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Updated: July 14, 2025
A few hours before the nocturnal burial of old Fraulein Van Hoogstraten, Herr Matanesse Van Wibisma and his son Nicolas appeared before the city, but were refused admittance by the men who guarded the gates, although both appealed to their relative's death. Henrica's father did not come, he had gone several days before to attend a tourney at Cologne.
Henrica's was railed round, with a paling which had been fresh painted a task which Erlingsen performed with his own hands every spring.
Frau Van der Werff, you have been kept waiting a long time, please follow me." It had grown dark. The curtains of the sick-room were lowered and a small lamp, burning behind a screen, shed but a feeble light. The doctor approached the bed, felt Henrica's pulse, said a few words in a low tone to prepare her for her visitor, and then took the lamp to see how the invalid looked.
The musician walked thoughtfully towards home. Was Isabella a relative of this young girl? He had told Henrica almost all he knew of her external circumstances, and this perhaps gave the former the same right to call her an adventuress, that many in Rome had assumed. The word wounded him, and Henrica's inquiry whether he loved the stranger disturbed him, and appeared intrusive and unseemly.
He had told himself all these things more than once, but realized that he was walking with unsteady steps, upon a narrow pathway, when she met him outside the dining-room and he felt how cold and tremulous was the hand she laid in his. Maria led the way, and he silently followed her into Henrica's room.
Nicolas showed the captain his treasure, and then exclaimed: "Now forward, Junker von Dornburg, I know where we shall find them; and you, Captain Van Duivenvoorde, tell the burgomaster and Janus Dousa what has become of me." A week had elapsed since Henrica's flight, and with it a series of days of severe privation.
Henrica's eye, also sparkled approvingly, but suddenly they lost their light, and she stepped farther back into the room, for Maria came out of the workshops in the court-yard and, with her gaze fixed on the ground, walked past the fencers. The young wife had grown paler, but her clear blue eyes had gained a more confident, resolute expression.
Minutes elapsed, then the young girl started up, seized one of the torches and cast its light on her regained sister's face. How pale, how emaciated it looked! But it was still beautiful, still the same as before. Strangely-blended emotions of joy and grief took possession of Henrica's soul.
As he marched through Nobelstrasse with it, he heard the low, clear melody of a woman's voice issuing from an open window of the Hoogstraten mansion. He listened, and noticing with a shudder how much Henrica's voice for the singer must be the young lady resembled Isabella's, ordered the drummer to beat the drum.
Henrica's eye, also sparkled approvingly, but suddenly they lost their light, and she stepped farther back into the room, for Maria came out of the workshops in the court-yard and, with her gaze fixed on the ground, walked past the fencers. The young wife had grown paler, but her clear blue eyes had gained a more confident, resolute expression.
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