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Updated: May 28, 2025
He traded, wholesale and retail, in cloth and curried leather, and the couple were well to do. Nine children were born to them; four of these were set up in trade, one, Giles, was a dwarf, another, little Catherine, was a cripple. Cornelis, the eldest, and Sybrandt, the youngest, lived at home, too lazy to work, waiting for dead men's shoes.
But ere I lied from it, I looked down the path to see what could make a man so lighthearted in this weary world; and lo! the songster was a humpbacked cripple, with a bloody bandage o'er his eye, and both legs gone at the knee." "He! he! he! he! he!" went Sybrandt, laughing and cackling. Margaret's eyes flashed: she began to fold the letter up. "Nay, lass," said Eli, "heed him not!
"There," said Sybrandt, "take back thy letter; and now empty thy pouch. Come I tarry not!" But by this time Hans had recovered his confusion; and from a certain flutter in Sybrandt, and hard breathing of Cornelis, aided by an indescribable consciousness, felt sure the pair he had to deal with were no heroes.
In short, "plenus rimarum erat: huc illuc diffluebat;" and among the miscellaneous matters that oozed out, he must blab that he was entrusted with a letter to a townsman of theirs, one Gerard, a good fellow: he added "you are all good fellows:" and to impress his eulogy, slapped Sybrandt on the back so heartily, as to drive the breath out of his body.
Little Kate knew the share Cornelis and Sybrandt had in banishing Gerard, and though, for fear of making more mischief still, she never told her mother, yet there were times she shuddered at the bare sight of them, and blushed at their hypocritical regrets.
"Change but those letters for me," he said, "and each of you shall thrust one hand into this drawer, and take away as many of them as you can hold." The effect was magical. Their eyes glittered with desire. Their whole bodies seemed to swell, and rise into male energy. "Swear it, then," said Sybrandt. "I swear it." "No; on the crucifix." Ghysbrecht swore upon the crucifix.
Sybrandt took it up, and examined it gravely; but eventually laid it down, with the remark, that he could not read. However, one of the company, by some immense fortuity, could read; and proud of so rare an accomplishment, took it, and read it out: "To Gerard Eliassoen, of Tergou. These by the hand of the trusty Hans Memling, with all speed."
The months rolled on, and Sybrandt improved in spirit, but not in body; he was Margaret's pensioner for life; and a long-expected sorrow fell upon poor Catherine, and left her still more bowed down; and she lost her fine hearty bustling way, and never went about the house singing now; and her nerves were shaken, and she lived in dread of some terrible misfortune falling on Cornelis.
Eli drove Cornelis and Sybrandt out of doors at the point of a sword when he understood their infamy, and heavy silence reigned in his house that night. And where was Clement?
"Why, Giles, are you afeard of me?" At this, Giles's head peeped cautiously up, and he saw it was only his sister Kate. She put her finger to her lips. "Hush! lest the wicked Cornelis or the wicked Sybrandt hear us." Giles's claws seized the side of the bed, and he returned to his place by one undivided gymnastic.
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