"Those are the essential things; through them we are saved! And--send him to me the first of the week. Or he can come Sunday, but after church. Then he can tell me about the sermon, even if the pastors are--but what does a child know about it!"

Juffrouw Laps didn't think much of pastors. She held that people with grace in their hearts can understand G.o.d's word without Greek and Latin.

"Yes, Sunday after church. I will count upon it." And in order to make her invitation more insistent she mentioned certain sweets that she usually served her guests at that time.

Supposing that Juffrouw Laps was really anxious for Walter to come, we must admit that she showed deep knowledge of boy-nature.

As for Walter, he was afraid to be alone with this pious lady. For him she was the living embodiment of all the plagues that are made use of in the Old Testament to convert rebellious tribes to the true faith. For instance, thunder and lightning, pestilence, abysses, boils, flaming swords, etc.

If he had had the courage he would have asked her just to deposit the promised dainties somewhere outside of her flat. He would find them then. But he didn't have the courage.

"And why didn't you go?" asked the mother when Stoffel's enthusiasm over the sermon had begun to die down.

Walter said he had a pain in his stomach, which children always have when they want to bridge over disagreeable duties. With a better understanding between the parents and children this disease would be less frequent.

"I don't believe you have any pain in your stomach," declared the mother. "It's only because you're a bad child and never do what you're told to do."

Stoffel agreed with her; and then a council of war was held. Walter was condemned to go to Juffrouw Laps's at once; and he went.

Expecting some terrible ordeal, he was greatly embarra.s.sed and confused by the show of friendliness with which he was received.

"And you did come, my dear boy! But you are so late! Church has been out a long time. See what I have for you, expressly for you!"

She thrust him into a chair at the table and shoved all sorts of sweets over to him. Walter's embarra.s.sment increased; and he felt even less at ease when she began to stroke him and call him pet names.

"Now, tell me about the sermon," she said, when the child tried to escape the tenderness and affection to which he was not accustomed. "What did the pastor say?"

"The text----"

"But that's all right--afterwards, when your mouth is empty. You must eat a few cakes first. n.o.body can do everything at once. There is chocolate; and you're to have a little dram, too. I've always said that you are a nice boy; but they're forever plaguing you so. But you're not eating enough; do just as if you were at home."

For Walter that was not the right expression. At home!

His first surprise over Walter began to be possessed by a feeling of fear. Why, he could not have told to save him.

Suddenly he got up and declared that his mother had told him not to stay long.

There wasn't a word of truth in it. Juffrouw Laps protested, but Walter held his ground. Despite all of that kindness Walter was able to escape from the enemy.

Promising "to come back soon" he ran down the steps and into the street.

An indescribable feeling of freedom regained thrilled through him. He had escaped. It was incomprehensible even to him. Never had he been received so kindly, so cordially; never had he been treated in a manner approaching this. But why his antipathy? When he left she was going to kiss him, but he managed to dodge her. Why? He didn't know. But it made him shudder to think of it.

Should he go home now? What excuse could he give for coming back so soon?

Involuntarily he bent his steps toward Ash Gate. It was not his intention to visit Femke--not at all, really not! For he didn't have his Ophelia with him--proof conclusive that when he left home he had not thought of Femke.

And when he came in sight of his mills on the Buitensingel--oh, they were silent! Was there no wind? Or were they observing Sunday?

The Buitensingel was full of people taking a Sunday stroll. Walter followed the small stream, which led him towards Femke's house. Soon he stood before the low enclosure; but he did not dare to go in. Why? He put the blame on the absent Ophelia.

"If I only had that picture here I'd certainly go in!"

That is questionable. Even with the picture he would have probably been just as shy. He didn't know what he ought to say--or, better, whether he could say anything, or not. He reflected. Suppose Femke's mother should ask, "Did you want anything?"

We--yes, the "gentle reader" and I--we should have known what to answer. I wonder if our wisdom would have been wiser than the stupidity of the child, who stood irresolute and hesitating before the fence?

