"I know I felt Love's face

Pressed on my neck, with moan of pity and grace,

Till both our heads were in his aureole."

The news of the duel spread with the proverbial rapidity of evil news.

At the doors of all the public houses, in every open shop, on every

private stoop, and at the street-corners, people were soon discussing

the event, with such additions and comments as their imaginations and

prejudices suggested. One party insisted that lawyer Semple was dead;

another, that it was the English officer; a third, that both died as

they were being carried from the ground.

Batavius, who had lingered to the last moment at the house which he was

building, heard the story from many a lip as he went home. He was

bitterly indignant at Katherine. He felt, indeed, as if his own

character for morality of every kind had been smirched by his intended

connection with her. And his Joanna! How wicked Katherine had been not

to remember that she had a sister whose spotless name would be tarnished

by her kinship! He was hot with haste and anger when he reached Van

Heemskirk's house.

Madam stood with Joanna on the front-stoop, looking anxiously down the

road. She was aware that Bram had called for his father, and she had

heard them leave the house together in unexplained haste. At first, the

incident did not trouble her much. Perhaps one of the valuable Norman

horses was sick, or there was an unexpected ship in, or an unusually

large order. Bram was a young man who relied greatly on his father. She

only worried because supper must be delayed an hour, and that delay

would also keep back the completion of that exquisite order in which it

was her habit to leave the house for the sabbath rest.

After some time had elapsed, she went upstairs, and began to lay out the

clean linen and the kirk clothes. Suddenly she noticed that it was

nearly dark; and, with a feeling of hurry and anxiety, she remembered

the delayed meal. Joanna was on the front-stoop watching for Batavius,

who was also unusually late; and, like many other loving women, she

could think of nothing good which might have detained him, but her heart

was full only of evil apprehensions.

"Where is Katherine?" That was the mother's first question, and she

called her through the house. From the closed best parlour, Katherine

came, white and weeping.

"What is the matter, then, that you are crying? And why into the dark

room go you?"

"Full of sorrow I am, mother, and I went to the room to pray to God; but

I cannot pray."




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