The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Tale of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene

by Herbert Strang

  *CHAPTER IX*

  *Monsieur de Polignac Presses his Suit*

  Scenes in Holland--Feeding an Army--A Tulip Bulb--On the Road--TheCaptain's Man--A Break-Down--Double Dutch--The Captain Again--ADiversion--An Entry--An Exit--Hospitality--Confidences--RejectedAddresses--Palmam qui Meruit--Persuaded--Adele

  "Hundred barrels pork, tousand quarters flour, five hunderdweightsausages, twenty gallon schnapps, for de garrison of Breda. Ver well,Monsieur de Tilly, de order shall be done."

  Mynheer Jan Grootz put down the paper from which he had beentranslating, and pushed a pair of horn spectacles up his brow.

  "Mynheer Harry," he continued, "you will see to dis. Such an orderyesterday could not have been met--no. But wid Peter Kolp's man comingfrom Helmund it is to-day anoder ding. In Helmund, wid Peter Kolp, dereis pork, flour--plenty; yes, my poor vrient Kolp dink dere is too much;he alzo would supply de army. 'Grootz,' he say, 'ask too high prices.As for me, Kolp, I am a cheap man. But Grootz, he is a sad rascal.'But I tell you dis: dey say my poor vrient Kolp forget his measures andweights, he dink fourteen ounces weigh one pound, and sometimes, deysay, he dink ten barrel bad pork make twelve good; so my poor vrient isnot now permitted to contract no more; and he sell me his stores.Truly, he is a cheap man! Zo!"

  There was a chuckle of satisfaction in the concluding word.

  "You will start early in de morning, Mynheer Harry," he resumed, "widten carts; Helmund is twenty mile beyond Tilburg, and Tilburg fifteenbeyond Breda. You will get de stores from Kolp at Helmund and returnwid dem to Breda and hand dem over to the commissary dere. Take wid youyour man Sherebiah, and Piet Brinker to show you de road; he will pickdrivers for de carts. We hear noding of forayers lately; zo I hope youhave a safe journey, And, Mynheer Harry, never forget dat poor Kolpcannot count, and do not know good pork from bad, and mistake chalk forflour. You will examine dese little matters wid much care; zo?"

  The merchant replaced his glasses on his nose and proceeded to dictatean invoice to one of his clerks. He sat at a desk in a low-pitched roomnext to the roof of a gabled house near the Gevangen Poort inBergen-op-Zoom. The lower floors were devoted to the living apartments;the warehouse and offices were at the top, goods being raised andlowered by means of a crane-like apparatus that projected from the walllike a yard-arm. It was not Mynheer Grootz's home; that was at theHague; but Bergen-op-Zoom at the head of the eastern arm of the Scheldtwas for the present his business head-quarters, conveniently situated inregard to the scattered armies whose wants he had to supply.

  Map of Part of the LOW COUNTRIES in 1703.]

  It was early in the month of June. For more than three months HarryRochester had been engaged with the worthy Dutchman, who was kept busymorning, noon, and night in provisioning the allied forces now enteringupon a new campaign. He found his employment very much to his taste,and his employer the best of friends. Grootz never alluded to the timewhen his offer of employment had been slighted, and Harry often smiledas he remembered the pride with which, in the days of his highexpectations, he had refused to cast in his lot with a mere merchant.The novelty of the scenes amid which he found himself on his arrival inHolland had banished his ambitions for the time. The flat country, withits dunes and dykes, its endless canals and innumerable windmills; itsquaint towns, in which chimneys and steeples and masts seemed socuriously jumbled; the stolid, hospitable people--the men with their bigpipes and snuff-boxes, the women with their characteristic head-dress,the girls with the riband of maidenhood at their right brow; the strangecustoms--the _spionnen_ at the windows, an arrangement of mirrors bywhich from the upper rooms all that passed in the street below could beseen within; the placard at the door when a child was born; theincessant scrubbing that went on indoors and out; the _trekschuiten_ and_pakschuiten_ that conveyed goods and passengers along the canals, drawnsometimes by horses, more often by a stout mynheer and his vrouw; thestorks nesting among the chimney-pots; the stiff formal gardens withtheir beds of tulips--everything interested him; his low spiritsvanished into thin air, and he enjoyed life with a zest he had neverknown before.

