"_The trifles of our daily lives,
The common things scarce worth recall,
Whereof no visible trace survives,--
These are the mainsprings, after all._"
"Honoured gentleman, when will you pay me my money?"
The speaker was an old man, dressed in a black coat buttoned to the
ankles, and a cap of silk and fur, from beneath which fell a fringe of
gray hair. His long beard was also gray, and he leaned upon an ivory
staff carved with many strange signs. The inquiry was addressed to
Captain Hyde. He paid no attention whatever to it, but, gayly humming a
stave of "Marlbrook," watched the crush of wagons and pedestrians, in
order to find a suitable moment to cross the narrow street.
"Honoured gentleman, when will you pay me my moneys?"
The second inquiry elicited still less attention for, just as it was
made, Neil Semple came out of the City Hall, and his appearance gave the
captain a good excuse for ignoring the unpleasant speaker.
"Faith, Mr. Semple," he cried, "you came in an excellent time. I am for
Fraunce's Tavern, and a chop and a bottle of Madeira. I shall be vastly
glad of your company."
The grave young lawyer, with his hands full of troublesome-looking
papers, had little of the air of a boon companion; and, indeed, the
invitation was at once courteously declined.
"I have a case on in the Admiralty Court, Captain," he answered, "and so
my time is not my own. It belongs, I may say, to the man who has paid me
good money for it."
"Lawyer Semple?"
"Mr. Cohen, at your service, sir."
"Captain Hyde owes me one hundred guineas, with the interests, since the
fifteenth day of last December. He will not hear me when I say to him,
'Pay me my moneys;' perhaps he will listen, if you speak for me."
"If you are asking my advice in the way of business, you know my
office-door, Cohen; if in the way of friendship, I may as well say at
once, that I never name friendship and money in the same breath.
Good-day, gentlemen. I am in something of a hurry, as you may
understand." Cohen bowed low in response to the civil greeting; Captain
Hyde stared indignantly at the man who had presumed to couple one of
his Majesty's officers with a money-lender and a Jew.
"I do not wish to make you more expenses, Captain;" and Cohen, following
the impulse of his anxiety, laid his hand upon his debtor's arm. Hyde
turned in a rage, and flung off the touch with a passionate oath. Then
the Jew left him. There was neither anger nor impatience visible in his
face or movements. He cast a glance up at the City Hall,--an involuntary
appeal, perhaps, to the justice supposed to inhabit its chambers,--and
then he walked slowly toward his store and home.
[Illustration: Hyde flung off the touch with a passionate oath]
Both were under one roof,--a two-storied building in the lower part of
Pearl Street, dingy and unattractive in outward appearance, but crowded
in its interior with articles of beauty and worth,--Flemish paintings
and rich metal work, Venetian glasses and velvets, Spanish and Moorish
leather goods, silverware, watches, jewellery, etc. The window of the
large room in which all was stored was dim with cobwebs, and there was
no arrangement of the treasures. They were laid in the drawers of the
great Dutch presses and in cabinets, or packed in boxes, or hung against
the walls.
At the back of the store, there was a small sitting-room, and behind it
a kitchen, built in a yard which was carefully boarded up. A narrow
stairway near the front of the store led to the apartments above. They
were three in number. One was a kind of lumber-room; a second, Cohen's
sleeping-room; and the largest, at the back of the house, belonged to
the Jew's grandchild Miriam. There was one servant in the family, an old
woman who had come to America with Jacob. She spoke little English, and
she lived in complete seclusion in her kitchen and yard. As far as Jacob
Cohen was concerned, he preserved an Oriental reticence about the women
of his household; he never spoke of them, and he was never seen in their
company. It was seldom they went abroad; when they did so, it was early
in the morning, and usually to the small synagogue in Mill Street.
