ in^. They crunched the fallen leaves \\ith their wooden shoes; the innocent cake be- JOSSELIN 219 came a veritable instrument of torture. They had just reached a musty outhouse, the temporary shelter of stray fowls and pigs, when, as if moved by one impulse, they sat down on the deserted door-step, with the cake on their knees. The rich perfume was so penetrating that they rubbed their noses sev eral times up and down the paper, which, if agreeable and warming, was unsatisfactory. There was a neat white bo\v on top, on which Aunt Josselin had expended a world of thought. To give a tug at this bow, leaving the imprint of a grimy forefinger, was the work of one reckless second, and before they realized the: enormity of the crime the paper flew open, and before their enchanted vision lay the cake. It was with great difficult} , which necessitated the outlining of the fat letters with their black forefingers, that they spelled out the inscription. More than indignant, they were hurt. That a constant birching of their own tender per sons should result in such a reward was not what they had expected from Great-aunt Jos selin. Their eyes and fingers went on a vain tour of discovery over the cake to see if any culinary accident had resulted in a kind of 220 KITWYK STOKIKS wart which could lie removed without suspi cion. I heir disappointed eyes reconnoitered the inscription. I low much su^ar had been wasted on those lat letters, "To Our Faithful Teacher " ! " I ( >, they tiually decided, was quite un- necessary, and it they were to pick it oil no one would lie any the wiser. So " Io" dis- appeared, and the twins licked their chops and meditated. I he result was that "I aith- lul I eacher " \\ as decided to he hilly as con vincing as "Our kaithtul I eacher." "Our" disappeared. They contemplated the vacant space, and sucked their lingers, and agreed that " Faithful " was superfluous ; lor it "Teacher "was left, the " Faithful" could be readily understood: besides, the pirate did n t deserve it. So they picked oil the " kaithtul"; 1ml \vhen they stood lace to lace with the lollely " I eacher," It looked so lopsided and forlorn, on one side ol the take, that a tern Me leal sel/ed them. Il llll^ht lie better to eat oil the leather," and to consider the cake as a rich but unornamented dish. And this they did, but with misgiving s. In the mean time the white paper had been scuffled about under their feet. I hey picked JOSSKLIX 221 it up, and wrapped it about the cake as well as they could, and tied the dirty ribbon in a hard knot. Then they hoped for the best, what with the day s growing dim, the pirate s eyesight failing, and the joyful (-motions pre sumably active in his bosom because of the day. The; pirate had made; mighty preparations as the\ crept meekly in. A smell of coffee issued from the bedroom, the, door of which was garlanded with evergreen, as it the; pirate, whose work it was, was very glael that he; had been born. In the other room a table was pre-pareel for gifts, to which the twins added the; cake, but placeel it modestly in the back- ground. Then the; pirate appeared, looking so smiling and benevolent that they were filled with remorse, which was further in- creaseel as he Pfenerouslv helped, the eisdit o J L o geographical sufferers to the most delicious coffee; and cre;am, slabs of raisin-bread, and apple-jam, thick anel gold-brown. The twins baske;el in his smiles; the evil day seemed far off. " Now," tin; pirate; said at last " no\v I will sec what your honored pare:nts have so unexpectedly bestowed on me . It is not so much the- gift as the; spirit." 222 KITYVYK STOK1KS The twins were in turn summoned out ot ;i dark corner, when- they had taken refuse un der the pirate s clarinet, when the fatal cake was reached. 1 he unsuspecting pirate in vited them to approach, and they could have howled with remorse as he patted their heads. Twilight was tailing, and his eyesight had been sharper, but lie was evidently stai^ered by the eccentric appearance ot the offering, lie couched, raised his eyebrows, hut, admit tiiiL; that it was not the without but the within, attacked the ribbon with renewed confidence. Then the pirate tell hack as it" he had been shot, until, as it doubting his own eyesight, he planted his spectacles more firmly on the end ot his nose, and took one lon^\ comprehensive look: a surface plowed through by grooves to which still clun^" ra^ cd bits of su^ar, the whole proclaiming the sentiment " I< ( )ur I aithful I eacher," not by what was there, but by what was not. I hen it was that the benevolence faded out of the pirate s horn spectacles as he lowered them upon the culprits, and then it was that their innocent confidence in human benevo lence was indefinitely shattered. \\ ith a pro phetic instinct of woe they fled, pursued- JOSSKLIN 223 such was their bad conscience by a pirate of abnormal proportions, who attempted their destruction by hurling at them a gigantic cake on which the fatal inscription "To Our Faith ful Teacher " burned in letters of fire. [V AUNT JOSSKLIX sat at the window that af ternoon, and watched in vain for the twins. Twilight came, but not a sign of them. Sud denly the bell gave a spasmodic peal, and she opened the door. She stood transfixed, for she knew him at once ; but it was hard to reconstruct a young Duymar van Twist out of this limping old man, who carried in his arms a big crumpled package that looked strangely familiar. Her cheeks flushed as she stared first at him and then at his fatal burden. "My God, Josselin ! " and he sank on the wooden settle outside ; and though he had not thought of her for twenty-five years, he bowed his head over the ruined cake and sobbed. " I )uymar ! " But at the touch of her hand he leaped to 224 KITYVYK ST()RI!-:S his led. and the cake, whose destinv \\ as woe, tell between them with an awful thud; and without a word Duymar limped down the mill steps. I hen Aunt Josselin picked up the familiar package, and sank on the settle as she contemplated the wreck : and (here she sat and cried until "To ( >ur kaithtul 1 eacher" was < uithned in tears. As tor the two culprits, they emerged from the mill-cap, where they had taken refuse, and crept past Aunt [osselin s door, and saw her reading by the hidu ot a candle, and the sacred chest ol drawers was open, and it was flooded by a pile ol old, old love letters, the letters Duymar had sent back thirty-live years before. I i was the holy eve of St. Nicholas. 1 hen- was a threatening ol snow in the low December sky, and the wind cut like a lash as it swept over the Iroxen meadows. 1 he very ni-ht to croud about the tire and in whispers to tell blood-curdling tales, until through the moaning ol the wind could be heard a ediostly tread down the dim corridor -St. Nicholas himself, \\ith a deep, celestial voice (singularly familiar) and supernatural JOSSKLIN 225 information about the most trifling misdeeds. Then, children, for a good conscience ! Kitwyk was ready for St. Nicholas, and what scrubbing and polishing could do had been done, and early lights were beginning to twinkle in the windows. The wings of the windmill hung black and still, and in (ireat- aunt Josselin s room according to immemo rial custom the twins were imprisoned to keep them out of mischief. But for the first time in seven checkered years a blight had fallen on them, and they were so subdued that Aunt fosselin tried in vain to revive their drooping spirits with barley-candy, quite unconscious how the) clutched each other lor secret support whenever she opened her chest of drawers. It St. Nicholas knew every thing, as the twins never doubted, they had reason enough for forebodings. In the village all work had ceased, only out of Mynheer Veenix s shop there streamed the delicious aroma of baking, and customers still shuffled through the withered chestnut leaves, piled high to the door, to fetch the afternoon rusks; and so it happened that the pirate found himself standing behind the cook from the mill. 226 KIIAYYK STORIES 1 !(,- took his pared, ami trudged home, put the rusks on the table, ami stirred the peat lire. It was too early to h^ht the lamp, ami the tea-kettle was not yet boiling, so he took Ins clarinet ami piped up a lnt, though his heart was heavy, so old he fell and forsaken. Old and forsaken, and it was the eve ot St. Nicholas! \\ ith a ^roan he tiling the clarinet on the table, so that the rusks fell out of their stilt, meaner wrapping. 1 here he sat, ami stared before him. when slowly three words seemed to lift themselves out of the paper M\nheer Veenix had utili/ed in his com merce. 1 hey seemed to leap out of the yel low pa^ e, and to clutch at his heart: "My darling I )uymar "My ( iod ! and he grasped it, "what is this?" And the small yellow sheet was one of the old love-letters he had sent back to jos- selin, and his eyes were so dim with tears that it was lon^" before he could read. 15 y the last flicker of daylight he strained his eyes across the yellow pa^ e, and at last, with a sob, he buried his face against the words, as if they could make him forget life and its sorrows. JOSSELIN 227 Suddenly he remembered that the old let ter had been wrapped about his rusks. " My God, I must know ! " and he tore out of the house without hat or cane, and he never paused until he shot into the Kit\vyk shop, and there, he fell back, for, before the counter, with just such another sheet in her hand, stood Josselin. Paper, Mynheer Yeenix was explaining to her, was a rare and precious article which he purchased, when offered, at a penny a pound. " I hit these are my letters, and I must know where you ""ot them ! " and there was J o an excited flush on her old cheeks. " They were wrapped about my rusks." " May I see, Juffrouw van Geldern ? " But she waved him off, and her eyes filled with tears as she thought how all the rusks of Kitwyk had been wrapped in her old love- letters ; and just then the door burst open, and there stood Duymar with a letter in his hand which she had written him thirty-five years before. She recognized it at once ; and with a sense of grief and shame, as if the love and the letter were of yesterday, she sank on a keg of brown sugar and hid her face in her hands. 228 KITWYK STORIKS lie came straight toward her. " (ossclin, this letter --it was wrapped about my rusks did you care so little The look she ^ave him ! She would have been out of the shop it something oi the old and impetuous I hiymar van Twist had not returned, and he barred her way. " Mynheer \ eenix," he said sternly, "where did you i;et these letters?" Mynheer \ eenix s answer had the rin^ of conscious rectitude. " 1 he paper was sold to me by the twins. \\h<> reinvested the proceeds in barley-candy. I can hardly say that it was worth a [jenny a [osselin lied into the street, the fatal letter still in her hand. She had been lighter on her teet, and Duymar overtook her. " Josselin ! I le too had been younger, and he was out oi breath. The wind crackled the chestnut branches, and blew across his bare head, and he shiv ered. She stood still, the tears rolling down her old cheeks. " [osselin," and he stretched out his hand, " :/ive me that letter. It will comiort me JOSSELIN 229 when I am lonely, for then I shall remember that once you did love me, you dear, splendid woman." Great-aunt Josselin spoke very softly. "And do you still care, Duymar?" " I care? () Josselin! Give me the letter." "There is no need, Duymar. Why read in those old letters what you shall read in my life day by day, God willing?" The tears fell down her cheeks, though she smiled. " I must begin to take care of you, dear. Go home and fetch your coat and hat, and come to the mill. The; children arc; waiting, for to-night is St. Nicholas. You will not leave me? Then we must <_fo together." o> <:> AND so it was really St. Nicholas, modestly aided by the twins, who brought back her old lover to Great-aunt Josselin. As for the two culprits, she just took them in her arms and kissed their round, unworthy cheeks, and her eyes were; lull ot tears happy tears. O tender and faithful Josselin ! A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK BKYOXD the fields and meadows, ami the IOIIL;" lane ot melancholy, wind-swept pop lars, lay the peat-fields, dreary stretches ot stubbly ground, overgrown, where it was not cut, exposing the black, oo/y clay, by rank weeds and grasses and heath. I he monot onous dead level was broken only by low black mounds or ricks, peat piled to dry in the sun and air, that looked in the tailing twilight like a forgotten graveyard. A flock of crows flew heavily across the low, L^ ray sky, and the I<>HL; lane ot poplars that led to I en Brink swayed in unison to a rising bree/e. ( )n the other side the village lay huddled about the church, which lilted its ancient cross as if to exorcise the spirits ot the desolate fields; and in direct line ot the cross, and as it sinking under its displeasure, Stood a ruined cottage on the ed^ e of the plain, outcast from the habitations of men, 2J.J A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK 231 and in it dwelt two lonely spirits, and one was an old woman, and the other was her son. At twilight they trudged home, their backs bent under heavy loads, and the displeasure of the world was upon them. Once in the annals of Kitwyk a woman fell. There was not much to say for her except that she was faithful, for she never betrayed the name of the man. Kitwyk was terribly agi tated, for it felt itself too weak to cope with a foundling-. So a kind of lugubrious prenatal celebrity attached itself to the son of the woman, and such was the agitation of the town-council that the object of dispute was temporarily forgotten, so that Kitwyk was re joiced to hear that the woman had disap peared, and was just congratulating itself at this simple solution of its perplexities, when one day, toward sunset, she reappeared, her child in her arms, and there! was a light in her patient eyes stronger than the Burgo master, the town-council, and charity. Kitwyk resigned itself to the inevitable, though it reserved the- right to assign her an abiding-place, and, as a bad example and an immoral pauper, she was relegated to a hall- ruined cottage on the edge of the peat-field. 