  His duties had taken him into many parts of the country. In March he wasat the Hague when the Duke of Marlborough returned to resume command ofthe forces, and he did not even feel a pang when, a humble member of thecrowd, he saw the great soldier whose forgetfulness or insincerity hadso woefully disappointed him. He knew the potteries of Delft, and thecheese-factories of Gouda; he had heard the great organ of Haarlem, andthe sweet carillons of Antwerp, and practised skating for the first timeon a frozen arm of the Y. Finding it difficult to get on without aknowledge of Dutch, the only language understood by his teamsters andthe country people, he had thrown himself energetically into the studyof the language; and he had, besides, picked up a smattering of everydayGerman phrases from one of his men, a German Swiss. After his naturalBritish diffidence in adventuring on a foreign tongue had worn off, hedelighted to air his new accomplishment with the comely juffrouws whomhe met in the course of his journeys. He dropped into the routine ofthe business so rapidly that Mynheer Grootz once told him he was a bornmerchant--a compliment which, to his own surprise, did not give theleast shock to his dignity.

  His intelligence and energy completely won the old Dutchman'sconfidence, and more than once he had been entrusted with the deliveryof supplies to the army in the field. It was not always possible forthe military authorities to furnish convoys for these consignments, andthey were therefore usually accompanied by well-armed men to guardagainst the danger of surprise by robbers and freebooters. Many smallbands of outlaws were abroad in Holland and Germany, taking advantage ofthe disturbed state of the country to prey upon the inhabitants, underthe pretence of making requisitions for one or other of the contendingforces. These marauders terrorized the remoter districts. HithertoHarry had been fortunate in avoiding any danger of this character.Grootz was as phlegmatic and silent as ever, but he showed in his quietway that he was pleased with the lad's unvarying diligence and success.

  Harry woke early. The sun was bright but the air cool, and he felt fullof vigour, eager to set off on this the longest expedition he had yettaken. Mynheer Grootz was a bachelor, and his breakfast-table wasserved by a buxom old housekeeper who, after a brief season of jealousy,had capitulated to Harry's cheerfulness and courtesy. At breakfast themerchant in his slow, ponderous manner repeated his customary warningsto Harry to guard against surprise, and to be punctilious about gettinga formal receipt for his supplies from the commissary of the force towhich they were to be delivered.

  "Here is de paper," he said, handing it to Harry. "Make him sign it; hemay be a count or marquis or someding of de sort, and I trust none ofdem."

  Harry laughed. "Put not your trust in princes" seemed to be the primemotto of his host's business career.

  "Very well, Mynheer," he said.

  "And here is a packet I wish you to deliver. Not for de army, dis; no;it is for a vrient of mine dat live a few miles dis side of Helmund. Ipromised her a tulip bulb; dis is it."

  He handed to Harry a small packet, on which the address was written.

  "The Comtesse de Vaudrey," he read aloud. "That is a French name?"

  "Ja! De lady is French, a widow, of a family dat had to leave Francebecause of the persecutions. She is French, but a vrient alzo. If youneed help, she will give it."

  "I hope she is not a very great lady. I have met no lady here higher inrank than a burgomaster's vrouw, and I thought she rather looked down onme."

  "The comtesse is mine vrient," repeated Grootz in a tone that impliedthere was no more to be said.

  A few minutes afterwards they left the breakfast-room. At the outer doorten empty wagons were already waiting with their drivers, and as Harryprepared to mount to his place on the foremost, Sherebiah came up withthe remains of his breakfast in his hand. Grootz repeated his warnings;Harry smiled and waved his good-bye to Gretel the housekeeper, who stoodat the door wit
h her hands folded in front of her ample person, and theline of carts moved off.

  The Harry Rochester in charge of the convoy was a different being fromthe pale thin youth who had left England four months before. His workhad had the effect of hardening his muscles and developing his physique;and constant exposure to the air and sun had browned his cheeks andbrightened his eye. But Sherebiah presented a still greater contrast.From the moment of landing on Dutch soil he had ceased to shave, withthe result that his lips and cheeks and chin were now covered with athick growth of stiff brown hair. Harry did not like the change, butwhen he asked the reason of this departure from old habit Sherebiahmerely said that he had concluded shaving to be a waste of time. Thereply was hardly satisfactory, but Sherebiah was never communicativeunless he wished to be so, and Harry let the matter drop.

