The Argosy — page 232: what you’re looking at

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

Caterina. 213 these civic feasts ran greatly upon the dangers and honours of Jacob and his gallant crew. As winter advanced, the subject was felt to be a most painful one. The burghers pitied Caterina deeply. They thought it very likely that she was their brave townsman’s widow, for how could the Orange bear the onset of the icebergs? how could the men exist in the region of eternal frost? Caterina found it very hard to hide from these kind, good men what she knew. Hardest of all was it for her when the Stadholder, Maurice of Nassau, on one occasion, took a seat by her side, and spoke of his hopes and fears for Jacob, saying she must feel glad and proud to be the wife of such a hero. ‘‘God grant he may return to you and to Holland, madame,” he concluded, “but if not—if not—he will be one more of a glorious list of heroes who have laid down their lives for Fatherland.” And she could have replied: “I know my husband lives, but his ship is wedged firmly ; she cannot move till spring.” She could have said this, for she had that very morning again seen Jacob with ‘Teresa’s eyes. ‘Strange woman, that foreign wife of Captain Heemskerk’s,” said Madame Sperling to the Mayor’s lady. ‘‘ With what an odd expres- sion she listens to the Stadholder.” _ “ Ah, my Jacob,” murmured Caterina the night on which she had been honoured by Prince Maurice’s marked attentions ; ‘‘my Jacob, it was hard not to tell him what I knew. Only the knowledge of my danger kept me silent, for that brave man would have loved to hear that thou livest. Will Teresa obey my strict commands, and keep silence too? A secret is perilous when shared with another.” V. It was eight o’clock on a stormy spring evening, and gusts swept up and down the dark, narrow Haagstraat, but did not sweep the inhabitants indoors. Some exciting topic kept them without, and many colloquies were taking place under the overhanging eaves of the curious old houses, where a lantern swung from a rope stretched across the stree at wide intervals. ‘The Haagstraat was so narrow and dark, that one er two of the lanterns had already been lighted, though it was only eight o’clock of a spring evening. The rain was blown in gusts, but the interest of the theme under discussion caused the people to forget weather. They were talking of the doings of the Brocade Fabriek, of ‘Teresa’s mysterious interviews with the Italian lady, of which Truda told them. ‘The housekeeper had first hinted the matter darkly ; then she had openly ; and the incautious words dropped by the simple girl herself had completed the mischief. This topic sufficed to draw the Van Rennens from their chimney GomiilGaooks