232 KITVYYK STOKIKS Toward evening the windows caught the glow of the sunset, but at night it lay for saken and dreary, with the littul flames ol the peat tire glowing through the cracked panes across the dull landscape. The woman sat by the hearth and rocked her baby on her breast, and when the baby gave a grip to her finger in his sleep, tor he was a mighty fel low, then she laid her cheek against the flaxen head and sobbed for joy, and quite for got that she was an outcast. I or a long time the baby was nameless. One Sunday she went to church. It was a summer morning, and the very peat-fields, with a sense of shame, had donned a little shabby green over the black earth. The wooden pews for respectable sinners had backs, some of the elect had cushions, Mevrouw van Loo had a toot stool, but for the despised there was reserved an ignomin ious bench in a dratty corner in direct hue of the pulpit, so that the Mominie could hurl his invectives at a proper and uncomplaining object. This morning the old I )ominie preached a discourse on I >a\ id and Goliath, and the de spised one on the bench folded her hands, and A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK 233 a rapt smile crept over her face, and it was still there as she scudded home. She had found a name at last, the only perplexity was which one David or Goliath? The boy gave promise of being a mighty man some day ; Goliath seemed a tit name, but then she remembered with a pang that the great Go liath had been slain by the little David. She lifted the door-latch in dire perplexity. At si<du of her he stretched out his arms. I lad O not the Dominie said that the young David was beautiful and ruddy, and that God had loved him and helped him to kill the giant ? "My David, my David," and she took him in her arms and cried over him, because she had given him the only thing she had to give a name; and so, having entered on his in heritance, David proceeded to grow to man s estate. n AND David s mother toiled early and late like the men, and for her child s sake she longed not to be despised. Hut one day an edict went forth from the town-council: Da vid, son of the unwedded Denys, must go to school, or he would prove a disgrace to Kitwyk. 234 KIT\VYK STORIKS \Yhen Denys closed the door on the mes senger of e\ il, she sank on the settle beside the hearth. I hen, out of the corner in which he had hidden when his doom was pronounced, lie crept and buried his curly head in his mo ther s lap, and tor the first time in her lite she was unmindful of him in this new and in eat trouble. " Xow he will learn to despise me," she thought. " ( iod have mercy! Xot till years after did she reali/e that (iod had answered her prayer. 1 le never learned to despise her; for, though his youn^ body was strong, there was that lacking in his poor mind \vhichwould make him comprehend that his mother was an outcast and that he had no name. And so the years passed on. One ni^ht the two sat before the peat lire, she binding brooms, he staring intently at the flames. The snow was falling, and blew in trusts against the windows, through which the fire -li^ ht stru^ ided and lay in lurid patches across the snow. Suddenly he looked up from the flames. "Mother." he said, "would you be happier if your name- were written in the church register ? " A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK 235 Her hands fell in her lap, and she stared at him and held her breath. " You would be happier, would you not, mother ? " he persisted. With a cry she hid her face from her son. "You do not understand, David; you do not understand." "If all good women s names are written in the church register, why is not yours ? " "David, David!" She dragged herself to him and hid her poor face on his knee, and he smoothed her hair with his rough hand and sank into si lence ; and the storm shook the frail house, and a cry went up from the world as il souls in anguish were lashed across space by the bitter winter gale. in Hi; was still a child to Denys when he was in reality a big, awkward man, his broad back bent by toil, and with a shuffling gait and long, strong arms. lie had a slo\v mind and only one idea, but that bore him company as he dug peat, it followed him along tin; canal towing the canal-boats, it made: him forget cold, hunger, and weariness. Sometimes he 23 ) KITWYK STOKIKS sat for hours brooding. ( )nce l>y that time the idea seemed \-ery familiar he laughed out loud, tint lirst time since he was a child. "David, I )avid, my son! and his mother grasped Ins shoulder, and she was white and trembling. " ( )1 what are you afraid, mother?" She sank on a stool and hid her face, and he looked at her in dismay. For a moment he wanted to comfort her and tell her about his idea, but betore he could put it into slow words she had gone about her work. Tin; time came when the pent-up wrath of the town-council broke iorth. That a person, so to speak, of light character should be per mitted to breathe the air of kitwyk, and never be punished for her sin, presented itself with renewed vigor. I he cottage on the peat field was acknowledged to be a blot on the immaculate landscape. ( )ne day the woman I )enys was called before the worshipful town- council. 1 he door was timidly opened, and she stood on the threshold. She wiped her face on her old blue apron as an act of humil ity, for the sight that met her eyes was very impressive. Seven awful gentlemen with red A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK 237 faces sat about a green baize table, and, as if with one accord, they stared at her. She knew each one individually, had often sold them brooms without quailing, but collec tively they were very terrible. And, suddenly, as she stood before them, her back bent and her face seamed by wrinkles, a consciousness of her old sin, which was not always in her thoughts, came to her, and her eyes, looking restlessly about, fell before theirs. She wiped her hands on her apron, and shuffled about in her wooden shoes. It was Mynheer van Steen who, in the cause of virtue, broke the news to her the house on the peat-field was to be torn down. She did not seem to comprehend, for she glanced hesitatingly from one to the other, o > J lingering a moment longer on the big, dull face of the Burgomaster it was old Lucas van der Yelde, who was staring with unwink ing intcntness through the diamond-shaped panes at the town-pump. With an unreasonableness characteristic of her, she said nothing; so it was further an nounced to her that, as there was no other place for her in Kitwyk, she must go. There was an asylum for old women in Sippken 238 KITWYK STOKIKS open to her, while I )avicl, her son, being an able-bodied man, could earn his living on any fishing-smack. \Vhat \vouKl become of I )a\id if she. should die? and supposing 1 hivid were to die ? I or the first time the unreasonable creature broke the silence-. She began to moan, and so distracted the town-council that she was graciously permitted to withdraw ; and Kit- wyk felt that it had been a champion of morality. \\hen 1 )avid came home that night there was no light in the cottage window, nor on the- hearth as he raised the latch and stum bled against something". It was his mother. lie 1 raised her in his strong arms, and stroked her hands, and called her softly ; and at last she opened her eyes, and, at the rare smile in his dull fact , she drew him toward her as if he were a child again. "\\ait, mother," and he stroked her cheek; "you shall be happy yet, I promise you I, I )avid, your son." And, straightening his bent back with a new air of importance, he shuttled out of the house. A TRAGEDY OF K1TWYK 239 IV Ax hour after, two men struggled and scuffled down the forsaken road. One had his hands tied behind his back, a bandana handkerchief gagged his mouth, and his cocked hat was jammed over his eyes and David, the son of the woman, held him in a grip of steel. " \Yrite her name in the book, said I. She is n t married, say you. Why, if that s all to make her happy, she shall have the richest and greatest husband in all Kitwyk and that s you ! " and David dragged his victim after. A dense mist rose from the black marsh, and the light from the cottage fell on it in long, dull rays. David threw open the door, and with a deft turn of his right arm flung the outraged Burgomaster to the feet of the old woman, and there he lay, an inert, groan ing mass ; and then David laughed for the second time in his life. " If you must have: a husband, here is one," he shouted in triumph. " I said I would make you happy." " David -- David, my son, what have you done ? " 240 KITWYK STOKIKS \\ ith trembling h;inds the woman helped the chief magistrate of Kit\vyk to rise, and so, alter twenty-live years, her hand touched his a^ ain. I le shrank hack from her. " \ on shall pay tor this, and so shall that brute, your son! and his eyes glared like a wild beast s, and the veins on his forehead stood out like whip-cords. I here was a sud den silence, and then his shifty, scowling i^a/e met hers. Xot a word was said, but a ediastly terror tilled his eyes. lie looked a moment, with a kind ot horrified scrutiny, at the face ot I )avid, who stared at him witli a vacant smile ; and then he stai^ered out ot the house, and I hivid s mother stood in her place like an linage of stone. "Mother," said I )a\ id, "he would have made a ^ood husband. I told him he was wanted, and lie came willingly enough until he knew where. Then I tied his hands, for fear of losing him." \\hen I )enys at last roused herself she was alone. KirwvK depended tor its measurements of time on neither clocks nor sun-dials, but on old Kobus, the ni: ij ht- watchman, who in turn A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK 241 depended on the rooster of Jonkheer van Loo. This methodical fowl was one of a breed that crowed at five o clock every morn ing, and for thirty years a Van Loo rooster had roused old Kobus stumping- along and calling the hours in a nasal sing-song, a good, solid blast on his horn being forbidden except in case of dire necessity the last occurring three hundred years before, when a ghostly posse of Spanish troopers clattered over the cobblestones toward the castle of Count Egmont. Never yet had a Van Loo rooster crowed at any other time but as Kobus in his nightly perambulations reached the outskirts of Kit- wyk, where lay the peat-fields under a black sky shot with gray at the sullen breaking of dawn. The; blameless burghers of Kitwyk slept, and Kobus stumped along like a gigan tic cabbage under his nine capes, dozing gently, such was his skill, and his lantern whacking his shins. A black night, with a rising breeze that lashed the ragged poplars leading to Ten Brink. Suddenly, in the mid night silence;, acock crowed an inexperienced young fowl who mistook a glare for daybreak. It was a mistaken, melancholy note, but it 242 KITWVK STOKIKS pierced through Kolms s methodical dreams and \vokc him to the one chance of his lite. I lis lantern dropped with a crash, his knees wobbled, and the blast he blew was but a fee ble one to rouse the old echoes asleep since that ancient Spanish raid. " I ire ! I ire ! " and he stumbled across the market-place and thumped frantically