The Argosy — page 228: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Caterina. 209 “Teresa came slipping in by our back door like a thief an hour ago, and crept through my kitchen without speaking to me—wme that was used to hear my master say, ‘Good afternoon, Vrow Truda,’ whenever he came in. She ran up to madame’s room, and I heard the bolts drawn, and there they are shut up, hatching mischief. Dost thou wish her to be taught to pray to the Virgin, or worse ?” “What could be worse?” asked Vrow Van Rennen, full of curiosity. “Eh, in the name of God, what could be worse?” cried the mother, trembling. Truda ground her black and ragged teeth and clenched her skinny hand, but she did not answer aloud. Approaching her mouth to Vrow Steen’s ear, she whispered a word that made her rubicund cheeks turn pale. ‘‘ Come with me and see for yourself,” she said. The neighbours retreated to gossip and ponder over Truda’s dark hints, while Vrow Steen followed the housekeeper down the passage leading to the back premises of the warehouse. ‘Taking off their shoes in the kitchen they climbed an old, worm-eaten oak staircase that creaked at every step notwithstanding their precautions, and reached the tapestry chamber where we saw the Heemskerk family on the 17th of May. The easel was in the window, and the October sunshine streamed upon a remarkable picture. A ship was made. fast by her bower anchor to a gigantic iceberg like a cathedral with spires and pinnacles—an enormous mass that towered far above the clumsy vessel, though the Orange was the best ship built in those days. Caterina’s master touch had delineated a very dreary scene. A dazzling sunshine, which yet did not give the idea of warmth, was diffused over endless plains of ice. The women shivered involuntarily as they looked at it. “Ugh!” cried Truda; “that water between the iceblocks is as black as the mouth of hell.” ‘¢ She was thinking of our young master when she painted that ; in truth, she’s a good, fond wife,” returned Vrow Steen. “Thinking of him, eh? Was that all? Come on; thy Teresa is in her bedroom. Lift the arras. So! Caution!” They were admitted to a dark passage off Caterina’s chamber. “Now put thine eye to the keyhole and see for thyself.” Teresa lay on a couch opposite the door, her blue eyes wide open with an inscrutable expression as if she were gazing at some sight of distress and horror far away—beyond the arras—beyond the walls— beyond Amsterdam itself. Her lips were parted, her limbs stretched helpless. Above her stood the Italian, and her white hand was gently moving backwards and forwards. Vrow Steen recoiled from this sight muttering the word ‘‘ magic,” the word that had caused her to grow pale when the housekeeper first breathed it in her ear. “Ay, magic. ‘Thou hast seen for thyself,” hissed Truda. “Ill bring that foreign woman to the dungeon or the stake. She said VOL. XLIX. O GomiilGaooks