  The roads were heavy, and the horses were of the large-limbed varietythat spell endurance rather than pace. Empty as the wagons were, onlytwenty miles were made that day, and Harry decided to stay for the nightat the Crown Inn at Breda. The town was garrisoned by four battalionsof infantry, four regiments of cavalry, and a regiment of dragoons, andit was for these that the supplies were required. Harry sought out thecommissary, and promising to deliver the goods within two days, went fora stroll through the town, leaving Sherebiah to bespeak supper at theinn. He roamed through the winding streets, one of which ended with awindmill; admired the warm-toned old house-fronts; William the Third'schateau, encircled by the river Merk; and the fine Hervormde Kerk, withits lofty octagon tower and bulbous spire. On returning to the inn hewas met by Sherebiah in some excitement.

  "What med 'ee think, sir? Who'd 'ee believe I ha' seed?"

  "Well?"

  "John Simmons, sir, large as life."

  "Captain Aglionby's man--the man who got a crack on the head on theRoman road?"

  "The very same."

  "I have often wondered how he managed to escape from old Nokes theconstable. 'Twas whispered that the captain himself had a hand in it.I suppose he came to this country for safety."

  "Ay, not for riches, so 'twould seem," replied Sherebiah ratherhurriedly. "A' was down at heel, more like a ragged vagrom than thesmart soul as drank his pint at the Berkeley Arms. Mother Jopladycouldn' abide un."

  "Did he see you?"

  "Not him. Nor I don't want to see un, the mumpen cockney.--Supper'sready, sir."

  Next morning Harry proceeded with his convoy along the Eyndhoven roadand arrived late at his destination, Helmund. Almost the whole of thefollowing day was occupied in loading his wagons and procuring extracarts to carry the stores collected by Grootz's client, Peter Kolp. Athis first interview with that "poor friend" of Mynheer Grootz, Harrymade it clear that, as a matter of form, the provisions would becarefully tested in quality and quantity, with the result that they werefound to be excellent and full weight. It was four o'clock before hewas ready to start for Breda. He followed a different route on hisreturn journey. Madame de Vaudrey's house, Lindendaal, lay on the upperroad toward Boxtel--a safer road to travel, as a report had come in thatthe French had made their appearance near Turnhout, to the south, andwere coming apparently in the direction of Eyndhoven.

  Unluckily, the convoy had proceeded only a few miles on its return toBreda when, as it was crossing the Aa river, one of the horses tookfright and toppled the cart into the water. Fortunately the stream wassluggish and shallow, but Harry saw that it would take some time toextricate the wagon from the mud and collect what part of its load wasworth saving. Leaving Piet Brinker in charge of the work, he decided topush on himself with the remainder of the convoy, deliver the packet hecarried for Madame de Vaudrey, and wait for the rescued wagon toovertake him. He knew that, with the hospitality universal in Holland,the countess would not allow him to proceed unrefreshed, and he was intruth not a little glad of the opportunity of seeing the lady whomGrootz had so emphatically called his friend. He therefore drove on.The wagon wheels ploughed deep furrows in the heavy sandy roads, and thebig Dutch horses plodded on steadily but slowly. The road wound by andby through avenues of elms, pruned of their branches in the Dutch way,and looking to Harry's English eyes very starved and ugly. At length hecame to a wall on the right that appeared to enclose a park of someconsiderable size. A peasant was passing, whom he hailed, asking inDutch whether this was the house of Madame de Vaudrey. The man lookedstolidly at him without replying. Sherebiah repeated the question,using a different phrase. The Hollander answered at once that thiscertainly was Lindendaal, the chateau of the French lady. Harry sprangfrom his wagon, ordered the drivers to draw up by the side of the road,which was here parallel with a narrow canal, and entered the gateaccompanied by Sherebiah.

  "I'll tell you one thing that puzzles me, Sherry," he remarked, as theypassed up an avenue bounded on both sides by a breast-high balustrade ofstone. "You and I have been in this country the same time, and seeneach as much as the other of the people, and yet you have beat mealtogether in picking up the language, hard as I have worked at it. Idon't understand it."

  "Ah well, Master Harry," said Sherebiah, "'tis like that sometimes, so'tis. You be a scholard, with book larnen and all that; I be, true, apoor common mortal, but mebbe my ear be quicker 'n some."

  "Still, the time is rather short for you to have learnt to speak thelanguage so well as you do. Your knowledge has grown as quickly as yourbeard."