against the Burgomaster s front door, and Kitwyk leaped out ot bed, as his Honor, with his cocked hat crowning his ni^ht-cap, he still had so much presence ot mind, tore open the window. All Kitwyk shrieked tor infor mation, and that ni^ht were displayed many strange fashions in ni^ht-caps. I i om the distant peat-fields the forked flames and the rolling smoke swirled and whirled a blood-red path to the sky, and in the midst ot the flames stood one ungainly figure, its fantastic shadow flun^ across the stubble and the ricks as the wind caught the bla/.e. Huh! but old parchment and book-covers burn gloriously! Armed with a lon^" pole, I )a\ id, the son ot the unwedded I )enys, with a hmi^e of his hu^ e shoulder, L^ave a shove to such venerable volumes as declined to burn. A TRAGEDY OF KITWVK 243 When they burst into flame, three hundred years of old church registers, he roared with joy. Now there was no woman in Kitwyk better than his mother! And he hugged him self as he thought of her great joy. "Mother! Mother!" She was already flying across the stubbly lields, her gray hair lashing her face. " See, mother, the church books in which they would not put your name ! " She flung herself on her knees and tore at the blazing pile. He stood staring stupidly at her, his mouth open. "My God! My God!" She fell back, beaten by the flames and smoke. Suddenly out ol the night the church bells rang a wild alarm, and down the highway there sounded the hurry and clatter and tramping of feet. Armed with blunderbusses, pitchforks, and rusty swords, the crowd bore down on them, in their midst the Burgomas ter, his dressing-gown flapping about his legs, and his face, under his night-cap and cocked hat, ghastly white. As one stricken to the soul, I)enys cowered before him, her singed hair hanging about her face, her burned hands huddled in the rags oi her dress. " lie loves 244 KITWYK STOR1KS me," slu,- murmured, " ami he does not under stand." Then she looked straight into the sullen eyes of the Burgomaster of Kitwyk : " Have mercy, lor he had no lather," and at these words his 1 lonor breathed aain. So there was, for the first time in the mem ory oi its oldest inhabitant, a criminal in Kit wyk, and the problem was what to do \\ith him, as the dungeons under the town-hall had, since time immemorial, been devoted to storing winter potatoes and municipal oil-cans. 1 or the present the wretched culprit was im mured in the sacrist\- which he had robbed, in company with the charred remains oi the stolen records. Kitwyk, having regained its mental balance, acknowledged that his arrest was a terrible blunder, lor to support a crimi nal in idleness lor the greater part ot his career was felt to be a dram on the public treasury. I he town-council yearned enthusiastically to have him escape;, and they <rnve him every opportunity; but, with an unreasonableness probably inherited from his mother, he de clined. I here beillLJ nothing < lse to do, I );i- A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK 245 vid was summoned before the town-council to hear his doom, to which he listened with a vacant smile. Because of his </reat crime, and because of o } the parental benevolence of the town-council, he was to be bound out as a sailor, on the merchantman Hesperus, to sail for Java in a week. David received his sentence still smiling" vacantly, indifferent even to the further benevolence of Kitwyk when it was added that he might now go home to his mother to help her cut peat for the winter, as there was no knowing when he would come back. So the one criminal of Kitwyk shuffled home;, and when his old mother heard his doom she sank on a bench in a terrible tremble that never left her from that day forth, and the hand of God was indeed heavy upon them. Autumn passed, and winter came: with snow and ice and storm, and the stubble of the fields lay in fro/en ridges, and the: wind swept across the plains. Kvery evening, after twilight, an old bent woman crept down the forsaken road, peering about in wistful search of one who would 246 KITWYK STORIKS never conic a^ain, tor divine justice was with Kitwyk, and the burden was at last lilted from its municipal shoulders. After many months a message had reached the town-council that I )avid. son ot the nnwedded I )enys, had been drowned ott the coast ot Java in a sudden squall. (iod s will lie done!" anel the Burgomaster blew a blast on his bandana handkerchief, and a ^reat relict was visible on his features, tor lie was nothing it not patriotic. "Ami now inform the woman." It was evening and bitter cold, and the winds blowing across the fields cut like lashes, as an indignant messenger of sorrow, armed with a lantern, shouldered his way across the stubble and thumped against the door, and stood blowing hi.-, tinkers, waiting. As no one came, he kicked it open. "What do you mean by letting me wait? ( id up! I Ye something to tell you." Puit the unwedded I )enys. on whom the hand of ( iod had lain so heavily, did not stir, for she was dead, and her dead cheek rested on tlie peat her I )avid had cut and piled on the hearth, on which no tire had burned tor weeks; tor. beiiv " nothing it not unreasonable. A TRAGEDY OF KITWYK 247 she could not destroy the last thing- his poor faithful hands had touched, and so, rather, she had died of hunger and cold, and her face o was still wet with tears, and her hand lay on her heart as if that had been broken. A ROMAXCK OF KITXVVK ITS hero was only Jan Osterhoupt, the cob bler. 1 le lived where the road st rabies into the poplar lane of Ten Brink, and as he also made the wooden shoes in which Kitwyk clattered about, there was always a rait of voting ones pressing their noses against the din^y panes and clamoring lor the chips and shavings that littered the hobbly clay floor. Doubled up over the cobbler s bench sat jantjc, his sister, patch in^" old boots. She was a little hump-backed creature, with eyes like patient stars. ( )nly when Saskia lingered in the door way would they pause in their work; and it there was no answering liidit in her moody eyes, it was but |iist. tor (an Osterhoupt, her lather, had done her a LM eat wron^- in lite he had married her mother. ^ on see, once, when he was youn^ . he de parted tmm the ways ot his lather, who had A ROMANCE OF KITWYK 249 been the cobbler of Kitwyk for fifty years, and went into the wide world to seek his fortune. Destiny took him to l ; rance as a humble gardener of kitchen fruits, and as such the great Revolution overtook him as he fastened a branch of yello\v apricots to the wall of an old chateau whose glory had long departed. There was a Yicomte de la Telliere, a harmless, lonely man, who was studying a butterfly s wing- through a micro scope when the Revolution stormed up the rickety stairs, and he was arrested. Mile, de la Telliere, his daughter, lay senseless across the threshold. Because a spring of the old state coach a moth-eaten scarlet-and-gold structure, and the only vehicle in the village was broken, the prisoners were left in the chateau over night, guarded by a raft of dirty patriots, among whom was a worth) young man who the day before had fastened the apricots to the garden wall, and who swore he could be trusted. Then* was the last of some; note worthy wine in the cellar of La Telliere, and it is possible that in their ardor the children of the Republic drank too often to the tri umph of liberty. At all events, the next 250 KITWYK STOKIKS morning, when the chariot lumbered up from the- smith}-, M. le Vicomte and his daughter, and the youn^- man they had so trusted, had basely disappeared. Then it was that patriotism rose to a sub lime height, and ottered a thousand francs reward tor the arrest ot one (an ( )sterhoupt, accused of aiding in the escape of two dan gerous enemies of the Republic. M. le \ i- comte s estate \\ as confiscated, and the old house pillaged and set on tire. (jaily it burned, and the next day nothing was left but the blackened walls and a scorched willow-tree that knocked softly against the broken panes. ( )n the crum bling i^arden wall the apricots still hun^, yellow as LM ld. ( iod alone knows the story of that at tempted flight, but it is certain that M. le \icomtc never reached the friendly shelter where he \\ as to meet (an < ) st erh< Hi] it and his daughter. Probably he was reco^ni/ed and guillotined without ceremony a com mon occurrence; and so there wandered into the world two outcasts a dull, frightened L^ii l, with not the brightest of wits after that ni^ ht, and a man whose only worldly posses- A ROMANCE OF K1TWYK 251 sion was the price set on his head. And Jan Osterhoupt, being destined for great honor, one day married the daughter of M. le Vi- comte ; and Kitwyk might never have known how, having gone in search of a fortune, he had found it, if, years afterward, a shabby, sorrowful man had not shuffled his way through the fallen leaves of Ten Brink with a bundle in his arms. He paused at the cobbler s shop, his hand on the rusty latch ; then he lifted it slowly, and the sunlight straggled past him and rested on two bent figures within, older, sadder, and poorer. " Father," the man at the door faltered, and the cobbler looked up, dazed. "Jan fan! have you come back again? and where is your fortune?" and old Adam s joints creaked as he stumbled to his feet and peered at the. wanderer. And Jan Osterhoupt, having seem the world and brought home his fortune in an old shawl, turned away and sobbed. HALF an hour afterward Adam Oster- houpt s bow legs were already planted on the sanded floor of \Yilliam the Silent, and he had piped out his news. I lis best coat 252 KITWYK STORIKS was tiling over his dirty apron, and he \vas out ot breath with runnmL;". I he Dur^ omas- ter was blistering his noble back at the tap room tire; he roared at the ancient man: "Close- the door, you old tool \\ell, now, what about your son fan?" In all his shabby lite old Adam had vainly pined tor consideration, perhaps because he contributed nothing to society but a bad smell ot leather. Now was his chance. " |an s home with a fortune I said he d be!- he s married a countess, and here he sobbed because ot his L^reat joy and pride " and they Ye, set a price on his head. Kitwyk was aghast with apprehension. It this was not madness it was anarchy. I here was a scuttle backward; only the pirate, smoking a pipe in the chimney-corner, was unmoved but he was reckless by trade, one mi^ ht say. In its dire perplexity, Kitwyk turned to him as the only jud^ e ot romance, and he nodded. I he world was a (jlieer place as an ex-pirate, he ou!_dit to know; so Kitwyk emerged, and the Hur^ omaster, barricaded behind a hi^h-backed chair, asked, " \\ here IS the countess ? " I lere the weakness ot Adam s case be- traved itselt. A ROMANCE OF KITWYK 253 " She is dead," and he was conscious that his one chance in life was vanishing. In his despair, he ventured a little nearer to the great man. " But if you please, your Wor ship, there is a countess, only it s a very little one." Now Kitwyk was not only human, but it was curious ; and so at last his wildest dream was fulfilled : he sat in the Burgomaster s chair, and he might have drowned himself in hot grog free of expense. "To think," he sobbed in his pride, "that I should have a son whose head is worth a thousand francs ! " and Kitwyk assented. " Blexem ! " cried the Burgomaster, " such an illustrious citizen shall be properly wel comed ! " and he clapped on his cocked hat, and, with his gold-headed cane under one arm and Adam under the other, he led the way, and Kitwyk straggled after. The sun was just setting, and the wind knocked the linden twigs softly against the little window. The; door was open for the last flicker of twilight, and at the cobbler s bench, straining his eyes, sat a sorrowful man with a crook in his back, as if he had sat there forever. By the fire, in Jantje s 254 KITWYK STORIKS arms, a baby stru^led a little: red head out of a raided shawl, and wailed at si^ ht of tin: Burgomaster and that was the countess. 1 lis \\ orship took in the scene in one com prehensive idare, and dropped Adam s arm. Jan ( )sterh<nipt rose humbly, his head on his breast the head worth a thousand francs. 