He soon recovered the calmness which had been lost during his
unsatisfactory interview with Captain Hyde. "A wise man frets not
himself for the folly of a fool;" and, having come to this decision, he
entered his house with the invocation for its peace and prosperity on
his lips. A party of three gentlemen were examining his stock: they were
Governor Clinton and his friends Colden and Belcher.
"Cohen," said Clinton, "you have many fine things here; in particular,
this Dutch cabinet, with heavy brass mountings. Send it to my residence.
And that Venetian mirror with the silver frame will match the silver
sconces you sold me at the New Year. I do not pretend to be a judge, but
these things are surely extremely handsome. Pray, sir, let us see the
Moorish leather that William Walton has reserved for his new house. I
hear you are to have the ordering of the carpets and tapestries. You
will make money, Jacob Cohen."
"Your Excellency knows best. I shall make my just profits,--no more, no
more."
"Yes, yes; you have many ways to make profits, I hear. All do well,
too."
"When God pleases, it rains with every wind, your Excellency."
Then there was a little stir in the street,--that peculiar sense of
something more than usual, which can make itself felt in the busiest
thoroughfare,--and Golden went to the door and looked out. Joris Van
Heemskirk was just passing, and his walk was something quicker than
usual.
"Good-day to you, Councillor. Pray, sir, what is to do at the wharf? I
perceive a great bustle comes thence."
"At your service, Councillor Golden. At the wharf there is good news.
The 'Great Christopher' has come to anchor,--Captain Batavius de Vries.
So a good-morrow, sir;" and Joris lifted his beaver, and proceeded on
his way to Murray's Wharf.
[Illustration: Batavius stood at the mainmast]
Bram was already on board. His hands were clasped across the big right
shoulder of Batavius, who stood at the mainmast, giving orders about his
cargo. He was a large man, with the indisputable air of a sailor from
strange seas, familiar with the idea of solitude, and used to absolute
authority. He loved Bram after his own fashion, but his vocabulary of
affectionate words was not a large one. Bram, however, understood him;
he had been quite satisfied with his short and undemonstrative
greeting,--
"Thee, Bram? Good! How goes it?"
The advent of Joris added a little to the enthusiasm of the meeting.
Joris thoroughly liked Batavius, and their hands slipped into each
other's with a mighty grasp almost spontaneously. After some necessary
delay, the three men left the ship together. There was quite a crowd on
the wharf. Some were attracted by curiosity; others, by the hope of a
good job on the cargo; others, again, not averse to a little private
bargaining for any curious or valuable goods the captain of the "Great
Christopher" had for sale. Cohen was among the latter; but he had too
much intelligence to interfere with a family party, especially as he
heard Joris say to the crowd with a polite authority, "Make way,
friends, make way. When a man is off a three-years' cruise, for a trifle
he should not be stopped."
Joanna had had a message from her lover, and she was watching for his
arrival. There was no secrecy in her love-affairs, and it was amid the
joy and smiles of the whole household that she met her affianced
husband. They were one of those loving, sensible couples, for whom it is
natural to predict a placid and happy life; and the first words of
Batavius seemed to assure it.
"My affairs have gone well, Joanna, as they generally do; and now I
shall build the house, and we shall be married."
Joanna laughed. "I shall just say a word or two, also, about that,
Batavius."
"Come, come, the word or two was said so long ago. Have you got the
pretty Chinese _kas_ I sent from the ship? and the Javanese _cabaya_,
and the sweetmeats, and the golden pins?"
"All of them I have got. Much money, Batavius, they must have cost."
"Well, well, then! There is enough left. A man does not go to the
African coast for nothing. _Katrijntje, mijn meisje_, what's the matter
now, that you never come once?"
Katherine was standing at the open window, apparently watching the
honey-bees among the locust blooms, but really perceiving something far
beyond them,--a boat on the river at the end of the garden. She could
not have told how she knew that it was there; but she saw it, saw it
through the intervening space, barred and shaded by many trees. She felt
the slow drift of the resting oars, and the fascination of an eager,
handsome face lifted to the lilac-bushes which hedged the bank. So the
question of Batavius touched very lightly her physical consciousness. A
far sweeter, a far more peremptory voice called her; but she answered,--
"There is nothing the matter, Batavius. I am well, I am happy. And now I
will go into the garden to make me a fine nosegay."