He stood staring at the house, his mouth wide open. His knees trembled, his heart fluttered, his tongue was dry.

A small column of smoke curling up from the chimney aroused him. What if a fire should break out! Then he would have to go in. He would rescue her, and carry her away in his arms--far, far away--to the end of the world, or at least outside of the town! Just anywhere where the people wear red velvet and green silk, where the gentlemen carry big swords and the ladies wear long trains. They would be so becoming to Femke. And she should ride horseback, and he would follow her--no, he would ride by her side, with a falcon on his hand!

If a fire should break out!

But Walter saw that the house was in no danger. This smoke came from the kitchen. He noticed other houses in the neighborhood where cooking seemed to be going on, and everywhere the chimneys were bearing witness to activities below which were presumably similar to those of Femke.

Finally a crowd of fellows came along who had evidently been stopping at one of those establishments where "refreshments" are served. They had been greatly refreshed, and in their exuberance of freshness, so to say, they crowded Walter away from the fence and took him along with them for a little way.

He was easily reconciled to this; for why, he thought, should he stand there and watch the smoke? There wasn't going to be any fire; and then he didn't have Ophelia with him.

But to-morrow! To-morrow he would bring that picture with him! And then he wouldn't stand at the fence like a baby.

He felt ashamed when he thought of his friends in their gay colors, or in armor, with plumes and swords. Those kings and knights and pages--they had been courageous, otherwise they never would have received such high orders and distinctions. Unless there were some change, he felt that he would never be pictured like that.

However, he expected that such a change would come--without doubt, surely, certainly, truly! The further he went, the more determined he became to go in the next day and put on a bold front and say: "Good-day, Juffrouw, how do you do?"

It was more difficult for him to decide what he would say to Femke.

He made up various little speeches in the manner of Floris the Fifth. In case Femke shouldn't like them he was going to say, "Why, that is from our greatest poet."

And then he would ask her to explain a lot of mysterious words in Floris that he hadn't understood--for instance, "fast fellow,"

"coverture," "chast.i.ty," and others.

Walter's development was determined by his desire to know things. His feeling for Femke, which was hardly real love, was subordinated to his thirst for knowledge. He knew that he couldn't get much from her, especially book-learning; but it was a pleasure merely to discuss things with her, even if she knew nothing about them.

He was curious to know all that she might have to tell him, or to ask him; for no doubt she too had been saving up her impressions for her first friend. But, alas! he was not so certain of her friendship! True, when he was sick she had asked about him; but perhaps she was just pa.s.sing by, and thought how easy it would be to ring the bell and ask, "How is Walter?"

Still it had taken courage to do it. What would Mungo Park have said if he had seen him hesitating before the gate! Walter knew that wasn't the way to conquer the world.

And if anybody had asked Mungo Park: "What do you want in Africa?"

Well, he would have answered. Such a traveller in such a book is never embarra.s.sed.

Then Walter began to address all sorts of remarks to negro kings that he had conquered with lance and sword. All the women kissed his hand as he rode by on his bay, with fiery red caparison. He inquired patronizingly after those good girls who had nursed him in his illness, "because the strange white man was far from mother and sisters and had no home." He would reward them princely.

In all this conquered land Walter was king and Femke was--queen! How magnificent the big red velvet cloak would look on her--and the gold crown!

Conquering continents was easy. He was scarcely thirteen; and yet he was afraid that somebody might get ahead of him while he was being detained by the treacherous Pennewip with declensions and conjugations. And, then there were still more things to learn before one could be king, even of a small country. Pocket-change would have to be increased too, for, with all possible economy, six doits a week were insufficient. The Hallemans--well, they had more; but fortunately they were not thinking of Africa. For the present he was not afraid of any compet.i.tion from that quarter; but other children, nearer the "grown-up" stage, might get the idea in their heads! And then, what would he do to keep his mother from guessing when he made his trips into the "interior" longer, and stayed out later than was allowed by the regulations of the Pieterse household?