The Bow of Orange Ribbon by Amelia Edith Huddleston Barr (best novels to read TXT) 📕

ripple of quickly smothered laughter. How well his soul could see the child, with her white, small hands over her mouth, and her bright hair scattered upon the white pillow!

"_Ach, mijn kind, mijn kind! Mijn liefste kind!_" he whispered. "God Almighty keep thee from sin and sorrow!"


II.

"To be a sweetness more desired than spring,--
This is the flower of life."

Joris Van Heemskirk had not thought of prayer; but, in his vague fear and apprehension, his soul beat at his lips, and its natural language had been that appeal at his daughter's closed door. For Semple's words had been like a hand lifting the curtain in a dark room: only a clouded and uncertain light had been thrown, but in it even familiar objects looked portentous. In these days, the tendency is to tone down and to assimilate, to deprecate every thing positive and demonstrative. But Joris lived when the great motives of humanity stood out sharp and bold, and surrounded by a religious halo.

Many of his people had begun to associate with the governing race, to sit at their banquets, and even to worship in their church; but Joris, in his heart, looked upon such "indifferents" as renegades to their God and their fatherland. He was a Dutchman, soul and body; and no English duke was prouder of his line, or his royal quarterings, than was Joris Van Heemskirk of the race of sailors and patriots from whom he had sprung.

Through his father, he clasped hands with men who had swept the narrow seas with De Ruyter, and sailed into Arctic darkness and icefields with Van Heemskirk. Farther back, among that mysterious, legendary army of patriots called "The Beggars of the Sea," he could proudly name his fore-goers,--rough, austere men, covered with scars, who followed Willemsen to the succour of Leyden. The likeness of one of them, Adrian Van Heemskirk, was in his best bedroom,--the big, square form wrapped in a pea-jacket; a crescent in his hat, with the device, "_Rather Turk than Papist_;" and upon his breast one of those medals, still hoarded in the Low Countries, which bore the significant words, "_In defiance of the Mass_."

He knew all the stories of these men,--how, fortified by their natural bravery, and by their Calvinistic acquiescence in the purposes of Providence, they put out to sea in any weather, braved any danger, fought their enemies wherever they found them, worked like beavers behind their dams, and yet defiantly flung open their sluice-gates, and let in the ocean, to drown out their enemies.

Through his mother, a beautiful Zealand woman, he was related to the Evertsens, the victorious admirals of Zealand, and also to the great mercantile family of Doversteghe; and he thought the enterprise of the one as honourable as the valour of the other. Beside the sailor pictures of Cornelius and Jan Evertsen, and the famous "Keesje the Devil," he hung sundry likenesses of men with grave, calm faces, proud and lofty of aspect, dressed in rich black velvet and large wide collars,--merchants who were every inch princes of commerce and industry.

These lines of thought, almost tedious to indicate, flashed hotly and vividly through his mind. The likes and dislikes, the faiths and aspirations, of past centuries, coloured the present moments, as light flung through richly stained glass has its white radiance tinged by it. The feeling of race--that strong and mysterious tie which no time nor circumstances can eradicate--was so living a motive in Joris Van Heemskirk's heart, that he had been quite conscious of its appeal when Semple spoke of a marriage between Katherine and his own son. And Semple had understood this, when he so cunningly insinuated a common stock and a common form of faith. For he had felt, instinctively, that even the long tie of friendship between them was hardly sufficient to bridge over the gulf of different nationalities.

Then, Katherine was Van Heemskirk's darling, the very apple of his eye. He felt angry that already there should be plans laid to separate her in any way from him. His eldest daughters, Cornelia and Anna, had married men of substance in Esopus and Albany: he knew they had done well for themselves, and had become contented in that knowledge; but he also felt that they were far away from his love and home. Joanna was already betrothed to Capt. Batavius de Vries; Bram would doubtless find himself a wife very soon; for a little while, he had certainly hoped to keep Katherine by his own side. Semple, in speaking of her as already marriageable, had given him a shock. It seemed such a few years since he had walked her to sleep at nights, cradled in his strong arms, close to his great, loving heart; such a little while ago when she toddled about the garden at his side, her plump white hands holding his big forefinger; only yesterday that she had been going to the school, with her spelling-book and Heidelberg in her hand. When Lysbet had spoken to him of the English lady staying with Madam Semple, who was teaching Katherine the new crewel-stitch, it had appeared to him quite proper that such a child should be busy learning something in the way of needlework. "Needlework" had been given as the reason of those visits, which he now remembered had been very frequent; and he was so absolutely truthful, that he never imagined the word to be in any measure a false definition.

