pronounced very like a French country fair; but it seemed wonderful to
me. There were streets and streets of booths, little and big, gorgeously
decorated, where people in the costumes of their provinces sold every
imaginable kind of thing. Nell was so well-behaved that she evidently
disarmed Jonkheer Brederode's suspicions, if he had shared mine; and
when she proposed buying a quantity of sweets and cheap toys for us to
give away to families of children upon the lighters we passed on canals,
he was ready to humor her. We chose all sorts of toys and
sweets--enough to last us for days of playing Santa Claus--and bargained
in Dutch with the people who sold, making them laugh sometimes. Then,
Jonkheer Brederode took us to all the best side-shows: the giant steer,
as big as sixteen every-day oxen; the smallest horse in the world, a
fairy beast, thoughtfully doing sums in the sand with his miniature
forepaw; the fat lady, very bored and warm; the fair Circassian, who
lured audiences into a hot theater with tinsel decorations like a
Christmas-tree and hundreds of colored lights. There were other sights;
but Jonkheer Brederode said these were the only ones for ladies, and
hurried us by some of the booths with painted pictures of three-headed
people or girls cut off at the waist, which Nell wished particularly to
see. He wouldn't let us go into the merry-go-rounds either, and by the
time we got back to the hotel--our hands full of dolls, tops, spotted
wooden horses, boxes of blocks, and packets of nougat surmounted with
chenille monkeys--she was boiling with pent-up resentment.
Already we were late for dinner, and we still had to dress; but
Nell--who shared a room with me, as the hotel was crowded--said that she
must slip out again, to buy something which she wished to select when
alone; she would not be gone many minutes.
I was all ready when she ran in again with two large bundles in her
hands. She would not tell me what they were, as she was in a hurry to
change (at least, that was her excuse), but promised that I should see
something interesting if I would come up to the room with her after
dining; and I was not to tell any one that she had been out for the
second time.
We were long over our dinner, as there was such a crowd that the waiters
grew quite confused; and, at the end, we three women sat with Jonkheer
Brederode and Mr. Starr in the garden behind the hotel, while the men
smoked. Nell was so patient that I almost thought she had forgotten the
bundles up-stairs. But at last Lady MacNairne, hearing a clock chime
ten, announced that she had some writing to do before going to bed.
"I suppose you will have a look at the Kermess again?" she said to our
two knights.
"I've seen dozens of such fairs; and when you've seen one, you've seen
pretty well all, nowadays. But if the Mariner would like to go, I shall
be glad to go with him," Jonkheer Brederode answered.
"I'm not sure I didn't see enough this afternoon," said Mr. Starr.
"Anyhow, I mean to have another cigarette or two here; and I do think
the ladies might stop with me, for I have a hundred things to say."
Lady MacNairne and Nell were on their feet, however, and would not be
persuaded; so we bade each other good-night, and three minutes later
Nell was opening her parcels in our room.
"Among the last letters that were forwarded from London, was a larger
check than I expected from the _Fireside Friend_," said she; "so I've
bought a present for you, and for me, from my affectionate self."
With that, she had the paper wrappings off two glittering Frisian
head-dresses, like beautiful gold skull-caps. And in the other bundle
were two black shawls, like those I had seen several girls of Leeuwarden
wearing.
"Oh, how sweet!" I exclaimed. "Thank you so much. I've been wanting some
kind of costume ever since Amsterdam, where they were so expensive.
These are to take home and keep as souvenirs, when we are at work in our
poor little flat, just as if nothing had ever happened to us."
Nell gave a shudder, but she didn't say that we never would go home and
to work again, as she used to say if I spoke of it when we were
beginning our trip. Instead she said----
"I don't know about the future; but I'm going to wear mine to-night."
"What, sleep in that helmet?" I asked.
She laughed. "I'm not thinking about sleep yet. It's just the edge of
the evening--in Kermess week. Watch me."
She undid her hair, which is very long and thick, and seems even thicker
than it is, if possible, because it is so wavy. Then she plaited it
tightly into two braids, and straining, and pulling, and pushing the
little ripples and rings back from her face, as well as she could, she
managed to put on the helmet. Then she tied the shawl over her
shoulders; and as she had on a short dark skirt which was unnoticeable,
she looked, for all the world, like a beautiful Frisian girl.
