And there lay beauty, intelligence, and constancy, pale and silent, And little that hermit guessed who was so near him.The little birds hopped on her now, and one nearly entangled his little feet in her rich auburn hair.
She came back to her troubles.The sun was set.She was very cold, She cried a little, but I think it was partly from the remains of physical weakness.And then she went home, praying God and the saints to enlighten her and teach her what to do for the best.
When she got home she was pale and hysterical, and would say nothing in answer to all their questions but her favourite word, "We are wading in deep waters,"The night seemed to have done wonders for her.
She came to Catherine, who was sitting sighing by the fireside, and kissed her, and said -"Mother, what would you like best in the world?""Eh, dear," replied Catherine despondently, "I know nought that would make me smile now; I have parted from too many that were dear to me.Gerard lost again as soon as found; Kate in heaven;and Sybrandt down for life."
"Poor mother! Mother dear, Gouda manse is to be furnished, and cleaned, and made ready all in a hurry, See, here be ten gold angels.Make them go far, good mother; for I have ta'en over many already from my boy for a set of useless loons that were aye going to find him for me."Catherine and Reicht stared at her a moment in silence, and then out burst a flood of questions, to none of which would she give a reply."Nay," said she, "I have lain on my bed and thought, and thought, and thought whiles you were all sleeping; and methinks Ihave got the clue to all, I love you, dear mother; but I'll trust no woman's tongue.If I fail this time, I'll have none to blame but Margaret Brandt."A resolute woman is a very resolute thing.And there was a deep, dogged determination in Margaret's voice and brow that at once convinced Catherine it would be idle to put any more questions at that time, She and Reicht lost themselves in conjectures; and Catherine whispered Reicht, "Bide quiet; then 'twill leak out;" a shrewd piece of advice, founded on general observation.
Within an hour Catherine was on the road to Gouda in a cart, with two stout girls to help her, and quite a siege artillery of mops, and pails, and brushes, She came back with heightened colour, and something of the old sparkle in her eye, and kissed Margaret with a silent warmth that spoke volumes, and at five in the morning was off again to Gouda.
That night as Reicht was in her first sleep a hand gently pressed her shoulder, and she awoke, and was going to scream, "Whisht,"said Margaret, and put her finger to her lips.
She then whispered, "Rise softly, don thy habits, and come with me!"When she came down, Margaret begged her to loose Dragon and bring him along.Now Dragon was a great mastiff, who had guarded Margaret Van Eyck and Reicht, two lone women, for some years, and was devotedly attached to the latter.
Margaret and Reicht went out, with Dragon walking majestically behind them.They came back long after midnight, and retired to rest.
Catherine never knew.
Margaret read her friends: she saw the sturdy, faithful Frisian could hold her tongue, and Catherine could not.Yet I am not sure she would have trusted even Reicht had her nerve equalled her spirit; but with all her daring and resolution, she was a tender, timid woman, a little afraid of the dark, very afraid of being alone in it, and desperately afraid of wolves.Now Dragon could kill a wolf in a brace of shakes; but then Dragon would not go with her, but only with Reicht; so altogether she made one confidante.
The next night they made another moonlight reconnaissance, and as I think, with some result.For not the next night (it rained that night and extinguished their courage), but the next after they took with them a companion, the last in the world Reicht Heynes would have thought of; yet she gave her warm approval as soon as she was told he was to go with them.
Imagine how these stealthy assailants trembled and panted when the moment of action came; imagine, if you can, the tumult in Margaret's breast, the thrilling hopes, chasing, and chased by sickening fears; the strange and perhaps unparalleled mixture of tender familiarity and distant awe with which a lovely and high-spirited, but tender, adoring woman, wife in the eye of the Law, and no wife in the eye of the Church, trembling, blushing, paling, glowing, shivering, stole at night, noiseless as the dew, upon the hermit of Gouda.
And the stars above seemed never so bright and calm.