1 he Burgomaster stared at him from head to toot ; he. was inspired. " A countess marry you ! a price set on that! Indeed, Jan Osterhoupt s head was A sob broke the awhil stillness; but it was only old Adam who sobbed, because he had lost his last claim to consideration ; and he stood in the doorway in a da/e, while: the properly outraged magistracy of Kitwyk dis appeared down the poplar lane. But from that day he was a changed man. I Ie refused to work, and, instead, he haunted the tap-room of \\ illiam the Silent, and looked with sullen resentment at his son fan, who pe^ed away at the boots of Kitwyk as if no noble lady had ever checkered his ca reer. But one comfort old Adam had when he died: he left his resentment, his onlv A ROMANCE OF KITWYK 255 legacy, to Jan s girl, Saskia, and her soul was full of bitterness against her father. Once only, in the pain of his heart, did Jan Osterhoupt venture to boast. He was not quite without honor, he said wistfully. There was a price set on his head. Only give him up in France, and there was a fortune waiting. And Saskia, crouched in the firelight, looked suddenly up at her father and held her breath. "You!" and her young voice cut like a whip-lash, and she laughed. The whir of Jantje s spinning-wheel fell across the rising wind, and the patch on the noble shoe of Mevrouw van Loo, in Jan s lap, was blurred with tears. The linden tree knocked with ghostly branches against the lattice, and Saskia dreamed, watching the flames. ii Ix the splendor of the summer noon a devil- may-care, shabby young wanderer strolled down the highway singing, a knapsack on his back, a stick in his hand. He looked about him with keen, curious eyes, and once he shook his head at the level landscape, stretched himself with heart) good will, and 256 KITWYK STORIKS yawned. I he ripening fields swaying softly in the light breeze, the windmills swinging their black sails lazily, the cows chewing their eternal cud, were beginning to pall. " ( )h, tor a breath of Spain! " he cried, and, being a lucky fellow, just then he came to a break in a yellow wheat- field by the roadside, and there, amid the ripe grain, the poppies and corn-flowers, lay a young maid last asleep in the drowsy peace ot high noon, the locusts humming noisily, and her scythe at her side. " 1 he gods love the heedless," he cried in sheer amazement and gratitude. " Some day I will paint her thus, and I shall be famous. \\ as there ever such glorious hair! Now, should she waken, will her eyes be two dark stars, or will a Hutch cow look lazily at me? Shall 1 let her sleep? Or what is a kiss? A Ldmt ot the sun on a summer s day. Med dling bee! 1 hiet ! I hose are my roses! Child child--! but saved you trom the bee!" With a cry she pushed him away, and stum bling to her teet, she took to thght among the tangled wheat. " \ ou beautiful child, forgive me," he called after her in lii/lit remorse-. A ROMANCE OF KITWYK 257 She paused, as it touched by a spell, and looked back. Between them was the yellow strain and the down-trodden path. " Most beautiful ot maids, are you dumb?" he cried across the swaying wheat. There was flight in the poise of her lithe young body, but she lingered, and a smile be gan to quiver on the edge of a frown. It was not with an apple that the serpent tempted Kve ! I le came nearer. I le was young and good to look at; he did not understand repulse. The frown had quite fled, and a sudden smile touched hen* eyes, her mouth, and the dimple in her round chin. " Am I really beautiful ? " Her lips were parted in frank vanity, and he felt that the nearest ditch, the stagnant mirror of the passing clouds, would have an swered the purpose as well as he. " You know you are." "No!" " 1 )o you speak the truth ? " he asked curiously. "Yes." " XVell, then, my child, you are the most beautiful young maid 1 ever saw. Does that satisfv you ? " KITYVYK STORIKS Xever to have known that she was so heau- titul ! In her passionate sorrow tor herselt she forgot his existence. " \\ ait wait!" he pleaded. "Shall I never see \ i in a^ aill J . She lookcil hark and laughed. "At least conic hack and I will tell \oiir fortune. I am a magician." I he locusts chirped and the \\nul swayed the yellow \\heat. A har^e \\ ith a dull red sail glided slowly hetweell the stunted Willows alon^" the canal. I he wind s ot tlv Kitw\k null turned slowly. She stretched out her hand across the bend in^ \\heat. her eyes dilated with ignorant awe. It was a peasant s hand, hard worked and roiivdi. It sobered him. " M uch h >\ e shall he \ ours," he h slen< er lingers looked so white against rotiL; i palm, the Mood rushed to her ili >\\ n 1 H -nt face. " I hat means ih^ ht. and he touched a line; " that, a i^ reat city : this, youth that passes on the wind s of a fevered fancy, |oy like the troth ot wine. a short lite like a dream, and then " he paused and looked into her in A ROMANCE OF KITWYK 259 tent eyes, and he forgot her peasant hands " death." She snatched her hand roughly out of his --rasp. "That s not a fortune, much you know!" " Child, child, at least I can prophesy of the past, my kiss was the first." Down the dusty road there plodded an old woman whose back was bent under a heavy load. The girl saw her. " I must go," she said hurriedly. " Tell me your name ? " " Saskia." "Shall I never see you again?" he re peated in foolish entreat} . " \\ no knows? in the great city per haps." She. laughed and went down the road swinging her scythe 1 , and hi; watched her until she was lost among the poplars of Ten Brink. The old woman trudged past him ; she was poor and crippled, and her eyes were very patient. Neither heeded the other. 1 le awoke as Irom a day-dream, gave a vicious cut to a scarlet poppy bending across his path, and went on his way; but he sang no more, and the next passer-by crushed under foot the poppy s broken scarlet petals. Till: spring twilight lay on the peat-field. I he solitary cottage on the ed^ e caught tin- last -low ol sunlight on its window-panes. Here m righteous exile lived the one woman (>t Kitwyk \\ ho had sinned, and at ni-htiall the peat-held, the cotta-e, and the woman were avoided as bem- singularly accursed. So alter sunset, when her child slept, she was alone in the world \\ith her thoughts, while her lingers bound brooms ol willow twin s, and the wind swept up from the dikes am rustled the scanty LHMSS on the field, beyond which, far from her unworthy neighborhood, lay Kitwyk huddled about the little old church. I )own the lonely road came two figures a hump-backed woman and an old man who earned a bundle across his shoulder. In the silence (it the sprin- twili-dit, the woman rock- in- her child heard the distant footfall and looked wistfully alter them, tor Jantje was weepm- bitterly. I he way led out ol the village into the wide world. At the turn ol the road they held each other s hand, am Iant]e covered her lace with her apron. "M\ -0(id [ant]e, see, It Is but to Cl OSS to A ROMANCE OF KITWYK 261 France and ask my \vay to the old village. It is only right that I should go; and, Jantje, the child shall be happy yet," and he gently stroked her hand. " How well I remember! the; town-hall stands on the market-place, and before it there is a French king in bronze. I shall go up to the council-cham ber and I shall say, Here am I, Jan Oster- houpt, upon whose head you set a price. I claim the reward. They 11 not care who gets it, having me. Then for I have thought it all out 1 will ask for some good priest, and he shall send the money to Saskia, and she will be rich. When, in the years to come;, she; is happy, Jantje, then tell her no, never tell her." He loosened her hand gently and looked once more toward Kitwyk melting into twi light, with here; and there a lamp beginning to twinkle, shouldered his bundle, and walked resolutely on. Then Jantje came to herself. "Jan! Jan! Come back, Jan!" and she; stumbled after him. But he was beyond her reach, and she stood among the lonely fields, as one lost, till there crept out of the cottage; a pe>or outcast woman, who took he;r in hen" arms, and she laiel her he;ad on the- brc-ast lni: stork s nest on the Burgomaster s house was a scene ot Limitation. kather stork, on one ]e-, craneel his neck over the very ediM- ot the ^alile, and described \\ hat he sa\v to mother stork, who \vas minding her o\\n business. \\liat a power ot kin LMia^e he had ! I ler matron y bosom swelled with pride. \\hat he saw first was the llur !_M>mast< r s do^ Pokier nipping such calves as attracted him; then came I oby van Loo, leaping into the air and harking like mad,; then a screaming flock of meese that had keen roped into tile procession as they were innocently prointtnadinm the highway. And at la-^t (Mine the \\ i/ard and the princess at least, Kitwyk said he must lie a \\ i/ard, and lather stork said she miisi lie a rincess, s( was so lea 1 he princess rode the old horse that drew the hi inhering ^reen wa^ ni, and the wi/.aril stalked on In-forr. kitwyk was impressed liy the u l/ai d s cap, \\lnch was tall and square, and covered with weird characters. As for the rincess, there had never keen A KOMANCK OF KITWVK 263 seen such big black e-ye:s and such a little: red mouth, and when she threw kisses right and leit Kitwyk was not unmoved. " She is the most beautiful creature in the world ! " lather stork cried in ecstasy. " She: must be a princess." "Don t be a fool." mother stork snapped; " she s a play actress, that s all the painted hussy ! " 1 lere his 1 lonor, the. Burgomaster, flung open the window below. " What an internal clatter those; storks make ! " The green wagon had been drawn to one- side oi the market-place, out ol the-, sacred neighborhood of the church and the: yellow parsonage behind the- linden hedge. The: old horse- was unharnessed, and some benevolent busybody had brought him a bun dle of young grass, which he was grate-hilly munching. "What are tlu-\ doing now?" asked mother stork. " She s singing a song," and lather stork closed his eyes with a fatuous expression. "On the market-place:? A nice princess! Mother stork knew the ways ol the world. 2f-4 KITWYK STOKIKS " Hut such a sonv; and you know m not much L^ iven to music." I .ven kitwyk acknowledged the spell, which was broken onl\ by the ui/ard s ^oin^ about with a plate, \\hile the princess strummed an old guitar, her beautitul black eyes hungrily intent on the pennies. 1 he spring sun shone cruelly on her tarnished tinsel, the patched, spangled petticoat, and the red in her hollow cheeks. 1 he wizard came back with an u^K 1( x >k in his eyes. " I )ance it out ot Vm it you can t sm^ it, wench tor the harvest had been small. I he woman shrank back as it from a blow. A LMi l elbowed her way through the crowd. She was a lithe youn^ tiling in a patched blue ^own, a bue kerchief over her hair. She stood breathless, watching the \\oman \\ho danced. 1 he wizard noticed her as he thrummed the guitar strings she was a handsome ^ irl. I he dancer came down on the point ot her toes in a whirl ot dirty silk and dull spangles, the brass chains about her thin neck tinkled, the strings i^ave a final crash, am Saskia awoke from a day dream. kitwyk turned on Its wooden heels, but she still stood spell A ROMANCK OF KITWYK 265 bound, her reel lips parted with the quick beating of her heart. " Come back ! come; back ! " shouted the wizard, "and behold a wonder! Kitwyk hesitated, then clattered back open-mouthed, and gave a gasp when, with a sudden gesture ot his lean bnnvn hand, he snatched the blue: kerchief from Saskia s head, and, tossing it in the air, out flew three; milk-white doves, and about her tell a shower ot crocuses, yellow, purple, and white-. The elove;s flew away, and Kitwyk shivered deliciously and eelgetd farther off from Saskia, who still stood with folded hands, staring upward. It was popular opiniem that the; wi/arel was either in league with Saskia or the elevil. But Saskia was not in league with the; wi/ arel. Her soul was se> lull ot woneler and longing that she; elid not notice how Kitwyk clattered away and lett he-r standing quite alone; in the; market-place-. The; elove;s had fluttered elown ami were picking corn among the cobblestones, the- prince-ss was in the: cart taking off he;r elraggleel tmery, and the wizard sat on the cart steps counting the pennies. (hit ot the corner ot his eye. he watched Sas kia; then he looked up ami smiled. 1 or a moment her heart stopped beating; to lie noticed liy the dispenser ot happi ness ! Then the air seemed full ol a sudden tumult, and a passionate, imploring yoim^ voice cried her own voice heard as il in a dream " lake me with you 1 lake me with you ! And the wi/ard put his lean brown linger to his lips, looked stealthily about, and nodded softly. 