[Illustration: _She looked, for all the world, like a beautiful Frisian
girl_]
I told her this, and she said, "Will you be a Frisian girl too, and come
out with me to see the Kermess at the time when it's worth seeing?"
I was dreadfully startled, and of course said "No." I had never done
anything in disguise, and I never would.
"Very well, then," said Nell, "I'll go alone."
I tried to dissuade her; but she did not object to shocking Jonkheer
Brederode.
"It would do him good," she said. "Only he won't have the chance this
time, because no one would ever recognize me, would they?"
I looked hard at her, and was not quite sure, though the pushing back of
the hair and the wearing of the helmet did change her wonderfully, to
say nothing of the shawl. But she looked far too beautiful to go out
alone in the night. The golden head-dress gave her hair the color of
copper beech leaves, and the gleam of the metal so close to the face
made her complexion transparent, as if a light were shining through a
thin sheet of mother-o'-pearl.
When I found that she was determined, I told her that I would go, rather
than she should run the risk alone; but she only laughed, and said
there was no risk. Even if our skipper were right about foreigners,
surely two Frisian girls of the lower classes might walk about at the
fair, when the best fun was going on; we should find plenty of others
exactly like ourselves. And when I'd tried the helmet on before the
mirror, I could not resist wishing that Mr. van Buren might have seen
it--simply to amuse him, of course.
The next thing was to steal down-stairs without being seen. We wrapped
our shawls over our heads, helmets and all; but we need not have feared,
every one was away at some entertainment or other, and we did not meet a
soul. Once outside the hotel, we rearranged the shawls, crossing the
ends behind our waists, and Nell said that it did not matter if we met
the whole world now. As we should not have to open our mouths to any
one, and betray our ignorance of Dutch, there would be nothing to show
that we were not Frisian girls.
The full moon was just coming up as we left the hotel, but when we had
turned two or three corners, and reached the streets where the Kermess
was going on, there was such a white blaze of electricity that the moon
and her pale light were swallowed up. In the dazzling illumination, the
booths and merry-go-rounds, and carousels, with their sparkling
decorations of tinsel, seemed to drip gold and silver; and the garlands
and trees and fountains of electric light scintillated like myriads of
diamonds.
There had been crowds in the afternoon, but now they were five times as
dense. The brilliant, open-air _cafes_ were crammed, and the band in
each one was playing a different air. Everybody was laughing, and
shouting and singing; the people had thrown away their Dutch reserve,
and even middle-aged men and women were enjoying themselves like
children.
I felt self-conscious and guilty at first, but it was such a gay scene
that nobody could help getting into the spirit of it; and just as Nell
had prophesied, there were plenty of Frisian girls about, in gold or
silver helmets, like ours, only nobody stared at them particularly, and
everybody did stare at us.
I remarked this to Nell, and the fact that no shawls of our sort were
being worn; but she laughed and said that if people stared we might as
well take it as a compliment; she flattered herself that we happened to
be looking our best.
It really was fun. We dared not buy anything on account of our foreign
accent; but we wandered from street to street, jostled by the crowd,
stopping in front of the gayest booths, and even going into a side-show
where a Javanese man was having fits to please the audience. Jonkheer
Brederode had refused to take us in the afternoon, when we had shown an
interest in the painting which advertised the Javanese creature; but,
after all, the fits were more exciting on canvas than they were inside
the hot, crowded tent, and some young soldiers stared at us so much that
we were glad to get out.
Next door was the most gorgeous _carousel_ I ever saw. It was spinning
round under a red plush roof, embroidered with gold and sparkling
crystals, and festooned with silver chains. To the strains of the Dutch
national air, life-sized elephants with gilded castles, huge giraffes,
alarming lions, terrific tigers, beautiful swans, and Sedan chairs were
whirling madly, with great effect of glitter and gaiety.
"All my life I've wanted to ride in a merry-go-round," said Nell, "and I
never have. Now's our one chance. There's a Spanish bull and a Polar
bear to let. Come on."
She seized my hand, and before I realized what we were doing, I was
sitting on a large bull, wildly clinging to its horns, while Nell, just
in front, perched on the back of a sly-looking white bear.
No sooner were we settled than the four young soldiers who had stared in
the fit-man's tent, jumped on some other animals in the procession, and
as we began to fly round the big ring, they called out and waved their
hands as if they were friends of ours. I was afraid they must have
followed us out of the tent, and I could understand enough Dutch to know
that they were saying things about our looks. Every one in the crowd
laughed and encouraged them, and several people standing by to watch,
spoke to Nell and me as we whirled.