"Three times this week, into the garden you have gone to get a nosegay;
and then all about it you forget. It will be better to listen to
Batavius, I think. He will tell us of the strange countries where he has
been, and of the strange men and women."
"For you, Joanna, that will be pleasant; but"--
"For you also. To listen to Batavius is to learn something."
"Well, that is the truth. But to me all this talk is not very
interesting. I will go into the garden;" and she walked slowly out of
the door, and stopped or stooped at every flower-bed, while Joanna
watched her.
"The child is now a woman. It will be a lover next, Joanna."
"There is a lover already; but to anything he says, Katrijntje listens
not. It is at her father's knee she sits, not at the lover's."
"It will be Rem Verplanck? And what will come of it?"
"No, it is Neil Semple. To-night you will see. He comes in and talks of
the Assembly and the governor, and of many things of great moment. But
it is Katherine for all that. A girl has not been in love four years for
nothing. I can see, too, that my father looks sad, and my mother says
neither yes nor no in the matter."
"The Semples are good business managers. They are also rich, and they
approve of good morals and the true religion. Be content, Joanna. Many
roads lead to happiness beside the road we take. Now, let us talk of our
own affairs."
It was at this moment that Katherine turned to observe if she were
watched. No: Batavius and Joanna had gone away from the window, and for
a little while she would not be missed. She ran rapidly to the end of
the garden, and, parting the lilac-bushes, stood flushed and panting on
the river-bank. There was a stir of oars below her. It was precisely as
she had known it would be. Captain Hyde's pretty craft shot into sight,
and a few strokes put it at the landing-stair. In a moment he was at her
side. He took her in his arms; and, in spite of the small hands covering
her blushing face, he kissed her with passionate affection.
[Illustration: He took her in his arms]
"My darling, my charmer," he said, "how you have tortured me! By my
soul, I have been almost distracted. Pray, now let me see thy lovely
face." He lifted it in his hands and kissed it again,--kissed the rosy
cheeks, and white dropped eyelids, and red smiling mouth; vowed with
every kiss that she was the most adorable of women, and protested, "on
his honour as a soldier," that he would make her his wife, or die a
bachelor for her sake.
And who can blame a young girl if she listens and believes, when
listening and believing mean to her perfect happiness? Not women who
have ever stood, trembling with love and joy, close to the dear one's
heart. If they be gray-haired, and on the very shoal of life, they must
remember still those moments of delight,--the little lane, the fire-lit
room, the drifting boat, that is linked with them. If they be young and
lovely, and have but to say, "It was yesterday," or, "It was last week,"
still better they will understand the temptation that was too great for
Katherine to overcome.
And, as yet, nothing definite had been said to her about Neil Semple,
and the arrangement made for her future. Joris had intended every day to
tell her, and every day his heart had failed him. He felt as if the
entire acceptance of the position would be giving his little daughter
away. As long as she was not formally betrothed, she was all his own;
and Neil could not use that objectionable word "my" in regard to her.
Lysbet was still more averse to a decisive step. She had had "dreams"
and "presentiments" of unusual honour for Katherine, which she kept with
a superstitious reverence in her memory; and the girl's great beauty and
winning manners had fed this latent expectancy. But to see her the wife
of Neil Semple did not seem to be any realization of her ambitious
hopes. She had known Neil all his life; and she could not help feeling,
that, if Katherine's fortune lay with him, her loving dreams were all
illusions and doomed to disappointment.