1 II !; red -roo led houses ot La Tell ie re peeped rom amon^ the apple trees in lull blos som. 1 he hedges and trees were all ol a LM eeii mist, lor it \\ as springtime. An old man, rav^vd and toot-sore, hobbled alon^ the cobblestones, and a L^an^ (| l urchins clattered alter. In the market place a kirmess \\ as in lull su iiiL; ; garlands and banners were le^ tooned Irom house to house, and the statue ol the old I rench kinv;, leaning on his mighty two-handed s\\ord, looked grimly dou n at the turmoil belo\\ . ( )\ <-r all, Irom the old church steeple the tricolor floated in the spring bree/.e, and the air \\ as lull of the braying <>1 a brass band, the tootiiiLJ "I horns, the shrill A KOMAN CK OF KIT \VYIv 267 laughter and chatter of voices, the clatter of sabots, and the twang of a lonely fiddle, while through the narrow lanes surged the crowd, and on the fresh, clear air there floated the aroma oi kirmess apple-blossoms dashed with fresh-baked gingerbread. An old man stood on the; edge of the market-place in a daze, staring at the turmoil. He turned, quivering a joker struck him with a blown-out bladder. "Take your sour face away!"- and he was shoved aside but tor an iron railing he would have fallen. It was the railing of the town-hall ; the same old Justice; stood over the doorway, and held the same, old broken scales. He clung to the; iron chain; the tur moil made him diz/y--he who was on his road to death. In the corridor a gendarme took him roughly by the shoulder. " I his is no place tor beggars." " I am no beggar." " Your business, then ? " " 1 o sec; the; mayor." "Have you an appointment; 1 " " It is a matter ol life and death," and Jan Osterhoupt could hear the; terrible- beating of 268 KITWYK STORIES his own licarl. "I have come to deliver up a criminal to justice.." "An informer! and the man looked at him with undisguised contempt. " \\C11, then, I he door ol the council chamber closed behind them. "1 was not to 1 e disturbed! the mayor cried sharply. The table was littered with official papers. " \ on are disobeying orders/ " N our 1 bmor, this man is an informer. 1 he explanation was sufficient. I he mayor examined (an Osterhoupt with a cont< mptu ous scrutiny. "An informer/ Against whom?" I hen the old man raided his head proudly the hour of reparation had come at last. "Against myself," said (an ( )sterhoupt. A.\ icy \\ind swept up from the sea, and the houses ot kitwyk were closed against the bla^t; then was not even a do^ in the streets. In the castle of I en llrmk. (ulfrouw de Kock sat by the kitchen tire and tried to read the Ilible, but she looked up as the wind swept through the old banqueting hall, and said softly, " ( KM! have pit\ on all wanderers to ni dit " A ROMANCE OF KITWYK 269 Just then, down the stubble of the frozen road leading to Kitwyk there came a lonely wayfarer ; the wind beat against him, and the fine sno\v stung his face. He dragged him self along, as if he had come many a weary mile. For a moment he stood in the shelter ot the windmill, and took breath ; then he went on, but more leebly, as if with a dull fear at heart. His footfall echoed on the frozen cobblestones of the market-place, and Juftrouw Rozenboom, ever active, vainly pressed her sharp nose against the window and peered into the darkness. At last he readied the ghostly poplars of Ten Drink, swaying in the icy wind. He shuffled through the piled-up, decaying leaves. After man) months he; stood once more at his own threshold. Three times he took hold of the latch, but his courage failed him ; he sank on the step and hid his face in his hands and sobbed. In the window flickered a lamp; and, as the whir of the spinning-wheel fell across the wind, there came to Jantje, through the buzz of the wheel, a weak cry: "Jantje- [antje ! " " It is the wind," she murmured, but she KITWYK STOKIKS m trembled as she crept to the window to tri the lamp. 1 low often in lonely nights had she lain awake hearing (an s voice: in the \\nul as it swept up from the sea 1 - -And were he to come, and were he to ask, " \\ here is Saskia ? " I he tears tell do\\ r, her withered face. " Child, child, come back only come back ! and she wiped the dull panes so that she who had strayed mi^ht, it ( iod so willed, find her way back to the old home. I hen a^ am, through the rise and tall of the wind. " [antje Jantje and she had torn open the door, and there, on the steps, in the winter wind and the whirl of the snow, lay a man. " |ant)e fantje ! and his i^ray head was on her breast, and his lading m a/.e sought her patient eyes. "\\hen 1 told them why I had come, they only laughed at me, [antje ; they < Mily laughed at irie And, his old head bem^ worthless, and his last hope blighted, Jan ( )sterhoii])t died. And this was the romance ot Kitwvk. THK STORY OK LKSKKN HK world is such a small place! New York and Kitwyk to think they ever had anything in common ! Not that it was much, to be sure, for it was only old Lesken, who played the very last of the second vio lins in the orchestra of \\ allack s theater how man\ ages ago ! and who scratched away at his fiddle for dear life, only pausing when a string snapped melodrama is so wearing on fiddle-strings. Light chairs had old Lesken worn out in his corner, and the plush top of the orchestra railing had become old and shabby man) a time with the weight of his heavy hand, as he sat lost in thought, or shaking his head at the play, as much as to say : " You painted images, do you call this a play, this grief, this misfortune? Why, I could show you " So ran his thoughts as his head sunk for- \\.ini on his breast his old head, with its grizzled hair, and dun e\ es that looked at hction through a hn^ c pair ot silver spec tacles perched on the end ot a lon^ . thin nose. \\ho would have thought ot a romance in connection with old Lesken, as he sat there \\ith a look altout him as it he had e^one to lied m his clothes? lie was always div in^ into die depths ot a musty pocket tor a red cotton handkerchief, and then tor a little --mled paper parcel, out ot which he took a comforting pinch ot snntl. while the hero on the stae^e declared his undying" love tor the heroine, looking passionately over her head into the wind s. One niLdit od Lesken heard a son^. a simple melody, that made the man forget halt ,i century. 1 houedi the worn hand Mill held the lio\\. titty years had tied, and he was youn^ a^am. I housands of miles had dis appeared, and he stood once more Ix-fore his lathers house m kitwyk. I he market place \\ as flooded \\ith sunshine, tin- pump was de sertecl, and the ^rass \\a\ed lazily l>et\\ een the coM) e-stones. In die distance, the pop lars ot I en linnk swayed m the summer breeze. .\ cow strolled artfully aloiiLJ the THE STORY OF LKSKEN 273 canal bordered by the deep red clover-field of the. Kitwyk windmill, and Jan de Les- I)K I.KSKEX. ken and the cow represented the 1 , "lift;" of Kitwyk. Perhaps yonn^ I)e Lesken found the peace slightly oppressive, for he stamped 274 KITYVYK STOKIKS his loot and paced up and down in a way which was most improper. So thought his lather as, looking out of the window, he caught sivdu ot his son. Mynheer de Lesken \\ as tilled \\ ith righteous wrath, and leaning out, he cried : "\\hat are yon dom^ there at this time ot day, [an? \\hat will Mynheer van der \elde say, should he see you? ( 10 to the counting-room instantly! 1 hen the window closed with a phlegmatic deliberation th.it argued ill tor the culprit. Mynheer yan der \elde lived o\ er the way in a substantial dwelling of a butt color, with Dallied root, inntniH .rable windows, and a L^Teen trout door that boasted a brass knocker of da/zlin^ brilliancy, and the prnlc of Mis tress Hetty s heart. ( >ld 1 )e Lesken s remark was merely a chance shot; tor, though Myn heer van der \ elde really lay in ambiish be hind the muslin window-curtains, putting at his lon^ clay pip 1 , he \\-as engrossed m watch iiiv; the maid servants at the pump, and mak m^ mental notes of all such as loitered to gossip on the way. l>ut it M\nheer \ an der \elde \\ as thus seriously occupied, at least Mlstl e>s l>ett\ had leisure eiloll^ h to look at TIIK STORY OF LKSKK.X 275 Jan as he stood there, with the silver buttons of his coat and the buckles of his shoes glit tering in the: sunlight. There was a name less grace even in the black ribbon that tied his long brown hair. " All the other young Mynheers are so fat/ and Betty stole another glance across. However, Mynheer de Lesken was not born to be disobeyed, and at his words }an slowly disappeared into the house. For a moment the duster in Mistress Betty s little right hand stopped its godly work while she heaved a gentle si^h. and such was her un wonted al)sence of mind tliat she knocked down a very hideous, hut very sacred orna- mcnt. and, as she examined the injury done to tile ULdy little object, wondered what could tor a moment have disturbed the calm ot her placid life. ii MYMIKKK UK LKSKKN was a well to do man some said a rich man. Once there had been a Mevrouw. Yes, late had ruffled Mynheer s calm career with a wile. peace to her gentle, troubled soul 1 who had during her lite time been his con Maul worry, just as [an was now. " \ on Ye the son ot your mother! Myn heer would cry, in the climax of the battle^ with his heir. P>ut. perhaps, [an s greatest crime and, as he thought o( n, Mynheer came as near shuddering as a phlegmatic Hutch burgher can was that he pl.iyed the violin. lie tilled the house \\ith its lii^h, clear tones till Mynheer, in a lit ot ra^e, \\ith his tinkers m his outraged ears, strode up and down the room twice in succession, a circumstance THE STORY OF LESKKN 277 which had not happened even when Mevrouw died. Once before there had been such a scene : when Jan said that he wanted to be an artist a violinist. High words there had been between father and son. His son a musician his son! A beggar, a thief, an artist ! So Mynheer clas sified these professions. A beggarly fiddler, when there was an opening in the wholesale grocery business worthy ot a king! In bit terness of spirit the old merchant walked through his richly filled warehouses, and stood in stern contemplation of raisins and coffee; and grains and molasses. The divine art was represented in Kitwyk by Kobus, who held the position ol town trumpeter. Kobus had lett one ot his legs in the Seven Years War, and having, in this practical way, been cured ot roving, settled down by the canal, and represented the divine arts in Kitwyk. I le was the only artist Myn heer had ever seen ; and, good heavens ! his son wanted to become an artist! Mynheer de Lesken s house lay uncom promisingly on the street, with neither tree nor grass-plot to relieve its white exterior. main impressed you; there stooil the ureat ware-houses and the counting room, into whose; windows a couple ol apple trees nodded cheerily. I our clerks sat at the tall desk in the center ol the lar^e. hare room, while a smaller desk, in a state ot chaos, stood deserted m a corner. I he head clerk, old I Metrich, i^ lancin^ at it. shook his lone-, wooden head disapprovingly. Length was I Metrich s chiel characteristic, just as roundness was that ol the other three. Thirty five years had he liccn in Mynheer s employ, and il faithfulness is rewarded, I heirich was a can dulat e l< >r a en m n. Sud< enly then- came through the open window the passionate, pleading tones ol a violin, and I Helrieh, looking up \\ith a start and a Iroun, sa\\ Jan at his attic window, with his viol m tint er his chin, playing as it the \\orld could live without su^ ai" and mo lasses, and as it he, simple (an de Lesken, could conjure up another \\orld with fiddle and how. < Md l>ietrich scratched his head under his sand\ \\IL;. in much displeasure. Striding to the window, he called to the un- siisectm^ culrit : THK STORY OF LKSKEN 279 " Cornet down instantly, Mynheer, and fin ish your letter about the herrings ! " So Jan came back to the world and the herrings, and Jan s father, smoking a pipe in the family sitting-room, hearing all, glared at the portraits of his ancestors that lined the walls, as if bidding them bear testimony against such depravity. "Don t scold, old fellow ! " Jan cried, as he entered the counting-room. " Only let me play to you some day, and I 11 show you that something besides herrings and molasses can touch your Ilinty old heart," and he laid his hand on Dietrich s shoulder. " Mynheer Jan, you waste so much time," the other said half reprovingly, as Jan stooped to pick up his fallen pen. " Why, 1 call this wasting time," cried Jan, pointing \vith scorn at the fat ledgers. " Any body can do this; but not everybody can be an artist." in MYMIKKR DK LKSKF.N, waking from his nap late, one afternoon, was the victim of cross ness and gout combined. Mynheer s chair and the table at his side were planted on a KITXYYK STOKIKS little island ot carpet in tlic exact center <>t the spotless, waxed tloor. 