It was an awful situation. What with the embarrassment, the shame, the
horrid consciousness of being part of the show, and the giddiness that
came over me with the motion, it was all I could do to keep from crying.
But if I had sobbed while spinning round the ring on the back of a bull,
I should have been a more conspicuous figure than ever, so I controlled
myself with all my might. Oh, if only I could have got down, to run away
and hide! but there we both had to sit till time for the merry-go-round
to stop, and I would have given all that's left of the two hundred
pounds Captain Noble willed me, to make the horrid machinery break down.
As we sailed round and round my agonized eyes caught the surprised gaze
of a man I knew. For an instant I could not remember how, or where, or
how much I knew him; but suddenly it all came back. I recognized Sir
Alexander MacNairne, whose acquaintance we made in Amsterdam, through
Tibe, and the worst thing was that, from the expression of his face, I
was almost sure he recognized us both, in spite of our disguise.
By this time, the sitting on the bull, and the continued whirling at the
mercy of a thousand eyes, began to seem a torture such as might have
been inflicted by the Inquisition if you had argued with them about some
little thing. I'm sure, if any one had sprung forward at this moment to
tell me that if I would become a Dissenter of any kind, or belong to the
Salvation Army, I needn't be a martyr any longer, but should be saved at
once, I would have screamed "Yes--yes--_yes_!"
At last the animals did slow down, and Nell and I slid off our monsters
before they had stopped; but instead of improving our situation, we had
made it worse.
While we had been sailing round the ring, no one could approach
disagreeably near. The minute we tried to mingle with the crowd and
disappear in it, however, the impudent young soldiers mingled too,
having the evident intention of disappearing with us.
The things that happened next, happened so quickly, one after the other,
that they are still confused in my memory. At the time I knew only that
the soldiers were following and surrounding Nell and me; that my heart
was beating fast, that her cheeks were scarlet and her eyes very large
and bright, either with fear or anger, or both; that I felt an arm go
round my waist, and a man's rather beery breath close to my ear; that I
cried "Oh!" that rude girls were laughing; and then that Nell was boxing
a man's ears. I am not even quite sure that everything was in this exact
order! but just as I heard that sound of "smack--smack," I saw Sir
Alexander MacNairne not far off, and without stopping to remember that
we were supposed to be Frisian peasant girls, I called to him. I think I
said, "Oh, Sir Alexander MacNairne, come--please come!"
With that, he began to knock people about, and break a path through to
get to us; and some of them laughed, and some were angry. Even in those
few seconds I could see that he was a hot-tempered man, and that the
laughs made him furious. He said things in English, with just the
faintest Scotch "burr"; and as there were no Dutchmen of Mr. van Buren's
type in the rude crowd, the Scotsman had soon tumbled the men about like
ninepins--all except the soldiers--and got close to us.
But the soldiers were not to be thrown off so easily, even by such a big
man as Sir Alexander MacNairne, and Nell and I would have been in all
the horrors of a fight--a fight on our account, too--if Jonkheer
Brederode had not appeared in the midst, as suddenly and unexpectedly
as if he had dropped from the round, full moon.
He must have come from behind me, and my mouth was open to exclaim how
thankful I was to see him, when he hastily whispered, just loud enough
for Nell and me to hear, "Don't seem to know me." Then he began talking
authoritatively in Dutch to the young soldiers, looking so stern and
formidable that it was no wonder the fun died out of their faces (they
were mere boys, all four), and they shrank away from Nell and me as if
we had been hot coals which had burnt them when they touched us.
When Jonkheer Brederode first dashed to our rescue, Sir Alexander
MacNairne had been extremely busy with two of the little soldiers, but
overawed by their countryman's distinguished manner and severe words,
they lost their desire to fight and sheepishly joined their companions.
This gave Sir Alexander a chance to see to whom he owed the diversion,
and to my surprise he exclaimed, "Rudolph Brederode!"
He did not speak the name as if he were pleased, but uttered it quite
fiercely. His good-looking face grew red, and his blue eyes sparkled
with anger. I _was_ astonished, for neither Nell nor I had any idea that
they knew each other; and I was still more startled, and horrified as
well, to see Sir Alexander make a spring toward Jonkheer Brederode, as
if he meant to strike him.
