The Argosy — page 236: what you’re looking at

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

7 | Caterina. 217 Vids Earty on the morning after Hans’ visit to the picture gallery, the weeping Teresa was dragged down the ladder from her attic, and bundled into a covered waggon at the door. Hans’ horror of her mysterious crime was such that he could not help being harsh. He had expedited her toilet with some hard blows, and he would not suffer her pitying mother to interfere to save her. He was going to take her to board with a cousin in the island of Shiermonigkoog, where she would be out of reach of Truda and her enraged neighbours of the Haagstraat. ‘Let me see the lady once, only once, father,” sobbed poor Teresa, as he sternly ordered her to climb into the waggon. “No, minx, I say no! Thou hast seen her too often. Get in, get in!” “ Here,” said the mother, “is breakfast for the child.” “Go back, Babette, we can breakfast on the road.” He whipped the horse and they rattled off, the sobbing girl raising the covering of the waggon to look despairingly, not at her unhappy mother on the doorstep, but at the roof of the Brocade Fabriek rising above the low houses of the Haagstraat. “Wilt thou at least let her know where I am gone?” asked Teresa, as they jolted out of Amsterdam. ‘Whom dost thou mean, girl?” ‘* Madame Heemskerk, to be sure.” ‘“No, then, I will not let her know. Stop that blubbering this instant.” ‘“‘ Alas, I shall then never know any more about my Jan, and she will learn no more about the Captain.” ‘“‘ Explain!” roared Hans in a fury. “She cannot know anything without my help, nor I without hers That is all I can tell thee.” “Magic, wicked magic,” groaned Hans. ‘‘ Ah, she deserves to die, and die she will. Jam not taking thee away a whit too soon.” ‘“Die? Who would venture to touch my dear mistress? Father, what dost thou mean?” she asked, and quite beside herself, she struggled with the resolute old man in her effort to get out of the waggon. She would have rushed madly along the road in hopes of getting back to Amsterdam. Two days later Van Rennen, who now haunted the Brocade Fabriek, sauntered out of Truda’s kitchen, crossed the back yard of _ the factory, among a litter of enormous bales and boxes, and made his way by the passage into Vrow Steen’s dwelling. He had given up all pretence of work and loitered away his whole time, now stopping a neighbour in the street to ask what hope he thought there was of the return of the Ovange ; now calling on the people for sympathy while GomiilGaooks