1 rom this point ot observation his sharp ^ray eyes reconnoi- tered in search ol hidden dust and cobwebs. Suddenly Mynheer ran^ a little bell that stood on the table beside him, and as a red- cheeked maid softly opened the door, she found him furiously staring at the very ed^e ot the carpet belore him. " What do you call that, Cosette " J " Cosette examined the fatal mark, and, alter a thoughtful pause : " I should call it mud ; mud from the street, Mynheer." " I knew it, I knew it ! he cried m tri umph ; then, with a ^lare at Cosette, he ex claimed : " Send 1 )ietrich to me at once." "In my house mud, mud." he muttered as she lett the room. I Hetrich looked in \\ilh misgiving s, bein^ uncertain it he were called in as adviser or victim. Neither was Mynheer s opening ad dress re-assuring : " Come in and be - I )o y< HI think I like to sit in a draft . J I lave \ on wiped v<>ur THE STORY OF LESKEX 281 " Yes, Mynheer." * "Do you see that? I tell you this house will be turned into a pig-sty," he cried, point ing to the carpet. " Don t go near, don t step on the carpet," DIKTKICir KXAMINKS TIIK DISASTKK FROM A 1 USTAM K. he interrupted himsell, just as Dietrich was about to place an immense loot on the little island. So Dietrich took out a pair ot horn spec tacles and examined the disaster trom a dis tance. " Mini ! Mud brought in by my son |an " shouted Mynheer. " I tell you he is capable ot anything, a tellenv \\ho brings mud into his father s house. lint I 11 end it ! lie shall not till my house with mud and fiddles! ve mate up my mind lie must marry, and then he can LM > t< > the devi with his lid dies and mud and his wife into the bargain." "Mynheer |an marry?" said I )ietrich, du biously. I hen, in the character ot adviser, he took a hard chair, and sitting outside the charmed circle, repeated, doubtfully: " Mynheer |an marry . J " "Certainly! Me s old enough twenty- three;; don t you call that old enough , J 1 do. I hat s em >U!_di, 1 >asta ! \\heii Mynheer cried " Basta ! his word was law, and now only a special dispensation o| Providence could keep \oun^ (an simple. " Mxnheer. it Master |an must marry, it slloll d lie siime olle whom he Will like." StulV ! interrupted [an s father. "Not stuff. Mynheer; why make him un- haj)p\ It he must marry, let it be [utfrouw Hetty \,m del \ Vide, .she alone \\ill make him a suitable \\ite. and having L;I\ J II his advice* he planted his feet lirmK on the sacred carpet. THK STORY OF LKSKEX 283 " Iluni, lumi ! " murmured the: matchmaker, and fell into a brown study. J Who will declare that the good man had no imagination, when we say that there ap peared before him a pleasant vision ot Mis tress Betty filling his pipe and brew in Li" a Li lass s d O O ot grog lor him ? Lastly, when he thought of two soft, brown eyes looking- affectionately at him, the pros pect was so enticing that now, thinking of it-- yes, he would haye married her him self, were: it not so yery much trouble. " Hang the young dog; he shall haye her," he: thought, with a sigh, and, taking up a tiny steel mirror that lay at his side, he looked at the reflection ol his fat, choleric, well-preserved old face. ouw Hetty if I should try? \\ ho 1 Hetrich was accustomed to his master s calm contemplation of his own charms, so he waited patiently till Mynheer, laying aside the glass, exclaimed with decision : " Yes ; he shall marry Jutfrouw Hetty ! I\ those old days there were grand con fabulations in regard to such a thins/ as a 2S 4 KITWYK S roKII-:S marriage, and everybody was deeply inter ested in the matter, except, perhaps, the par ties directly concerned. Jan did not see his father knock solemnly with the brass knocker at the spotless front door across the wav. lie was still unconscious when Mynheer com manded him to be ready .it three o clock that afternoon to call at Mynheer van der Velde s. "\\here you may perhaps see Jutlrouw Hetty," the old gentleman added, with a stilt wink in his n^ht eye. Never had Mynheer been so facetious be fore, and Jan stared ; but imputing it to an extra allowance of ^ro^", such things hap pened in those days, said nothing. Mynheer van der \ ekle s room of state was open to receive the visitors; the room, with its angular furniture, slippery floor, and innu merable \ an der \ elde s staring down from the walls, and, over all, that air of painful neatness \\hich will free/e the most cordial visitor. 1 his was |ust what old I )e Lesken reveled in, so in ^reat content he sat down on a hard, uninviting sofa, while (an stood at the window and drummed a tune on the small diamond-shaped panes. Mynheer van der Velde had solemnity enough, and to spare, THE STORY OF LESKKX 285 as he entered, leading Mistress Betty by the tips of the tinkers. As tor this same Mistress Betty well, well! one could forgive old De Lesken for gallantly advancing and kissing one rosy cheek at which her father looked discomposed and Jan wondered. Juffrouw Betty lowered her brown eyes, and a pink blush came and went as Jan stepped forward to greet her. Mynheer de Lesken, taking her hand in his, stopped him. " [an, there is a great surprise in store for you. Be grateful to me, for I arranged it. This, sir, is Betty van der Yelde now, but she is to be Mevrouw de Lesken and your future wife ! " With a half-uttered exclamation, " Father ! " [an had started back. I lis heart beat wildly; he could have rebelled against this this what ? Against Betty ? Silently blushing be fore him, with a look in her dark eyes as if she were quite content ? Xo, impossible! Jan, seeing that look, surrendered, and, bending forward, he kissed the; little hand that was as helpless as his own at the mercy of these old men, who stood by making mental calcula tions and hugely satisfied with their day s work. Life was being shaped for Mynheer 2$<> KITWYK STOKIKS Jan by his cautious lather as it had been cut tor all his ancestors. \\liy should he complain? Love? Away with such foolish thoughts! \\hat need of so useless an article? \\ill it bear interest 5 Can it he bartered? \o ! Then out ot tin- way with it ! IV I\< >r,i s camped out by the canal in a thatched cottage containing one room. \\ith the fic tion ot a camp and a ruthless enemy in mind, he had everything ready for instant retreat. A great hearth there was; a bed in a cornel"; an easy-chair (with a romance attached). He side the bed stood the trumpet wrapped 111 green hai/e, and over it, against the white washed wall, hung Jan de Leskcn s fate a fiddle and bow. 1 low often Jan had heard the old man play on it the melodies he had learned in his pro gress through the world, believing what In- said of elves who lived in the quaint wooden box and touched the strings with invisible lingers ! One never-to-be-forgotten day old Kohus placed the fiddle in his arms, and little by THK STORY OF LKSKKX 287 little, taught him all lie knew, till he discov ered that, ignorant as he was, the boy played as only untaught genius can play. Like a couple of conspirators, they used to come to gether of an evening, with the fear ot Myn heer s righteous wrath before their eyes, and Kobus would tell stories ot the Seven Years \Var, interlarded with goblins, till Jan shivered even at the: familiar plashing of the canal. At last rumors reached Me\ rouw s ears, and 288 KITYVYK STORIKS [an confessed, and his mother went by stealth to Kohus s house and heard her boy ])lay ; then she wept bitterly, as it old memories had been awakened. One day. in a moment of sheer insanity, she planned a surprise for Mynheer. I he < oor was opened, and Mynheer, waking from his nap, saw little |an with his violin, fol lowed by his mother. Pleading, she said to Mynheer : "It is a surprise." It was a surprise all round ; for, as fan played, Mynheer s face ^rew fiery red. " lake that bev^ ar s trash away." he shouted, "and don t let me hear it a^ain ! ^ ou d like Kobus s place, would you, yonn^" man . J As tor you, Mevrouw, aceept my con gratulations; your son bears the strongest re semblance to you u^ h ! Mynheer cried in undisguised disgust, and so ushered them out of the room. I here is nothing like the hopelessness of a passion to make it strong. I low could [an help it that every lovely sound knocked at his heart s door? It was both his ]<>y and his misfortune. Music was to him a urer, IK THE STORY OF LESKEN 289 his soul with dreams that were but fantastic foolery to other men. Kobus s house was his paradise ; here all space became alive with the tones the young fellow drew from the violin, while Kobus looked on with proud eyes. " You are my child," he would say. " When I die you will take the violin and trumpet and my sword, and keep them in memory of me, will you not? This house is to go to my old cousin, for what do you care for it? Are you not Mynheer }an de Lesken ? " That was just his misfortune ; to be Jan de Lesken, with his path in life so neatly marked out for him, that he. awoke one fine morning and remembered that the day before; it had been decreed that Betty van der Yelde should become; his wife. Then did Jan, looking up at the; white; bed- curtain, heave a rebellious sigh ; but the next instant he turned over to the other side and calmly went to sleep again. V Till : betrothal day had come and gone. Mynheer van der Yelde s house had been 21)0 KITYVYK STORIKS thrown open on that occasion, if one can apply so violent a term to the serious cere mony. 1 at Mynheers and buxom Mevrouws, besides sons and daughters ot various shapes, had, \vith staid demeanor, congratulated the liappy couple. Mistress Betty, in her blue brocaded ^own. with the yellow satin petticoat, looked de murely satislied out ot her brown eyes, calm and quiet and fair just the ideal of a Hutch maiden, as she leant back in the hi^ h-backed chair, while Mynheer Jan, who stood at her side rather listlessly, wore a look ot uncon cern, nay, quiet indifference, which was felt to be highly proper under every circumstance, and especially the present. Mynheer van der Velde, it not much ac quainted with that or^an called the heart, so much the more understood its neighbor the stomach. Rich, sweet cordials were; drunk to the health ot bride and LH oom ; tarts of ma^ic fla vors, with true lovers knots upon them, stood on lone; tables; pineapples, brought at ^ reat expense from the hast Indies, made the M\n heers mouths water; delicious teas furthered "ossip, and there was a certain little room to THE STORY OF LKSKEN 291 which the magistracy of Kitwyk were led by a red-cheeked maid in a white cap, witli glistening, golden ornaments hanging down on either temple, where they were given grog and rum, and many another good thing besides. So Mynheer van der Yelde and Mynheer de Lesken were well content, and as the senti ments of the newly betrothed were a matter ot utter indifference to everybody, bliss may be said to have reigned supreme. THKKK came-, a mid-autumn day when the apple-trees near the counting-house, knocked with ripened fruit against the: little windows ; when the flowers were in their last superb glory ; when the grapes hung heavy arid purple on the vines. The afternoon sun still shone, but there was a chill in the air. Mynheer de Lesken walked through the long hall in his house, wrapped in half a do/en cloaks, and with his cocked hat on his head. As he reached the kitchen, he slipped in sud denly for a breath of warm air, and at the same time to see i! the maids were doing their duty. Mynheer was a housewife at heart ; he had a neat turn for cooker) and was a connoisseur 2<)2 KITWYK STORIKS in polished copper. As he put his head in at the door, scores ol Mynheers \vere reflected hack from the scoured pans and pots that hun^ against the walls. Satistied with the effect his unexpected pres ence produced, wrapping himself more tightly in his cloaks, the old gentleman directed his steps alon^ the kitchen-garden to the count ing-room. With approving eyes he looked at the yel low pumpkins that had tried, with elephantine playfulness, to L;TOW over the fence of the m- closure ; then at the delicate rose-cabbage, the lettuces, the juicy turnips and carrots, which, it not quite in their youth, were not to be despised. I hen came the tulip-bed. I he L^ iy, flaunting flowers were IOIIL; since dead, and only a lew withered stalks remained. ( )]d IV Lesken had no objection to tulips; his grandfather had been a monomaniac on the subject, and he had a ^reat respect for his an cestors. 