  "True now, mebbe so; Samson in the Holy Book growed amazen clever wi'his locks; but I never thowt afore as how it med be the same in thesedays."

  Harry laughed.

  "It looks very English, doesn't it?" he said, pointing to the house. Itwas square, with a veranda painted blue, under which were severalwindows opening to the ground. In front was an open semicircular space,around which were parterres of brilliant flowers; these were separatedfrom the park and orchard by a prolongation of the balustrades thatlined the drive. There were dormer windows in the roof, and at oneangle rose a kind of belfry surmounted by a weathercock.

  "Give me the packet, Sherry; you had better remain at the door while Igo in."

  "Ay, or mebbe I med find my lone way to the kitchen?"

  "No, no; remain at the door until I have seen Madame de Vaudrey. Ican't have you coquetting with her maids."

  Harry went to the door, which stood open, the afternoon having beenwarm. A spare, anxious-looking man-servant came in answer to his ring.

  "Is Madame de Vaudrey within?" he asked in Dutch.

  The man's accent when he replied in the affirmative left no doubt thathe was a Frenchman. Harry explained his errand in French, whereupon theman said in the same language that his mistress was for the momentengaged, but that if Monsieur would wait no doubt she would see himshortly. He led Harry through the wide hall, up a handsome oakstaircase into a little ante-room, where, begging him to be seated, heshut the door upon the visitor.

  Harry was immediately aware of voices engaged in conversation on theother side of the folding-doors that formed one wall of the room. Atfirst the sounds came to him as murmurs in different tones, but after atime they became louder, and though he could not distinguish the wordsit was plain that one at least of the speakers was very angry. Atlength he heard the fierce clanging of a bell below; a few momentsafter, the manservant came running into the ante-room and threw open thefolding-doors. Harry, looking into what was evidently the drawing-room,saw a group of four. One was clearly the lady of the house, short,stout, dressed in a costume little resembling the Dutch housewife'susual attire. She was very angry, talking vehemently, and gesticulatingwith her plump white hand. By her side stood a younger lady, half ahead taller, slim and graceful, perfectly still and collected, thoughher cheeks were flushed. Opposite to the two ladies, their backs to thefour windows which lit the other end of the room, were two men, one verytall and lean, with thin lips. The other was but little shorter and agood deal stouter. Harry's attention had been at first attracted to theladies; the burlier of the two men was the last of the four to
benoticed; and it was with a shock of amazement that he recognized in hisfigure and blotched red face no other than Captain Aglionby.

  "Allez-vous-en, allez-vous-en!" the elder lady was repeating. "Quittezma maison, tout de suite; je vous l'ordonne, je l'exige, je le veuxabsolument; retirez-vous, messieurs, d'ici, et au plus vite!"

  Aglionby laughed. None of the four had yet caught sight of Harrystanding back in the darker ante-room. The lady turned to the manservantand ordered him to eject the unwelcome visitors. The servant hesitatedto attempt a task clearly beyond his strength. Aglionby put his hand onhis sword, and then laughed again brutally as he recognized that he hadnothing to fear. All the time the taller man stood quietly watching thescene, occasionally moistening his lips; and the girl remained in thesame tense immobility, her eyes never leaving the face of Aglionby.

  Harry felt it was time to intervene.

  "Perhaps I may be allowed--" he began. At the first word the captainswung round as if on a pivot and stared. His puffed crimson face turneda sea-green as he saw advancing towards him, fresh, lithe, confident,the youth whom he fondly imagined by this time leading a slave's life ina Barbados plantation. The other man did not stir; but the two ladieslooked towards the speaker with a sort of startled surprise. Steppingtowards the elder, Harry continued:

  "Perhaps I may be allowed to offer my services. If Madame will be sogood as to retire, I will--reason with these gentlemen."

  Madame de Vaudrey clasped her hands and looked indecisively at thenew-comer, as though doubting the propriety of accepting theintervention of a stranger. Harry was on the point of explaining who hewas, when the matter was settled in an unexpected way. The girl movedto her mother's side and took her by the hand. Then, turning to Harry,she said in clear, cold tones:

  "If Monsieur will rid the house of these two men he will do my mother agreat service. Come, Mamma!" And then, without another glance at anyof the three, she led Madame de Vaudrey, still half-resisting, from theroom.