Therefore, Elder Semple's implication had stunned him like a buffet. In his own room, he sat down on a big oak chest; and, as he thought, his wrath slowly gathered. Semple knew that gay young English officers were coming and going about his house, and he had not told him until he feared they would interfere with his own plans for keeping Neil near to him. The beautiful little Dutch maiden had been an attraction which he was proud to exhibit, just as he was proud of his imported furniture, his pictures, and his library. He remembered that Semple had spoken with touching emphasis of his longing to keep his last son near home; but must he give up his darling Katherine to further this plan?

"I like not it," he muttered. "God for the Dutchman made the Dutchwoman. That is the right way; but I will not make angry myself for so much of passion, so much of nothing at all to the purpose. That is the truth. Always I have found it so."

Then Lysbet, having finished her second locking up, entered the room. She came in as one wearied and troubled, and said with a sigh, as she untied her apron, "By the girls' bedside I stopped one minute. Dear me! when one is young, the sleep is sound."

"Well, then, they were awake when I passed,--that is not so much as one quarter of the hour,--talking and laughing; I heard them."

"And now they are fast in sleep; their heads are on one pillow, and Katherine's hand is fast clasped in Joanna's hand. The dear ones! Joris, the elder's words have made trouble in my heart. What did the man mean?"

"Who can tell? What a man says, we know; but only God understands what he means. But I will say this, Lysbet, and it is what I mean: if Semple has led my daughter into the way of temptation, then, for all that is past and gone, we shall be unfriends."

"Give yourself no _kommer_ on that matter, Joris. Why should not our girls see what kind of people the world is made of? Have not some of our best maidens married into the English set? And none of them were as beautiful as Katherine. There is no harm, I think, in a girl taking a few steps up when she puts on the wedding ring."

"Mean you that our little daughter should marry some English good-for-nothing? Look, then, I would rather see her white and cold in the dead-chamber. In a word, I will have no Englishman among the Van Heemskirks. There, let us sleep. To-night I will speak no more."

But madam could not sleep. She was quite sensible that she had tacitly encouraged Katherine's visits to Semple House, even after she understood that Captain Hyde and other fashionable and notable persons were frequent visitors there. In her heart she had dreamed such dreams of social advancement for her daughters as most mothers encourage. Her prejudices were less deep than those of her husband; or, perhaps, they were more powerfully combated by her greater respect for the pomps and vanities of life. She thought rather well than ill of those people of her own race and class who had made themselves a place in the most exclusive ranks. During the past ten years, there had been great changes in New York's social life: many families had become very wealthy, and there was a rapidly growing tendency to luxurious and splendid living. Lysbet Van Heemskirk saw no reason why her younger children should not move with this current, when it might set them among the growing aristocracy of the New World.

She tried to recall Katharine's demeanour and words during the past day, and she could find no cause for alarm in them. True, the child had spent a long time in arranging her beautiful hair, and she had also begged from her the bright amber necklace that had been her own girlish pride; but what then? It was so natural, especially when there was likely to be fine young gentlemen to see them. She could not remember having noticed anything at all which ought to make her uneasy; and what Lysbet did not see or hear, she could not imagine.

Yet the past ten hours had really been full of danger to the young girl. Early in the afternoon, some hours before Joanna was ready to go, Katherine was dressed for her visit to Semple House. It was the next dwelling to the Van Heemskirks' on the river-bank, about a quarter of a mile distant, but plainly in sight; and this very proximity gave the mother a sense of security for her children. It was a different house from the Dutchman's, one of those great square plain buildings, so common in the Georgian era,--not at all picturesque, but finished inside with handsomely carved wood-work, and with mirrors and wall-papering brought specially for it from England.

It stood, like Van Heemskirk's, at the head of a garden sloping to the river; and there was a good deal of pleasant rivalry about these gardens, both proprietors having impressed their own individuality upon their pleasure-grounds. Semple's had nothing of the Dutchman's glowing prettiness and quaintness,--no clipped yews and hollies, no fanciful flower-beds and little Gothic summer-house. Its slope was divided into three fine terraces, the descent from one to the other being by broad, low steps; the last flight ending on a small pier, to which the pleasure and fishing boats were fastened. These terraced walks were finely shaded and adorned with shrubs; and on the main one there was a stone sun-dial, with a stone seat around it. Van Heemskirk did not think highly of Semple's garden; and Semple was sure, "that, in the matter o' flowers and fancy clippings, Van Heemskirk had o'er much o' a gude thing." But still the rivalry had always been a good-natured one, and, in the interchange of bulbs and seeds, productive of much friendly feeling.

The space between the two houses was an enclosed meadow; and this afternoon, the grass being warm and dry, and full of wild flowers, Katherine followed the narrow foot-path through it, and entered the Semple garden by the small side gate. Near this gate was a