Besides, with a natural contradiction, she was a little angry at Neil's
behaviour. He had been coming to their house constantly for a month at
least; every opportunity of speaking to Katherine on his own behalf had
been given him, and he had not spoken. He was too indifferent, or he was
too confident; and either feeling she resented. But she judged Neil
wrongly. He was an exceedingly cautious young man; and he _felt_ what
the mother could not perceive,--a certain atmosphere about the charming
girl which was a continual repression to him. In the end, he determined
to win her, win her entirely, heart and hand; therefore he did not wish
to embarrass his subsequent wooing by having to surmount at the outset
the barrier of a premature "no." And, as yet, his jealousy of Captain
Hyde was superficial and intermitting; it had not entered his mind that
an English officer could possibly be an actual rival to him. They were
all of them notoriously light of love, and the Colonial beauties treated
their homage with as light a belief; only it angered and pained him that
Katherine should suffer herself to be made the pastime of Hyde's idle
hours.
On the night of De Vries' return, there was a great gathering at Van
Heemskirk's house. No formal invitations were given, but all the friends
of the family understood that it would be so. Joris kept on his coat and
ruffles and fine cravat, Batavius wore his blue broadcloth and gilt
buttons, and Lysbet and her daughters were in their kirk dresses of silk
and camblet. It was an exquisite summer evening, and the windows
looking into the garden were all open; so also was the door; and long
before sunset the stoop was full of neighbourly men, smoking with Joris
and Batavius, and discussing Colonial and commercial affairs.
In the living-room and the best parlour their wives were
gathered,--women with finely rounded forms, very handsomely clothed, and
all busily employed in the discussion of subjects of the greatest
interest to them. For Joanna's marriage was now to be freely talked
over,--the house Batavius was going to build described, the linen and
clothing she had prepared examined, and the numerous and rich presents
her lover had brought her wondered over, and commented upon.
Conspicuous in the happy chattering company, Lysbet Van Heemskirk
bustled about, in the very whitest and stiffest of lace caps; making a
suggestion, giving an opinion, scolding a careless servant, putting out
upon the sideboard Hollands, Geneva, and other strong waters, and
ordering in from the kitchen hot chocolate and cakes of all kinds for
the women of the company. Very soon after sundown, Elder Semple and
madam his wife arrived; and the elder, as usual, made a decided stir
among the group which he joined.
"No, no, Councillor," he said, in answer to the invitation of Joris to
come outside. "No, no, I'll not risk my health, maybe my vera life, oot
on the stoop after sunset. 'Warm,' do you say? Vera warm, and all the
waur for being warm. My medical man thinks I hae a tendency to fever,
and there's four-fourths o' fever in every inch o' river mist that a
man breathes these warm nights."
"Well, then, neighbours, we'll go inside," said Joris. "Clean pipes, and
a snowball, or a glass of Holland, will not, I think, be amiss."
The movement was made among some jokes and laughter; and they gathered
near the hearthstone, where, in front of the unlit hickory logs, stood a
tall blue jar filled with feathery branches of fennel and asparagus.
But, as the jar of Virginia was passed round, Lysbet looked at Dinorah,
and Dinorah went to the door and called, "Baltus;" and in a minute or
two a little black boy entered with some hot coals on a brass
chafing-dish, and the fire was as solemnly and silently passed round as
if it were some occult religious ceremony.
The conversation interrupted by Semples entrance was not resumed.
[Illustration: A little black boy entered]
It had been one dealing out unsparing and scornful disapproval of
Governor Clinton's financial methods, and Clinton was known to be a
personal friend of Semple's. But the elder would perhaps hardly have
appreciated the consideration, if he had divined it; for he dearly loved
an argument, and had no objections to fight for his own side
single-handed. In fact, it was so natural for him to be "in opposition,"
that he could not bear to join the general congratulation to De Vries on
his fortunate voyage.
"You were lang awa', Captain," was his opening speech. "It would tak' a
deal o' gude fortune to mak' it worth your while to knock around the
high seas for three years or mair."
