"As her own son, she loved him."

"Yea, Lysbet; but just one should be. Weary and sad am I to-night."

The next morning was the sabbath, and many painful questions suggested

themselves to Joris and Lysbet Van Heemskirk. Joris felt that he must

not take his seat among the deacons until he had been fully exonerated

of all blame of blood-guiltiness by the dominie and his elders and

deacons in full kirk session. Madam could hardly endure the thought of

the glances that would be thrown at her daughter, and the probable

slights she would receive. Batavius plainly showed an aversion to being

seen in Katherine's company. But these things did not seem to Joris a

sufficient reason for neglecting worship. He thought it best for people

to face the unpleasant consequences of wrong-doing; and he added, "In

trouble also, my dear ones, where should we go but into the house of the

good God?"

Katherine had not spoken during the discussion but, when it was over,

she said, "Mijn vader, mijn moeder, to-day I cannot go! For me have

some pity. The dominie I will speak to first; and what he says, I will

do."

"Between me and thy moeder thou shalt be."

"Bear it I cannot. I shall fall down, I shall be ill; and there shall be

shame and fear, and the service to make stop, and then more wonder and

more talk, and the dominie angry also! At home I am the best."

"Well, then, so it shall be."

But Joris was stern to Katherine, and his anger added the last

bitterness to her grief. No one had said a word of reproach to her; but,

equally, no one had said a word of pity. Even Joanna was shy and cold,

for Batavius had made her feel that one's own sister may fall below

moral par and sympathy. "If either of the men die," he had said, "I

shall always consider Katherine guilty of murder; and nowhere in the

Holy Scriptures are we told to forgive murder, Joanna. And even while

the matter is uncertain, is it not right to be careful? Are we not told

to avoid even the appearance of evil?" So that, with this charge before

him, Batavius felt that countenancing Katherine in any way was not

keeping it.

And certainly the poor girl might well fear the disapproval of the

general public, when her own family made her feel her fault so keenly.

The kirk that morning would have been the pillory to her. She was

unspeakably grateful for the solitude of the house, for space and

silence, in which she could have the relief of unrestrained weeping.

About the middle of the morning, she heard Bram's footsteps. She divined

why he had come home, and she shrank from meeting him until he removed

the clothing he had worn during the night's bloody vigil. Bram had not

thought of Katherine's staying from kirk; and when she confronted him,

so tear-stained and woe-begone, his heart was full of pity for her. "My

poor little Katherine!" he said; and she threw her arms around his neck,

and sobbed upon his breast as if her heart would break.




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