The Cloister and the Hearth

and crunching: at this moment, a hound uttered a bay so near and loud it rang through the house; and the three at the window shrank together. Then the leopard feared for her suppe

not be caught within a league of their house. They grasped hands. Margare

rank to woman's wit: "'Tis stro

when those she loves a

ever of her, and happy as a prince. Some little distance from home, under th

s father

what could

l fell

hey stood grim and silent. He st

s father; "you kno

er, with a voice full of re

rt quaked: h

tied his confusion

e not the first young fool that has been cau

it was witchcraft. Peter the Ma

dle with women-folk. But give us your promise to go no more to Sev

promise th

it, you you

teful am I to that good friend, whoever he be, that has let you wot. 'Tis a load off my mind. Yes,

, gainsay me no more; you will lear

lked home in gloomy silence, broken onl

arf's, who was apt to take his cue from her without knowing why. As for Cornelis and Sybrandt, they were bitterer than their father. Gerard was dismayed at finding so many enemies, and looked wistfully int

pray to Heaven to cu

d, sadly; and he rose with a deep sigh, an

t first starting, and then it is that a calm, judicious, friend, capable of seeing both sides, is a gift from Heaven. For, the longer the dissension endures, the wider a

d girl: he dared not tell her what he had to endure at home; she was capable of siding with his relations by resigning him, though at the cost of her own happiness. Margaret Van Eyck had been a great comfort to him on another occasion; but now he dared not make her his confidante. Her own history was well known. In early life she had many

ly: still less could she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard at times, and so helped him; for anger is a great sustainer of the courage: at others, she turned round in a moment and made onslau

Nought but wait for your father's shoon. Oh, we can see why you and Sybrandt would not have the poor boy to marry. You are afraid he will com

itation, came the climax. The father told the son before the whole family he had ordered the burgomaster to imprison him in the Stadthouse rather than let him marry Margar

it, and not love and duty, try force, father; but force shall not serve you, for the day I see the burgomaster come for me, I leave Tergou for ev

the room white with

d. But men are crueller than tigers, even to their own flesh and bl

Eyck desired to see him. He found the old lady seated grim as a judge. She wasted no time in preliminaries, but inquired coldly why

d the picture of dou

er you were in love," said Reic

s his affairs? We are not his friends

said Gerard, "I did not

It is it fo

o every day

d to tell my mistress; she is

was afraid beca

you wer

h you scorned love

s. They have gone and left me long ago; for my art. It has all but left me too. I have the knowledge still, but what avails that when the hand trembles. No, Gerard: I look on you as my son. You are good, you are handsome, you are a painter, though not

d to praise Margaret aloud, and to one w

yes over his story; and when the p

ourage. They never take part in a bull-fight by any chance; but it is remarked that they sit at one unshaken by those tremors, and apprehensions for the combatants, to which the male spectator-feeble

ard's only course was to marry Margaret Brandt off-hand; the old people would come to after a while, the deed once done. Wh

thin they have mad

see a young man so wasted and worn. Mistress, when I met him in the

hers keep their colour; e

e no odds

worry of little minds; and it is not for the good of mankind we should be exposed to it. It is hard enough, Heave

e listened to these friendly voices telling him the prudent cou

sband, who would never thrive, weighed down by his parent's curse. Madam! I sometimes think if I could but marry her secretly and then take her away to some country where my craft is better paid than in this; and after a year or two, when the storm had blown over, you k

ady's eye

pirit to carry out your own thought. There is a country, Gerard, where certain fortune awaits you at this

cried Gerard.

Know you not that his Holiness the Pope has written to every land for skilful scribes to copy the hundreds of precious manuscript

ope of my life to visit Italy, the queen of all the ar

e to lay my hand on ten golden angels: they will take you t

recovered his spirits, and seemed to carry a secret talisman against

s colour on. Most of them are quite content to have their work sucked up and lost, sooner than not be in a hurry. Bad painters are always in a hurry. Above all, Gerard, I warn you use but little oil, and never boil it; boiling it melts that vegetable dross into its very heart, which it is our business to clear away; for impure oil is death to colour. No; take your oil and pour it into a bottle with water. In a day or two, the water will turn muddy: that is muck from the oil. Pour the dirty water carefully away, and add fresh. When that is poured away, you will fancy the oil is clear. You are mistaken. Reicht, fetch me that!" Reicht brought a glass trough with a

g. Thus provided with money and knowledge, Gerard decided to marry, and fly with his wife to Italy. Nothing remained now but to inform Margaret Brandt of his resolution, and to publish the banns as quietly as p

used it

k your father has no ill will to me more than to another. He told Peter Buyskens as much, and Peter told me. But so long as he is

ound it very easy to make her cry, but impossible to

drive me to be a priest, for this must end one way or another. My

peech, he flung away home ag

his, to some of us males, seems anything but logical. The fault is in our own eye; the logic is too swif

carce an hour and a half after he left her, Gerard came running back to her

etches! Look at their spite! They

d cut her portrait into five pieces. She was a good girl,

did

t! The butchers, the ruffians. Six months' work cut out of my life, and nothing to show for it now. See, they hav

how they treat you for my sake- Ye rob him of my portrait, do

Marg

the kinder: forgive me for refusing you. I will

an for Peter and Martin. They came and witnessed the betrothal; a solemn ceremon