1 uhps had also a market value, and were not merely idle sentiment. So Myn heer cultivated them, and felt as it he were patroni/m^ Xature. Hut now the tulipbed was bare; a chill \\ ind, sweeping by, lifted the fourth of his six cloaks, and eyave Mvnheer THE STORY OF LESKEN 293 a humorous poke in the ribs, then, passing on, made the withered tulip-stalks so very con spicuous that Mynheer s orderly soul writhed at the contusion. At that unlucky moment Jan, with a quill behind his ear, stepped out ol the counting- house and, in the supposed sweetness ot soli tude, gave an enjoyable yawn ol the most honest description, when he suddenly caught his father s eyes fixed on him with a look of unmistakable wrath. " Perhaps you d like a bed next to your desk, sir ! " "But, father- " 1 )on t interrupt me!" Mynheer cried, growing red. " I have some other things to say to you. It s enough to to to choke with rage to be your lather ! " Father, you " Don t interrupt, sir! Here I have worked myself to death for you, and you re; not grate ful ! I betroth you to a young person of ot -unexceptionable qualities, and you neglect her. Yes, neglect her ! Mynheer cried, quite regardless that Dietrich s wooden face turned to die window, troubled and perplexe.d. " Father," said Jan, straightening himself 2.4 K1TWYK STOKIKS up, proudly, " you re unjust to me ; you have always l>een so. As you say, this marriage is ot your making; you did not consult me. Let that pass, tor others are no Letter oil. I suppose you married my mother in the same way." " 1 low dare you, sir "bather, hear me. I have not opposed your wishes, l>ut you have at least no power to make me love [utfrouw Hetty." "Love! Stutt ! \\ ho wants you to love any one 2 I want you to marry her, that is all. \ ou re to be civil. As lor love - d d nonsense, all ot it cried Mynheer, quite lie- side himself. "1 do enough, lather, hut it you are not satisfied, release me. [ulirouw Hetty \\ill not break her heart. " \\ hy should she break her heart, you cox comb 3 l)iit you shall marry her, sir. 1 )o you hear me . J \ es, you shall marry her two weeks from to day. 1 swear you shall." Mynheer gasped furiously, and so shook under his six cloaks, that there is no kno\\ in^ what he mi^ht have done had not old I )ietrich at that moment opened the counting- house door, and so become an unconscious li j htnin j rod. THE STORY OF LESKEN 295 HAD Jan re tally neglected Juffrouw Hetty? Well, one could hardly say neglected ; he had simply resigned himself to Mistress Betty as to the inevitable. Once a week he sat in the state-room ol Mynheer van der Yelde s house, and saw Betty JAN S cm KT.smr. knit with tireless hands, or embroider moral samplers. She was satisfied, lor her day-dream had become a reality. Passion? Love? Such words were un known to her. They would have thrown her peaceful little soul into a state; ol confusion. So Jan sat dumbly by, and Betty was satis- 2 ,6 KI F\VYK STORIKS tied; only Mynheer de I.esken, in a curious leelm^" ot atlection tor his tuture daughter, had let his imagination run away with him, lor |an seemed to all Kitwyk a model lover. So old 1 )c I .esken s an^ry words tell on deal cars; lor Mynheer |an continued his wooing with even more than I hitch inditterence and tranquillity. VI \\H\T Mynheer I )< Lesken had once de creed, was sure to he. Mynheer van der \elde had consented, and the wedding was to take place in two weeks. Ihcre was no surprise tor Mistress Hetty, no bustle and hurry and excited consultations. Mevrouw van der \ elde had occupied her pla cid career in collecting h.er daughter s trous scan, when that daughter was still in s\\ addling clothes. The L^ eat presses groaned \\ith the weight of exquisite linen, each do/en ot everything tied with dainty red nlihons, and the odor of all as fragrant as new-mown hay in an early Mimmer s morning. Imitations were sent tar and wide. I he l)ur ir omaster oj Amsterdam came, he was a THE STORY OF LKSKEX 297 Van der Yelcle, and the most illustrious of his name. There was invited a syndic of Rotter dam, and two from the I I ague, and a godly divine from Arnhem. There came a l)e Lesken from Amsterdam, who had obtained leave of the city fathers to have the great posts and connecting chains, which extended the whole length ot his house, made of silver, solid silver, while iron con tented most people. But he cursed his folly ; tor, though they remained there as a lasting token of the honesty or incapacity of every Dutch thief, this DC; Lesken could never go to sleep without the haunting iear of find ing them gone. One morning they found him dead at his window. Physicians called it apoplexy ; but, really, he was killed by his silver chains. He was still enough alive to come to Jan s wedding, fleeing from his torture in a lum bering chariot and six ; and as he descended at Mynheer s door he. shed much glory upon the town. \\ hat a time it was ! Such packages as the trekschuit brought ! Silver by the ton, by the square yard, and all to burst in an accumulated flash ot glory upon the good -V s KITWYK STOK1KS town ol kitwyk on the eventful weddin" day. I low the sun shone that clay ! As if it had determined to do something ercat in honor ol the occasion ! \ an der \ eKles and 1 )e Les- kens came Irom everywhere: on loot, in un \\ieldy chariots, and some in sedan chairs. Mynheer van der \ elde s house was hun^ with garlands inside and out. The state room was turned into a delicious arbor ol (lowers, amid which wandered illustrious \ an der \eldesm velvet coats, and knee-breeches, and massive golden chains, and \ an der Vcldes in silken and satin ^ owns and nodding plumes. Over the way, Mynheer de Lesken had sworn not to l>e outdone. lie was to lM\e the ( inner alter the ceremony, and, ah! it yon could only have seen the ^or^eous plate. Kven the I )e Lesken ol the posts and chains raised his eyebrows one eighth ol an inch, \\hich is equivalent to a dictionary ol the ad jectives ol ordinary mortals. The whole of Kitwyk had Hocked together before the Van der \elde hoii.se; everybody \\lio had a spare moment de\ oted it to staring at the all important mansion, or at the idass THE STORY OF LESJvEX 299 coach which stood before the door, read)- to bear off Mistress Betty to the old church on the market-place, where the Dominie already stood in the vestry, rehearsing his address to the. you no- couple. Dominie, Dominie, there s man) a slip between the cup and the lip ! As tor Mistress Betty, she also was ready. Calm, demure, plump, and rosy, she sat in her room, while; about her bustled yarious illustrious feminine Van der Veldes ; one fast ened the myrtle wreath, another clasped a pearl circlet about her fair throat, while still another smoothed the rich folds of the bridal dress. This was the realization of Mistress Betty s most romantic dreams : not marrying the man she; loyed, oh, no ! but sitting here in a gor geous gown, so lazy and so important, and haying eyery one at her beck and call. Jan, to be; sure, was young and handsome-, but he was so very odd, his future Meyrouw thought witli sincere disapproval. She had even known him to wonder, and Mistress Betty abhorred wondering as much as did her future father- in-law. She had pouted her pretty red lips with as much scorn as her little phlegmatic 3oo KITWYK STORIKS soul could exhibit, and it |;in had had even the heavy gallantry <>t one ot the despised yoiin^ Mynheers, he would have kissed the pout away troni the rosy month; but, instead, he looked inditterently on and moved not a muscle. So Hetty never forgot that he had an uncomfortable habit ol wondering, and that he would not kiss her, even \\ith the best ol < >pportumties. I herelore she sat calm and rosy and con tented, without the unpleasant emotion of having her heart beat one decree faster than ordinary. A model daughter-in-law tor Mynheer de Lesken! C< >\ n:\T\n.\T was enthroned on Mynheer de Lesken s countenance that morning, as lie sat in the leathern chair in the sitting-room, doniLi" the honors ot his house; to his kinsman ot the post and chains, \\ho sat opposite to him, tramping quite unconcernedly with one polity loot tor ot course he had the ^ out, upon the sacred carpet: a liberty which would have brought down maledictions Irom M \ nheer on an v one else. THE STORY OF LESKEN 301 In one hour Mynheer would have a daugh ter ; a dear, ideal daughter, who could fill a pipe and mix a glass of grog. _> - -iiJiT - ~. - TSf- I)E I.F.SKKX ENTERTAINING. Jan had, to be: sure, a part to play in the coming event, and Mynheer, suddenly over come by paternal feelings, remembered that, in attending to the welfare of De Lesken of the posts and chains, he had quite lost sight of his son, whom he had not seen since the ;,02 KITWYK STOKIKS state dinner of the evening before. I hen. too, the pleasant opportunity of bein^ wise before Ins honored ^iiest ! " I must see him," thought Mynheer, and ran^ the bell. " Cosette, ask Mynheer (an to come here; 1 wish to speak to him. A j_n>od hid, a ^ood lad," he said to Mynheer of Amsterdam, with a wave of his riedu hand; "but more like tin- late Mevrouw than myself," - the most touch ing allusion he had ever made to his departed wife. I lere the door was opened and Cosette s head appeared. " If you please, Mynheer, I knocked at the door, but no one answered." " ( io back and open the door." "If you please. Mynheer, I opened the door," said Cosette, re appearing. "Well?" "Then I walked in, it you please, Myn heer " What then ?" "It you please, Mynheer "I) n it you please, Mynheer 1 "Certainl, it it ou I I mean. Mn last ni jht." THE STORY OF LESKEN 303 " That s enough, Go to Dietrich ; perhaps my son is with him. You must know," he added, turning- apologetically to his relative, "Jan, I am ashamed to say, is quite absent- minded, and and " he stammered, becom ing" embarrassed as he saw the other s look of horror, "perhaps he does n t know how late it is." "Not know how late it is any day and on such a da) ? Absent-minded absent- minded ? \Yhat is the world coming to ? " ex claimed he of Amsterdam, in a rich, wheezy voice, that harmonized finely with his gouty foot. Mynheer felt the full force of this appeal, and was silent ; but his face grew forebod ingly red. A pair of awkward feet shuffled outside on the door-mat. The door was opened, and in came Dietrich, superb in cotton velvet. " Was Mynheer Jan with you, Dietrich?" " Yes, Mynheer." "When? " Last night." "Blockhead! 1 want to sec 1 him now," cried Mynheer. " I have not seen him to-dav. Isn t he 304 KITWYK ST<>K1KS in his room?" I Hetrich asked in some surprise. " ( )( course he is n t. \\ hat are yon staring at me lor 2 " cried Mynheer, in a passion. " I hint him up ! I le shall pay lor this ! 1 le \vas only horn to be a trouble to me just like his mother. 1 lere, you, Dietrich, send some one to Kobus; perhaps the old tool will know where my son is." And. for the second time in his lite, Mynheer stalked about the room in uncontrollable ra^e, till I )e hesken ol Amster dam be^an to perspire, merely with the fa tigue ol looking at him. Mynheer was, however, too excited to be thoughtful. I le strode up and down, last and furious, till Mynheer ol Amsterdam, with a celerity ol imagination that did him all credit, thought of apoplectic tits, and what not, and grasped the handle ol the tea kettle, that was sin^in^" away over the flame of a spirit-lamp on the table, ready for instant use. A^.un old 1 hetnch appeared. " Mynheer, Mynheer! he cried anxiously, " Mynheer Jan is not to be found, nor Kobus. ( )h, if something should have happened to the boy!" M vnheer, m Teat ra<>"e. THK STORY OK LESKEN 305 "It s only some of his impudence; but he shall pay for it ! " he gasped, pulling an im mense gold chronometer out of his breeches- pocket, and consulting its staring face. I )iet- ricli shook his head, when suddenly out in the hall a zealous voice shouted, " We ve got him, we ve got him ! " and Mynheer, with a gulp of relief, and a muttered " I ) n him ! " tore, open the. door, and discovered Kobus, trying with difficulty to keep Cosette and two enthusiastic men-servants from doing him a bodily injury. "Where s my son ?" cried old I)e Lesken, looking from one to the other. " ( ), Mynheer, Mynheer! I came here of my own accord to speak to you. I must speak to you." In his agitation Kobus saw neither Dietrich nor Mynheer from Amsterdam. " Mynheer," he cried pleadingly, "the wed ding cannot take place to-day." "(iood (iod! what do you mean? Is my son ill? I she is he dead ?" " \o, neither. He is gone." " ( ione ! done! Where? Can t you find your tongue?" Mynheer screamed, beside himself with rage and consternation. "Mvnheer, it was all mv fault, and vet I, 3 of> KITYVYK STORIES too, was innocent 1 Be merciful, Mynheer. I Ie had forgotten that to-day was to be his wedding-day." " Forgotten ! It was all the other three could i^asp in their bewilderment. " I le came to my house last night," Kobus said in a lo\v voice. " I It! often came of an evening, and oh, Mynheer, I love him like my own child. Be lenient with him ! " " ( 10 on. \\ e re not interested in your feel ings," muttered I )ietnch, a prey to grief and jealousy. " \Ve talked of this and that, and at last about music Mynheer knows how his son loves music," faltered Kobus, "and we quite forgot that to-day was to be his wedding-day. At last I said that I had heard from some one who passed by that the greatest violinist in the