"Well, look now, Elder, I didn't come home with empty hands. I have
always been apt to get into the place where gold and good bargains were
going."
"Hum-m-m! You sailed for Rotterdam, I think?"
"That is true; from Rotterdam I went to Batavia, and then to the coast
of Africa. The African cargo took me to the West Indies. From Kingston
it was easy to St. Thomas and Surinam for cotton, and then to Curacoa
for dyeing-woods and spices. The 'Great Christopher' took luck with her.
Every cargo was a good cargo."
"I'll no be certain o' that, Captain. I would hae some scruples mysel'
anent buying and selling men and women o' any colour. We hae no
quotations from the other world, and it may be the Almighty holds his
black men at as high a figure as his white men. I'm just speculating,
you ken. I hae a son--my third son, Alexander Semple, o' Boston--wha has
made money on the Africans. I hae told him, likewise, that trading in
wheat and trading in humanity may hae ethical differences; but every one
settles his ain bill, and I'll hae enough to do to secure mysel'."
Batavius was puzzled; and at the words "ethical differences," his big
brown hand was "in the hair" at once. He scratched his head and looked
doubtfully at Semple, whose face was peculiarly placid and thoughtful
and kindly.
"Men must work, Elder, and these blacks won't work unless they are
forced to. I, who am a baptized Christian, have to do my duty in this
life; and, as for pagans, they must be made to do it. I am myself a
great lover of morality, and that is what I think. Also, you may read in
the Scriptures, that St. Paul says that if a man will not work, neither
shall he eat."
"St. Paul dootless kent a' about the question o' forced labour, seeing
that he lived when baith white and black men were sold for a price.
However, siller in the hand answers a' questions and the dominie made a
vera true observe one Sabbath, when he said that the Almighty so ordered
things in this warld that orthodoxy and good living led to wealth and
prosperity."
"That is the truth," answered Justice Van Gaasbeeck; "Holland is Holland
because she has the true faith. You may see that in France there is
anarchy and bloodshed and great poverty; that is because they are Roman
Catholics."
It was at this moment that Katherine came and stood behind her father's
chair. She let her hand fall down over his shoulder, and he raised his
own to clasp it. "What is it, then, _mijn Katrijntje kleintje_?"
"It is to dance. Mother says 'yes' if thou art willing."
"Then I say 'yes,' also."
For a moment she laid her cheek against his; and the happy tears came
into his eyes, and he stroked her face, and half-reluctantly let
Batavius lead her away. For, at the first mention of a dance, Batavius
had risen and put down his pipe; and in a few minutes he was
triumphantly guiding Joanna in a kind of mazy waltzing movement, full of
spirit and grace.
At that day there were but few families of any wealth who did not own
one black man who could play well upon the violin. Joris possessed two;
and they were both on hand, putting their own gay spirits into the
fiddle and the bow. And oh, how happy were the beating feet and the
beating hearts that went to the stirring strains! It was joy and love
and youth in melodious motion. The old looked on with gleaming,
sympathetic eyes; the young forgot that they were mortal.
Then there was a short pause; and the ladies sipped chocolate, and the
gentlemen sipped something a little stronger, and a merry ripple of
conversation and of hearty laughter ran with the clink of glass and
china, and the scraping of the fiddle-bows.
"Miss Katern Van Heemskirk and Mr. Neil Semple will now hab de honour of
'bliging de company wid de French minuet."
At this announcement, made by the first negro violin, there was a sudden
silence; and Neil rose, and with a low bow offered the tips of his
fingers to the beautiful girl, who rose blushing to take them. The elder
deliberately turned his chair around, in order to watch the movement
comfortably; and there was an inexpressible smile of satisfaction on his
face as his eyes followed the young people. Neil's dark, stately beauty
was well set off by his black velvet suit and powdered hair and gold
buckles. And no lovelier contrast could have faced him than Katherine
Van Heemskirk; so delicately fresh, so radiantly fair, she looked in her
light-blue robe and white lace stomacher, with a pink rose at her
breast. There were shining amber beads around her white throat, and a
large amber comb fastened her pale brown hair. A gilded Indian fan was
in her hand, and she used it with all the pretty airs she had so aptly
copied from Mrs. Gordon.