  The colour had been gradually returning to Aglionby's face, and when theladies had disappeared his purple hue was deeper than ever. But thesurprise of Harry's presence was so great that for the moment thedoughty captain was nonplussed; his anger was at boiling-point, but hewas clearly at a loss what course to take. His companion stoodexpectant, a slight smile still on his face--a smile rendered peculiarlydisagreeable by a twitching of the mouth that drew one cornerperceptibly upwards towards the left ear.

  The interval of silence seemed longer than it really was.

  "I am sure, gentlemen," said Harry with great urbanity, "you will seethe propriety of at once relieving Madame de Vaudrey of your presence."

  Then the storm broke. Glaring with rage, unable to stand still,stuttering in his speech, Aglionby roared:

  "You insolent puppy, you low-born cully, you--how dare you speak to me!What are you doing here? Stap me, I'll run you through the midriff andrid the world of a bit of vermin!"

  "I shall be delighted to give you an opportunity--outside," said Harryquietly. "Meanwhile, the door is open, and by making your exit you willplease not Madame de Vaudrey only, but me and, it appears, yourself."

  "Adsbud, I'll--I'll----" stuttered Aglionby, half drawing his sword.Harry had his right hand on the hilt of his own weapon, the third manwas still watching the scene, when an unlooked-for diversion occurred.Harry was between the two rooms, the two men opposite him with theirbacks to the drawing-room windows, which were open. It happened that aflight of steps led up from the garden to a balcony beneath thesewindows. At this critical moment a fourth man came suddenly into theroom from the outside. Before any of the three could perceive what washappening, the new-comer, with a long acrobatic spring, simultaneouslyimprisoned in his arms the necks of Aglionby and his companion, andhalf-throttling them dragged them past Harry, through the ante-room,into the corridor, and down the staircase. Harry followed, himselfsomewhat amazed at their helter-skelter progress--bumping down thestairs, struggling vainly in Sherebiah's vice-like grip, swaying againstthe balusters first on one side then on the other, the wood-workcreaking and groaning under the pressure. Half-way down the men losttheir feet altogether, and were incapable of resisting the rush withwhich their captor hauled them across the vestibule and through the opendoor, where he pulled up with a sudden jerk and shot them down theflight of shallow steps on to the drive in front. The whole proceedingscarcely occupied more than half a minute, so sudden had been the onset,so helpless were the two men, gasping half-strangled in Sherebiah'smerciless hug.

  Harry ran down the stairs, expecting to find his man engaged in a battleroyal before the house. But when he reached the door he saw Aglionbyand the Frenchman already halfway down the drive towards the road. Theyhad not waited, then, to demand satisfaction of him. Smiling at hisrecollection of their headlong descent, he went upstairs again, and wasmet by Madame de Vaudrey, who had come from another room at the sound ofscuffling. She was very pale.

  "They are gone, Madame," said Harry at once, to reassure her.

  "Oh, Monsieur, I thank you, I thank you with good heart! Your help atthe precise moment was so precious. I cannot thank you too much."

  "It was my servant, Madame--a very useful fellow. He did it all himself.I am glad we happened to be at hand. This unforeseen incident hasprevented me, Madame, from explaining my presence here. I have calledto leave a packet entrusted to me by Mynheer Grootz, a friend of yours,I think."

  "Oh! it is my tulip bulb. Mynheer Grootz promised to send it me. Yes,he is a friend of mine indeed. But are those men really gone? Willthey not overpower your brave servant? They are bad men--oh, they arebad! I fear them."

  "I saw them going down the drive. And my man knows how to take care ofhimself," said Harry. "They will not trouble you again at present. Andnow, Madame, as I have Mynheer Grootz's packet in the ante-room, if youwill allow me to place it in your hands I will take my leave and proceedon my way."

  "Mon Dieu, non!" cried the lady. "You must allow me to give you somerefreshment, and your brave man too--if he is really safe! Jean," shecalled to the servant, "bring wine and cakes and fruit to thedrawing-room. But first see if this gentleman's servant is safe."

  "He is, Madame," replied the man at once. "The men from the stables andthe garden were coming to the door: Mademoiselle had fetched them: andthey were too many for Monsieur de Polignac and the other."

  "How thankful I am! Bring the brave man up with you. Now, Monsieur--Ido not know your name?"

  "It is Harry Rochester, Madame; I am English."

  "Indeed! Come into the drawing-room and rest. Jean will bringsomething to eat and drink immediately."

