Thomas, each armed with an oar, worked their way through the thousands of boats, barges and ships which crowded the Harbour.
Once free from these obstacles, we hoisted sail: the wind was favourable and we made good way. In another ten minutes we had doubled the low point which had hitherto blocked our view and were saillng on the open Zuider Zee.
In half-an-hour we were in the Strait between Tidam and the Island of Marken. Olifus laid a finger on my arm.
"Do you see those tall reeds yonder?" he asked.
"On the shore of the Island you mean? yes, I can see them."
"That is where I found her."
"Found whom?"
"H'sh! h'sh!"
Joachim had noticed his father's gesture and turning in our direction had shrugged his shoulders most disrespectfully and cast a look of reproach at his father.
"Well, well, what now, boys?" exclaimed the latter, "there's no harm done,"—and not another word was said. In five minutes more we were in the little inlet and could make out the village nestling on our left. Several times the young men had turned their looks to the South. They did not seem exactly afraid, but were evidently anxious.
"What is wrong with your boys?" I asked, "they appear to be on the look out for something."
"Yes, they are on the look out for something they would as lief not see."
"And what is that? "
"The wind, the south wind; to-night the dykes will want looking to most likely. So much the better for us ... "
"Why so?"
"Oh we shall be left at peace and can talk at our ease."
"Then it doesn't annoy you to talk about ..."
"Annoy me? on the contrary it eases my heart. But they, they seem one and all to have taken sides with that confounded carrion of a Buchold. There I have let the word slip out, and they have heard it. Look how Simon and Jude are scowling at me. Yet they are the youngest, they are not yet twenty. Well, they are just as bad as the others."
"Whom do you mean by the Buchold, eh?"
The lads looked round with an angry frown.
"Now why need you go repeating the word? you are going to make yourself finely welcome, you are."
Indeed our five sailor lads seemed to be very much annoyed; so I said no more. We were drawing up to the little village, which as we came nearer seemed to rise out of the waters.
"Don't seem to be looking," Père Olifus said to me, "but cast a glance to your left."
I did so and saw a grave-yard. The old man winked triumphantly. "That's where she lies," he said. I understood, but contented myself with a little nod by way of answer. Our dialogue however brief, and wordless on my part, as it had been, had not escaped Thomas, who doubtless by way of protest against the feelings of satisfaction his father seemed to experience, heaved a sigh and made the sign of the Cross.
"So, your children are Catholics? " I asked him.
"Oh, good Lord! yes, don't speak of it, there is nothing they don't do to make me mad, the rascals. However I have no right to blame them; it's not their fault but their mother's."
"Ah! their mother was . . ."
"The day I found her, I left her unguarded for just a moment. In that moment; bless me! if the Cure did not take and baptize her."
"Father! father!" protested Philip, who sat nearest to us, turning round sharply.
"Be easy!" said the old man, "we are only talking of St. John who baptized our Lord in the Jordan,—nothing else, I assure you."
So saying he got up in the boat and waved his cap.
"Ho, Margaret!" he shouted, bailing a handsome girl of nineteen or twenty, who was standing at the threshold of her door. "Get your best bed-room ready and cook a good supper; I am bringing you a customer."
Then turning to me, he added, "Go on ahead and wait for me in your room. While the boys are at the dykes, I will come up and see you and while we smoke a pipe and drink a glass of schnapps I will tell you all about it."