Neil had a natural majesty in his carriage; Katherine supplemented it
with a natural grace, and with certain courtly movements which made the
little Dutch girls, who had never seen Mrs. Gordon practising them,
admire and wonder. As she was in the very act of making Neil a profound
courtesy, the door opened, and Mrs. Gordon and Captain Hyde entered. The
latter took in the exquisite picture in a moment; and there was a fire
of jealousy in his heart when he saw Neil lead his partner to her seat,
and with the deepest respect kiss her pretty fingers ere he resigned
them.
But he was compelled to control himself, as he was ceremoniously
introduced to Councillor and Madam Van Heemskirk by his aunt, who, with
a charming effusiveness, declared "she was very uneasy to intrude so
far; but, in faith, Councillor," she pleaded, "I am but a woman, and I
find the news of a wedding beyond my nature to resist."
There was something so frank and persuasive about the elegant stranger,
that Joris could not refuse the courtesy she asked for herself and her
nephew. And, having yielded, he yielded with entire truth and
confidence. He gave his hand to his visitors, and made them heartily
welcome to join in his household rejoicing. True, Mrs. Gordon's
persuasive words were ably seconded by causes which she had probably
calculated. The elder and Madam Semple were present, and it would have
been impossible for Joris to treat their friends rudely. Bram was also
another conciliating element, for Captain Hyde was on pleasant speaking
terms with him; and, as yet, even Neil's relations were at least those
of presumed friendship. Also, the Van Gaasbeeks and others present were
well inclined to make the acquaintance of a woman so agreeable, and an
officer so exceptionally handsome and genteel. Besides which, Joris was
himself in a happy and genial mood; he had opened his house and his
heart to his friends; and he did not feel at that hour as if he could
doubt any human being, or close his door against even the stranger and
the alien who wished to rejoice with him.
Elder Semple was greatly pleased at his friend's complaisance. He gave
Joris full credit for his victory over his national prejudices, and he
did his very best to make the concession a pleasant event. In this
effort, he was greatly assisted by Mrs. Gordon; she set herself to
charm Van Heemskirk, as she had set herself to charm Madam Van Heemskirk
on her previous visit; and she succeeded so well, that, when "Sir Roger
de Coverley" was called, Joris rose, offered her his hand, and, to the
delight of every one present, led the dance with her.
It was a little triumph for the elder; and he sat smiling, and twirling
his fingers, and thoroughly enjoying the event. Indeed, he was so
interested in listening to the clever way in which "the bonnie woman
flattered Van Heemskirk," that he was quite oblivious of the gathering
wrath in his son's face, and the watchful gloom in Bram's eyes, as the
two men stood together, jealously observant of Captain Hyde's attentions
to Katherine. Without any words spoken on the subject, there was an
understood compact between them to guard the girl from any private
conversation with him; and yet two men with hearts full of suspicion and
jealousy were not a match for one man with a heart full of love. In a
moment, in the interchange of their hands in a dance, Katherine clasped
tightly a little note, and unobserved hid it behind the rose at her
breast.
But nothing is a wonder in love, or else it would have been amazing that
Joanna did not notice the rose absent from her sister's dress after
Captain Hyde's departure; nor yet that Katherine, ere she went to rest
that night, kissed fervently a tiny bit of paper which she hid within
the silver clasps of her Kirk Bible. The loving girl thought it no wrong
to put it there; she even hoped that some kind of blessing or sanction
might come through such sacred keeping; and she went to sleep
whispering to herself,--"_Happy I am. Me he loves; me he loves; me only
he loves; me forever he loves_!"
[Illustration: Tail-piece]
[Illustration: Chapter heading]