Our skipper stood perfectly still, looking at him, though Sir
Alexander's arm was raised as if in menace; but at that instant the
lifted hand was seized, and the arm was moved up and down rapidly, as if
it were a stiff pump-handle that needed oiling.
It was Mr. Starr who had seized it, and began to shake it so furiously.
Before the tall Scotsman had time to understand what was happening, Mr.
Starr had wheeled him round so that his back was turned toward us, and I
heard the nice American voice exclaiming, "How _do_ you do? Never had
such a surprise. Where's your wife?"
"Where's my wife? That's what I mean to ask Brede--" Sir Alexander had
begun, struggling to get his hand out of Mr. Starr's cordial clasp. But
before I could hear the end of the word, much less the first syllable of
another, Jonkheer Brederode was hustling Nell and me, out of sight of
the others, round the carousel.
"Come with me, and get out of this, quickly," he said, but not in a
scolding tone, such as I had dreaded when he discovered us in such a
shocking situation brought on by our own folly.
I was dying to ask questions, but of course I did not dare; and though I
was afraid at first that Nell would resist, she was as meek as a sugar
lamb.
The motive seemed very mysterious, but I couldn't help fancying it was
on Sir Alexander MacNairne's account that Jonkheer Brederode had wished
us not to recognize him; still I could not think why. When we had talked
about Sir Alexander MacNairne the other day at Amsterdam, the Jonkheer
said nothing about their acquaintance. I wondered if there had been a
quarrel, and if so, what it could have been about, though it was
certainly no affair of mine. Still, it is hard to control one's
thoughts; and I wondered more and more as Jonkheer Brederode hurried
Nell and me back to the hotel, not by the short way we had taken before,
but dodging about through a dozen intricate streets as if he were
anxious to give trouble to any one who might be following. Our skipper
seemed preoccupied, too, which was a good thing for us, as it took his
mind off our crimes. As it was, he actually made no allusion to our
strange costume, our escapade, or even the hateful adventure from which
he had rescued us--for that he _had_ rescued us there was no question.
Sir Alexander MacNairne, with his quick temper, and his ignorance of
the Dutch character as well as the Dutch language, and the privileges
of Kermess week, was making matters worse for us, instead of better,
when Jonkheer Brederode dashed in and saved the situation. What would
have happened if he hadn't come, I dared not think, for there would
certainly have been a fight, and Nell and I might presently have found
ourselves, with Sir Alexander MacNairne, in the hands of the police.
The skipper might easily have enlarged on this, and pointed a moral
lesson, but not a word did he say about anything that had happened.
Maybe, this humiliated us even more than if he had scolded, for his
silence was very marked, and he appeared to take not the slightest
interest in either of us, except to get us indoors, where we could do no
further mischief. His manner was cold; and whether this arose from his
strange preoccupation, or from annoyance with us, I couldn't decide. In
either case, I was thankful when we were in our room, and had taken off
our shawls and the beautiful helmets which now I detested.
But we had not had time to undress, when there was a knock at the door.
Nell opened it, and there stood Lady MacNairne, in a dressing-gown, with
a veil wrapped over her head--perhaps to hide curling-pins. I thought
that Jonkheer Brederode must have roused her up to report our crimes,
and sent her to show us the error of our ways, though to do such a thing
was unlike him. But her first words proved that I had misjudged our poor
skipper.
"Girls," she said, "could you be ready to leave the hotel and go on
board 'Lorelei'--good gracious, I mean 'Mascotte'!--in a quarter of an
hour?"
I almost thought she must be talking in her sleep.
"Why, Lady MacNairne!" I exclaimed, "it's half-past eleven."
"I know," said she. "All the more reason for haste. I'm not joking.
There's a reason why we ought to be off at once. Of course, 'Mascotte'
is your boat, dear Nell, and it's your trip. But you and Phyllis are so
kind to me always, that I'm sure you'll consent without asking for more
explanations, won't you, when I say that it's for _my_ sake, and to save
a lot of bother."
When Lady MacNairne wants anybody to do anything for her, she makes
herself perfectly irresistible. I don't know at all how, but I only wish
I had the art of doing it. Sometimes she is domineering--if it's a man
to be managed--or even cross; sometimes she is soft as a dove; but
whichever it is, you feel as if streams of magnetic fluid poured out of
the tips of her fingers all over you, and your one anxiety is to do what
she wants you to do, as quickly as possible.