  She led the way into the room, gave Harry a comfortable chair, and satopposite to him, folding her plump hands on her lap, and heaving a sighof satisfaction and relief. The servant soon reappeared with a tray,and when Madame de Vaudrey had seen Harry supplied with drink and foodthat pleased him, she dismissed her man, read the letter Mynheer Grootzhad enclosed with his gift, and began to talk.

  "You are English? That is interesting. My dear husband's mother wasEnglish, so that my daughter has a little--a very little, ofcourse--English blood in her. I cannot tell you how thankful I am thatyou came when you did. That is also another debt I owe to MynheerGrootz. He writes very amiable things of you. I was at my wits' end,Monsieur Rochestair; I will tell you about it.--Do you like that wine?"

  "Thank you, it is excellent."

  "I am so glad! You speak French very well for an Englishman. Mydaughter wishes to learn English. She takes after her father, not afterme. I wonder where she is?"

  Harry followed her glance to the door; he too had wondered what hadbecome of the tall girl who had shown so much decisiveness of characterat an awkward moment. But she did not appear.

  "Well," continued the amiable hostess, "let me tell you all about it."

  Mynheer Grootz's recommendation was clearly a passport to her favour.She leant back in her high chair, and in her clear,
well-modulated voicetold Harry what he was, it must be confessed, curious to hear. It wasthree years since her husband, the Comte de Vaudrey, died. He was astudent, not a man of affairs; and his fortune suffered through his lackof business-like qualities. The estate, a small one, purchased by hisfather when as a Huguenot he fled from France at the revocation of theEdict of Nantes, was now much encumbered. Monsieur de Vaudrey hadbought the best perspective glasses and other expensive scientificinstruments, had spent large sums on rare books and specimens, and hadso embarrassed himself that he had to apply to the Amsterdam bankers,who advanced him money on a mortgage of the estate. Not long afterwardshe died.

  "It is only a year ago," continued Madame de Vaudrey, "that we learntthat we were to have a neighbour. The estate adjoining our own had beenin the market for many years, and we heard that it had at last beenpurchased by a Monsieur de Polignac, a Frenchman, and a Huguenot likeourselves. We were rejoiced at the news; a neighbour of our own raceand faith would be so charming, we thought. And so indeed he was, atfirst. I thought his visits to his estate too few; he was so often atthe Hague; when he came to see us he was so debonair, so gracious, thatI liked him well. With my daughter, quite the contrary. It wasprejudice, I told her; but from the first she looked on him coldly.Then all at once he became a more frequent visitor, and I saw--yes, amother's eyes are keen--that he had pretensions to my daughter's hand.I did not oppose him; he was rich, noble, a Huguenot; but Adele--certes,Monsieur Rochestair, no maiden could ever have given less encouragement.The first time he was refused he smiled--he does not look well when hesmiles, think you?--and said that he would still hope. But though Ithought the match a good one, I would not persuade my daughter: she isall I have, Monsieur, and so young. He went away; then a few days ago Iam astonished to see him reappear in company with Captain Aglionby, whois visiting him. Now first I begin really to dislike Monsieur dePolignac."

  "Did you know Captain Aglionby before, then?" asked Harry in surprise.

  "Yes; that is why. I know him, and I think no friend of his can be agood man. Captain Aglionby stayed for a month in this house some fiveyears ago. No, he was not a welcome guest; he was brought here torecover from a wound he had received in a skirmish near by; ah,Monsieur, he is an odious man! I hate his loud voice, his turbulence,his rodomontade; imagine, three times, Monsieur, three times heintoxicated himself in my house, and excused himself with the plea thathe had done so many times with the Czar of Muscovy. He used to forcehimself into my husband's study, meddle with his things, spoil hisscientific experiments--my husband was discovering a plan to get goldfrom sea-water, and we should have been so rich! But the odious captainruined all. I am sure he did, for the experiments came to nothing."

  "Why did you put up with it?"

  "Alas! what could we do? My husband was a man of tranquil soul who hadlived so long with his books that he could not deal with men. As forme--you see me, a poor helpless woman! and Adele was then only eleven!judge then my surprise and alarm when I see Captain Aglionby in companywith Monsieur de Polignac. Still more to-day, when Monsieur de Polignaccomes once more to urge his suit. Adele refuses him with scorn. Andthen--oh, the villain!--he tells me he has bought from the Jews ofAmsterdam the mortgage on this estate, and if Adele will not be hiswife, then he turns us out--think of it, Monsieur; turns two defencelesswomen out. This it is that changes me, a weak woman, into a fury, as yousee."