world was to give a concert at Arnhem to-day at noon. After I had told him, he spoke of nothing else, and said it was the dream of his lite to hear such a master. Then he grew quieter, and soon he went away, quite lost in thought. I have not seen him since. Half an hour ago the miller of Sippken anchored at the wharf, and I went down to him for a bit ot a talk, and then for the first time I missed m\ THK STORY OF LESKEN 307 boat. Some one s stolen my boat ! I cried. He s honest ! said the miller. What d ye mean ? said I. Why, said he, I saw Myn heer Jan de Lesken step out of her at Sipp- ken, bright and early this morning-. Merci ful God! I cried, and to-day is his wedding- da) . Then I ran to tell you. Oh, Mynheer, he will come back this afternoon, or to-mor row. Forgive " Out of my sight, you scoundrel ! " shrieked Mynheer. " Out, or I 11 I 11 murder you ! " And Dietrich pushed the bewildered Kobus out ot the door and shut it in his face, while Mynheer de Lesken sank into his arm-chair and buried his face in his hands. Suddenly he started up. " Bear witness," he cried, " I disown him from this da) forth. I have no more; a son ! " " Mynheer, Mynheer, think of what you say," and Dietrich laid his faithful hand on his master s arm. " Silence; ! " the other cried, shaking- him off. "Not another word. I have spoken so it shall be. Oh, disgraced, disgraced!" he groaned, sinking into his chair again. " Betty, poor child ! " he muttered. Then aloud to Dietrich, "To Mynheer van der 3oS KITWYK STORIKS \ elde s instantly. Tell him I must see him this moment. ( io ! Better that he were dead than this, the villain! But I have done with him. Now he can -o to the devil ! But Betty poor, poor child . I low will it he with her 5 It will never be forgotten that Jan de Lesken s bride was not worth the scrape of a fiddle! And Mynheer shivered m his soul-felt disgust. " Mynheer de Lesken, marry her yourself," said a tat voice., and Mynheer turned about with a start and stared m sheer amazement at hi^ honored relative, who presented in his ri^ht eye a very ^ood imitation of a wink. " Marry marry I marry her myself/ Ha! ha I ha !" And Mynheer lan-hed a fu rious, bitter laiiLdi. I he fury and the bitter ness, however, faded away, and the idea re mained, I he idea was wonderfully enticing. Mynheer leaned back in his chair, and in the silence that ensued, for the second time m his lite, allowed hi^ imagination to run away with him. I marry her myself! I la ! ha ha ! " But this was a lau^h of the deliciously yielding sort. " \\ hy. it she will have me to be sure, thirty years is hum ! hum ! But I m a iau . cried Mynheer, with a self satisfied slap on hi^ THE STORY OF LKSKEX 309 breast. "If she will only and I m a rich man ! " So loose-jointed were Mynheer de Lesken s thoughts, there is no knowing where they would have stopped il, at that moment, Myn heer van der Yelde had not opened the: door. " It is very late, Mynheer de Lesken ; we must be moving ; where is your son ? " " Mynheer, 1 have no son. For me he is dead. This morning" he went to Arnhem to hear a trumpery tiddler, and quite lorgot that this was his wedding-day." Ci kinrs questionings went about; eyebrows were raised ; little groups oi whisperers stood around. Two hours had passed since: the: time of the proposed ceremony, yet nothing had taken place ; so the illustrious Van der Veldes and the rich I )e Leskens raised their eyebrows and whispered. Xot that they had been neglected -by no means. They had been very well treated, which meant, in the understanding of Van der Veldes and I )e Leskens, well led and well wined. But they had come lor a wedding, and where was the wedding? 310 KITWYK STOKIKS Mistress Betty had been told. Tears? Yes, tears had been shed; hut behind these same tears her common sense \vas on guard. What! she forgotten lor a mere beggar: Mistress Hetty s classification was after the same standard as Mynheer de Lesken s. She jilted? 1 low her bosom friends would laugh ! and, as she thought of that climax to her woes, tears of bitter earnest rolled down the plump cheeks. She to suiter for this in sult all her lite, and he, the villain, to go scot tree ? ( )h no, no it must not be ! Then did her father very lalteringly otter her Mynheer de Lesken s hand, and, as in structed, lay his old heart and all his riches at her feet. I ears flowed unhindered down the rosy cheeks, but they did not pl e\ eilt [uttroUW Hetty from calculating in a way that would have done honor even to the kinsman ot the posts and chains. A sense of calm and secur ity came upon her; alter all, she could, if she only would, be married that day and become a Mevrouw de Lesken. Then must that other I )e Lesken beware and through her placid little soul there shot a feeling ot hate as strong as it was rare. THE STORY OF LESKEN 311 After all, a Van der Yelde was to marry a De Lesken, and there was the excitement of unheard-of circumstances into the bargain ; so thought the old people. All the young girls said they pitied the bride, though there was not one who would have refused Myn heer de Lesken ; and the young men seemed to think that the father of Jan had too much luck. The Dominie, who had been waiting at the church all day, was hastily notified of the curious change, so that he should leave out of his discourse all objectionable points, such, for instance, as the matter of age. At last, then, the glass coach started off with the fair bride, and another followed with the bridegroom. And so the Dominie made them one. Who cared that the flowers in the arbor began to droop ; that the dishes at the state dinner were overdone ; that the guests had more the aspect ol condoling than congratu lating ? Who cared ? You see, after all, a Van der Yelde married a De Lesken, and everything is in a name. KITWYK STOKIKS \ i-:s, youn^- Mynheer \\ as honest, at least. In the early dawn <>t the next clay. l\ol>us found his lioat a^ ain in its usual place. " Poor hoy, perhaps he has come hack ! ( iod have mercy on him! thought the old man, sorrowfully. "II I could only see him! ( ), Mynheer de Lesken, Mynheer de Leskcn, it y< )ii d but waited till to-day ! Never was Kitwyk in such a state ot ex citement before. Mvnheer de Lesken s house was the cynosure ot all eyes. \\ as it sur prising, then, that at every sound or noise proceeding from that respectable dwelling, every Mevrouw and M\nheer should stare at it stealthily through the round hole in the closed shutters till there was ail unseen line (it ni ^ht caps \\ith frills, brought up in tin- rear l>y ni^ht caps \\ith tassels, through the \\holc row of houses opposite Mynheer de I .esken s . J Still, exhausted nature must seek rehel, and they were all sleeping the sleep of the just, \\ hen some one knocked with the brass knocker against Mynheer s front door. "Merciful I ather, it s Mynheer [an! cried an excited feminine voice. THE STORY OF LESKEN 313 " Open the door instantly, Cosette," cried fan for it was he. His face was haggard and pale, and his whole appearance was dis ordered. JAN RETURNS. The housemaid proceeded to obey this com mand with great deliberation. Being a woman, Cosette felt as if she; had a personal griev ance against this errant bridegroom. The door being opened she concluded, on nearer 314 KITWYK STORIES examination, that Mynheer Ian was not to be J J trilled with. " Cosette, I must speak with my father; has In-, come down yet ? Stay! I will go to his room." " It you please, Mynheer," cried Cosette, laying a detaining 1 hand upon his arm and speaking with ^reat distinctness, " it you please, Mynheer and Mevrouw haye not yet come down-stairs." "Mynheer and Mevrouw -- Mevrouw ?" Ian repeated, staring at her in utter astonish- J O ment. "\\hat do you mean? \Yho? Mevrouw? \\nat Mevrouw?" he cried. " Mevrouw de Lesken ; tor, as you did not come. Mynheer your lather married the pretty yoiin:^ lady himself," Cosette- exclaimed spite- tully and triumphantly, in the happy conscious ness that she had avenged her sex. "Married Betty -- married her himself 5 \Yhy," said Jan, with a wild lau^h, quite lor ^ettin^" Cosette s presence "why, then I don t need to ask his forgiveness I hen he laughed a^am, and, alter the man ner of men, felt as if he had been shamefully abused. THE STORY OF LESKEN 315 " Cosette, I shall go to my room and wait till Mynheer and Mevrouw " with a just per ceptible stress on the last " till Mynheer and Mevrouw come down to " Not in my house, sir. You have no room in my house you are a stranger here ! " a harsh voice suddenly interrupted. As Jan, with a start, raised his eyes, he be held his father, enveloped in a voluminous dressing-gown, standing in the middle of the great stairs. For a moment they looked at each other like two mortal enemies, with emotions too strong for words. Then the violent passion of the elder, made more furious by intense jealous}-, spurned control. " Leave my house?, you you wretch ! " he cried, striking the balustrade with his clenched hand. " Leave this house, and let me never see your face again, you man without honor or shame ! you disgrace to your name "Stop, father! You are my father, and - Heaven forgive? me! I am in elange?r of for getting it." " Ilolel your tongue!" screamed Mynheer. " You have brought wretchedness enough here." 316 KITNVVK STOKIKS " I know I know ; I cannot excuse myself; you would not understand me should I try. But it seems you have no reason to complain ot the wretchedness I caused." "What? what? I )o you taunt me with try in^ tohule yourdisj^race ?" Mynheer screamed, leaping down the stairs toward his son, with uplifted arm. "Beware! (an shouted; "beware, Myn heer de Lesken ! \ on have no son, I no lather; as you have forgotten, 1 may tor^et. \\ e are strangers now, as you wished. Be it so. 1 have main things to repent of in my lite, hut my last words to you, which will ever remind you that you had a son, shall he, that I mi-ht have been a better son had you been \o, no! It is cowardly to accuse you. Cowardly- cowardly! \Ve shall never see each other a^ain. May you be happy! and [an, without another word, left his lather s house, and closed behind himselt forever the spotless Iront door with its brass knocker. 1 le strode down the silent street till some one came stumping towards him. " I )ear boy ! dear Mynheer [an tie Lesken " kobus, kobus, never more |an de THE STORY OF LKSKEN 317 Lcsken ! " and Jan covered his face with his hands. " Mynheer Jan, come to my house;. All will he well again in a few days," old Kobus pleaded, laying his hand on the young man s arm. " Xever, never, old friend. I must be gone. I must go tar away, where no one will ever be disgraced by me again." The sun broke through the mist of the earlv o ^ morning as the two walked slowly toward the canal, and such of Kitwyk as were already up were rewarded by seeing for the last time Mynheer Jan de Lesken. IX WHY try to excuse him? It is impossible. He went far. far away, as he said he would. "Far away" meant, at first, to Amsterdam, and then to Rotterdam ; but lite; was not pleasant in the neighborhood ol illustrious \ an der Velcles. One day, as he was aim lessly roaming about the great docks of Rotterdam, he thought: " \Yhy not sail away and see if there; is a future for you in another country ? " 3iS KITWYK STORIKS So it came to pass that fan sailed over the wide oceau to see the world too late! Poor, unfriended as he was, he tried to make the best of life. f Ie \\ as a dreamer. The world only tolerates rich dreamers; poor dreamers come to nothing. So fan de Lesken came to nothing, like many another man. I Ie turned for help to the instrument that had caused him so much misery, hut among men who had lived and learned, he knew nothing. I Ie dreamed his lite away, playing here and playing there, barely earning" his livelihood, THE STORY OF LESKEN 319 till one day he obtained a place in the orches tra of the old Wallack Theatre. As the years went on, the feeling of what he had been grew duller and duller, till it seemed a forgot ten dream. Hut one night, he heard a song. Fresh and strong, the memory of his life s story returned to him ; for in this song he rec ognized a simple melody the great violinist had played the morning of the day, fifty years before, that should have been his wedding- day. Father and bride and friends were long since dead, and he, who had nothing to live for, sat there, where they made people merry for money, and scratched away at his fiddle. Were you ever in the old Wallack Theatre? Did you never see the bent old man in the left- hand corner of the orchestra, who played the violin with trembling hands, or sat there lost in thought? That was old Lesken, once of Kitwyk. A 000123548 o DO X EY i IMPORTER SAN FUANCISCqJ - . \J"~ _7" I A\ u J/ 1C. I