"The poor child! Sorry am I she ever went to Madam Semple's to see Mrs.

Gordon. If thy word I had taken, Joris!"

"If my word the elder also had taken. When first, he told me that his house he would offer to the Gordons, I said to him, 'So foolish art them! In the end, what does not fit will fight.' If to-night them could have seen Mistress Gordon when she heard of her nephew's hurt. Without one word of regret, without one word of thanks, and in a great pa.s.sion, she left the house. For Neil she cared not. 'He had been ever an envious kill-joy. He had ever hated her dear d.i.c.k. He had ever been jealous of any one handsomer than himself. He was a black dog in the manger; and she hoped, with all her heart, that d.i.c.k had done for him.' Beside herself with grief and pa.s.sion she was, or the elder had not borne so patiently her words."

"As her own son, she loved him."

"Yea, Lysbet; but _just_ one should be. Weary and sad am I to-night."

The next morning was the sabbath, and many painful questions suggested themselves to Joris and Lysbet Van Heemskirk. Joris felt that he must not take his seat among the deacons until he had been fully exonerated of all blame of blood-guiltiness by the dominie and his elders and deacons in full kirk session. Madam could hardly endure the thought of the glances that would be thrown at her daughter, and the probable slights she would receive. Batavius plainly showed an aversion to being seen in Katherine's company. But these things did not seem to Joris a sufficient reason for neglecting worship. He thought it best for people to face the unpleasant consequences of wrong-doing; and he added, "In trouble also, my dear ones, where should we go but into the house of the good G.o.d?"

Katherine had not spoken during the discussion but, when it was over, she said, "_Mijn vader, mijn moeder_, to-day I cannot go! For me have some pity. The dominie I will speak to first; and what he says, I will do."

"Between me and thy _moeder_ thou shalt be."

"Bear it I cannot. I shall fall down, I shall be ill; and there shall be shame and fear, and the service to make stop, and then more wonder and more talk, and the dominie angry also! At home I am the best."

"Well, then, so it shall be."

But Joris was stern to Katherine, and his anger added the last bitterness to her grief. No one had said a word of reproach to her; but, equally, no one had said a word of pity. Even Joanna was shy and cold, for Batavius had made her feel that one's own sister may fall below moral par and sympathy. "If either of the men die," he had said, "I shall always consider Katherine guilty of murder; and nowhere in the Holy Scriptures are we told to forgive murder, Joanna. And even while the matter is uncertain, is it not right to be careful? Are we not told to avoid even the appearance of evil?" So that, with this charge before him, Batavius felt that countenancing Katherine in any way was not keeping it.

And certainly the poor girl might well fear the disapproval of the general public, when her own family made her feel her fault so keenly.

The kirk that morning would have been the pillory to her. She was unspeakably grateful for the solitude of the house, for s.p.a.ce and silence, in which she could have the relief of unrestrained weeping.

About the middle of the morning, she heard Bram's footsteps. She divined _why_ he had come home, and she shrank from meeting him until he removed the clothing he had worn during the night's b.l.o.o.d.y vigil. Bram had not thought of Katherine's staying from kirk; and when she confronted him, so tear-stained and woe-begone, his heart was full of pity for her. "My poor little Katherine!" he said; and she threw her arms around his neck, and sobbed upon his breast as if her heart would break.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "O Bram! is he dead?"]

"_Mijn kleintje_, who has grieved thee?"

"O Bram! is he dead?"

"Who? Neil? I think he will get well once more."

"What care I for Neil? The wicked one! I wish that he might die. Yes, that I do."

"Whish!--to say that is wrong."

"Bram! Bram! A little pity give me. It is the other one. Hast thou heard?"

"How can he live? Look at that sorrow, dear one, and ask G.o.d to forgive and help thee."

"No, I will not look at it. I will ask G.o.d every moment that he may get well. Could I help that I should love him? So kind, so generous, is he!

Oh, my dear one, my dear one, would I had died for thee!"