  Harry forbore to smile at Madame de Vaudrey's placid impersonation of afury.

  "They are a couple of villains indeed," he said. "It was trulyfortunate that I came with Sherebiah at the right moment."

  "Yes, indeed; a thousand thanks! And only think of it: just before youcame Captain Aglionby, odious man, had dared to hint that when we werethrust out of our home he would do me the honour to marry me. Truly anhonour! No, I never forget my dear husband; no, never! Ah, this is thedear brave man, your servant?"

  The door had opened, and Sherebiah came in awkwardly, turning his hatbetween his hands. Madame de Vaudrey rose and, smiling upon him, said:

  "I give you a thousand thanks. You are a hero; how strong! how bold!"

  Sherebiah bobbed.

  "Madame de Vaudrey thanks you," said Harry.

  "'Tis handsome of the lady, sir, and I'm obleeged, and axes you to putmy sarvices into French lingo, sir."

  He bobbed again.

  "What about Captain Aglionby?" asked Harry.

  "Well, sir, I reckon he be madder than a March hare. Nigh to busthisself, and hot as pepper. Would ha' slashed me, man o' peace as I be,if 'tweren't for half a dozen Dutch coofs wi' pitchforks and otherarticles o' warfare drawn up below, wi' the young lady at their head.Ay, she be a warrior bold, sure enough: I never seed such a piece offemale manliness all my life long. 'Twas with a flashen eye and a pinkrose on each pretty cheek her stood and ordered 'em out. Ay, anuncommon upstanden piece o' womankind her be, to be sure."

  Harry was glad that Madame de Vaudrey's ignorance of English could notfathom this plain-spoken tribute to her daughter's charms.

  "They are really gone, then?" he said.

  "Why, yes, both on 'em; the long beetle chap as well. He be a next-doorneighbour, it seems, and a mighty unpleasant neighbour he mustbe.--Thank 'ee kindly, mum," he added, as Madame de Vaudrey offered hima glass of wine, "but if 'ee don't mind, I'd rather wet my whistle witha mug of beer in the kitchen."

  The lady smiled when this was interpreted.

  "You English are like the Hollanders in that," she said. "Certainly.Jean, take the brave man to the kitchen and treat him well."

  Sherebiah pulled his forelock and departed with alacrity.

  "We must shortly be going on our way, Madame," said Harry. "I have aconvoy of provisions for the garrison at Breda, and my wagoners are evennow growing impatient, I doubt not."

  "But, Monsieur, I cannot hear of it. You cannot reach Breda to-night;and suppose those odious men return? You must be tired. Do me thefavour to stay here for the night; and we can find a bed for your manalso."

  "But the wagons?"

  "Let them go on to the village; it is but half a league away. They canremain at the inn there. Monsieur, I insist; and besides, I have towrite a letter of thanks to my friend Mynheer Grootz."

  Harry had no reason for refusing an invitation so cordial. Madame deVaudrey beamed when he accepted, and, begging to be excused, went off tomake arrangements with her servants. Left to himself, Harry lookedround the room. It was richly furnished; the tables, cabinets, andchairs were of French make, in highly polished rose-wood; chairs andsofas were covered with crimson velvet, and two cabinets were filledwith beautiful porcelain and Dutch china. The pictures upon the wallswere all French, except one--a portrait, evidently by a Dutch hand andof a comparatively recent date. It represented a man's head, with darkcomplexion and wistful melancholy eyes. Harry was attracted to it by aslight resemblance to his father; not in the features, which were quiteunlike, but in the curious sadness of the expression. His thoughts werecarried back to his old home at Winton St. Mary, and the quiet life withhis father there; a mist came before his eyes, and he fell into areverie, standing thus before the picture.

  So rapt was he in recollection that he did not hear the door open behindhim, nor turn to see the entrance of Adele de Vaudrey. For a moment thegirl stood in the doorway, holding the handle. An onlooker would haveseen a strange shifting of expression upon her face as she paused inhesitation whether to advance or retire, to speak or to remain silent.It was but for a moment; her lips softened, her long lashes drooped downupon her eyes; and closing the door as noiselessly as she had opened itshe slipped away.