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And so are you, Mistress Catherine, which are my townswoman, and know it not." "What, are ye from Tergou? all the better, But I cannot call your face to mind." "Oh, you know not me: my husband and me, we are very humble folk by you. But true Eli and his wife are known of all the town; and respected, So, I am at your call, dame; and at yours, wife; and yours, my pretty poppet; night or day."
Then she sank moaning down by the cradle, and drew little Gerard tight to her bosom. "Oh, my poor fatherless boy; my fatherless boy!" Not long after this, as the little family at Tergou sat at dinner, Luke Peterson burst in on them, covered with dust. "Good people, Mistress Catherine is wanted instantly at Rotterdam." "My name is Catherine, young man. Kate, it will be Margaret."
I have told Dirk Brower that Gerard is out of Holland, but much I doubt he is not a league from Tergou." "Why, where is he, then?" "Where should he be, but with her he loves? But if so, he must not loiter. These be deep and dark and wicked men that seek him. Giles, I see that in Dirk Brower's eye makes me tremble. Oh, why cannot I fly to Sevenbergen and bid him away?
"At the foot of the haunted tower." "How did he get the rope?" "I know not; but this I know; my brother Gerard bade me there farewell, and he is many leagues from Tergou ere this. The town, you know, was always unworthy of him, and when it imprisoned him, he vowed never to set foot in it again. Let the burgomaster be content, then.
They were cried on Monday at matins and at vespers; and, to their great delight, nobody from Tergou was in the church. The next morning they were both there, palpitating with anxiety, when, to their horror, a stranger stood up and forbade the banns, On the score that the parties were not of age, and their parents not consenting.
"Am I?" inquired Kate calmly; "that is news to me." "The biggest in Tergou," growled Giles, fastening on again. "Oh, indeed!" said Kate drily. This piece of unwonted satire launched, and Giles not visibly blasted, she sat down quietly and cried. Her mother came in almost at that moment, and Giles hurled himself under the table, and there glared. "What is to do now?" said the dame sharply.
"What need to walk? There is my mule." "Your mule, Martin?" The old soldier or professional pillager laughed, and confessed he had got so used to her, that he forgot at times Ghysbrecht had a prior claim. To-morrow he would turn her into the burgomaster's yard, but to-night she should carry Margaret to Tergou.
Come, gainsay me no more; you will learn what 'tis to disrespect a father." Gerard held his peace, and the three walked home in gloomy silence, broken only by a deep sigh or two from Catherine. From that hour the little house at Tergou was no longer the abode of peace.
Next week they went to Rotterdam, bag and baggage, and lodged above a tailor's shop in the Brede-Kirk Straet. Only one person in Tergou knew whither they were gone. The Burgomaster. He locked the information in his own breast. The use he made of it ere long, my reader will not easily divine: for he did not divine it himself. But time will show.
He then shouted for Martin; and told him what had happened, and begged him to go a little way towards Tergou, and watch the road. "Ay!" said Martin, "and if I see Dirk Brower or any of his men, I will shoot an arrow into the oak-tree that is in our garden; and on that you must run into the forest hard by, and meet me at the weird hunter's spring. Then I will guide you through the wood."
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