Bram was much moved. Within the last twenty-four hours he had begun to understand the temptation in which Katherine had been; begun to understand that love never asks, 'What is thy name? Of what country art thou? Who is thy father?' He felt that so long as he lived he must remember Miriam Cohen as she stood talking to him in the shadowy store.

Beauty like hers was strange and wonderful to the young Dutchman. He could not forget her large eyes, soft and brown as gazelle's; the warm pallor and brilliant carnation of her complexion; her rosy, tender mouth; her abundant black hair, fastened with large golden pins, studded with jewels. He could not forget the grace of her figure, straight and slim as a young palm-tree, clad in a plain dark garment, and a neckerchief of white India silk falling away from her exquisite throat.

He did not yet know that he was in love; he only felt how sweet it was to sit still and dream of the dim place, and the splendidly beautiful girl standing among its piled-up furniture and its hanging draperies.

And this memory of Miriam made him very pitiful to Katherine.

"Every one is angry at me, Bram, even my father; and Batavius will not sit on the chair at my side; and Joanna says a great disgrace I have made for her. And thou? Wilt thou also scold me? I think I shall die of grief."

"Scold thee, thou little one? That I will not. And those that are angry with thee may be angry with me also. And if there is any comfort I can get thee, tell thy brother Bram. He will count thee first, before all others. How could they make thee weep? Cruel are they to do so. And as for Batavius, mind him not. Not much I think of Batavius! If he says this or that to thee, I will answer him."

"Bram! my Bram! my brother! There is one comfort for me,--if I knew that he still lived; if one hope thou could give me!"

"What hope there is, I will go and see. Before they are back from kirk, I will be back; and, if there is good news, I will be glad for thee."

Not half an hour was Bram away; and yet, to the miserable girl, how grief and fear lengthened out the moments! She tried to prepare herself for the worst; she tried to strengthen her soul even for the message of death. But very rarely is any grief as bad as our own terror of it. When Bram came back, it was with a word of hope on his lips.

"I have seen," he said, "who dost thou think?--the Jew Cohen. He of all men, he has sat by Captain Hyde's side all night; and he has dressed the wound the English surgeon declared 'beyond mortal skill.' And he said to me, 'Three times, in the Persian desert, I have cured wounds still worse, and the Holy One hath given me the power of healing; and, if He wills, the young man shall recover.' That is what he said, Katherine."

"Forever I will love the Jew. Though he fail, I will love him. So kind he is, even to those who have not spoken well, nor done well, to him."

"So kind, also, was the son of David to all of us. Now, then, go wash thy face, and take comfort and courage."

"Bram, leave me not."

"There is Neil. We have been companions; and his father and his mother are old, and need me."

"Also, I need thee. All the time they will make me to feel how wicked is Katherine Van Heemskirk!"

At this moment the family returned from the morning service, and Bram rather defiantly drew his sister to his side. Joris was not with them.

He had stopped at the "King's Arms" to ask if Captain Hyde was still alive; for, in spite of everything, the young man's heroic cheerfulness in the agony of the preceding night had deeply touched Joris. No one spoke to Katherine; even her mother was annoyed and humiliated at the social ordeal through which they had just pa.s.sed, and she thought it only reasonable that the erring girl should be made to share the trial.

Batavius, however, had much curiosity; and his first thought on seeing Bram at home was, "Neil is of course dead, and Bram is of no further use;" and, in the tone of one personally injured by such a fatality, he e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed,--

"So it is the end, then. On the sabbath day Neil has gone. If it should be the sabbath day in the other world,--which is likely,--it will be the worse for Neil."

"What mean you?"

"Is not Neil Semple dead?"

"No. I think, also, that he will live."

"I am glad. It is good for Katherine."

"I see it not."

"Well, then, if he dies, is it not Katherine's fault?"

"Heaven and h.e.l.l! No! Katherine is not to blame."

"All respectable and moral people will say so."

"Better for them not to say so. If I hear of it, then I will make them say it to my face."

"Then? Well?"

"I have my hands and my feet, for them--to punish their tongues."