It was like that with Nell and me, now. We said, both together, that we
wouldn't be ten minutes, and we weren't. But in spite of the wild speed
with which we flung together the few things we had unpacked, and in
spite of the fact that we were dressed, except for our hats, while Lady
MacNairne was in her wrapper, she was ready before us.
We were to meet in her room, and just as we arrived, dressing-bags in
hand--for it was not a time of night to ring for porters--Mr. Starr
appeared round a turn of the corridor. He didn't see us at first, but
began to say something to his aunt about a "narrow shave," when he
caught sight of Nell and me inside the open door.
I was on the point of asking him what had become of Sir Alexander
MacNairne, with whom we had left him violently shaking hands, when I
remembered that Lady MacNairne had said he was a "relation of hers by
marriage," so I thought, since there was evidently trouble of some sort
between him and Jonkheer Brederode, I had better not bring up the
subject in her presence. Whatever might be the mysterious reason which
was taking us away like thieves in the night, Mr. Starr had the air of
knowing it--as he naturally would, since Lady MacNairne was his aunt;
but no matter which of the other two men was to blame, I was sure _he_
was innocent. He was as nice and helpful, too, about carrying down all
our things, as if it were his interest instead of the others', to get us
out of the hotel and on to the boat, although he is such a lazy, erratic
young man, that he must have been quite upset by the surprise and
confusion.
Jonkheer Brederode had been down-stairs, paying our bills and settling
up with the landlady, who seemed to be the only person not at the
Kermess. As we all walked toward him, to show that we were ready to
start, I caught a few words which the landlady was saying. I am not yet
sure of getting things right in Dutch, but it did sound as if she said
in reply to some question or order of his, "Rely on me. No such
impertinent demand shall be answered."
A stuffy cab, which might have been fifty years old, had, it seemed,
been called by Mr. Starr, who was as sympathetic as usual in the
dilemmas of others. We squeezed in, anyhow, except Jonkheer Brederode,
who sat on the box to tell the driver how to go, his cap pulled over his
eyes, as if it were pouring with rain, instead of being the most
brilliant moonlight night; and Tibe sat on all our laps at once.
Hendrik and Toon sleep on "Mascotte" and "Waterspin," and they were on
board, true to duty, though if they had been anything but Dutchmen, they
would probably have sneaked slyly off to the Kermess. They are not the
sort of persons who show surprise at anything (Nell says that if the
motor burst under Hendrik's nose, he would simply rub it with a piece of
cotton waste--his nose or the motor, it would not much matter which--and
go on with what he had been doing before); so no time was lost, and in
ten minutes we were off, finding our way by the clear moonlight, as
easily as if it had been day.
We had not gone far, when I spied another motor-boat, larger than ours,
but not so smart, in harbor, and I stared with all my eyes, trying to
make out her name, for she had not been there when we came in; but
"Mascotte" flew by like a bird--much faster than she ever goes by day,
in the water-traffic, and I could not see it.
Everything was much too exciting for us to wish to sleep, though had we
stopped quietly in the hotel, we should have been in bed before this.
Jonkheer Brederode advised us to go below, as the air was chilly on the
water, and such a wind had come up that it blew away two cushions from
our deck-chairs. But we would not be persuaded.
Out of the narrow canal we slid, into a wide expanse of water, cold as
liquid steel under the moon, and tossed into little sharp-edged waves
which sent "Mascotte" rolling from side to side, so choppily that I was
glad to get into the next canal, even narrower than the first, such a
mere slip of water that cows on shore, vague, shadowy, shapes, puffed
clouds of clover-sweet breath in our faces as we leaned toward them from
the deck.
The windows of little thatched cottages seemed to look straight into our
cabin windows, like curiously glinting, wakeful eyes; and Jonkheer
Brederode said that, by daylight when the canal was crowded with barges
and lighters, it needed almost as much skill and patience to steer
through it, as to guide a motor-car through Piccadilly in the height of
the season.
It took bribery and corruption, I'm afraid, to get the sluice gates
opened for us in the middle of the night; and Jonkheer Brederode had his
Club flag flying, in case any one proved obstinate. But no one did, so
perhaps--as people are supposed to be quite the opposite of their real
selves in disposition, if waked suddenly--Frisians are weak and yielding
if roused in the night.
It was wonderful to see the moonlight fading into dawn, over the canal,
and the gentle, indistinct landscape, and I wished that Mr. van Buren
could have been with us, as I am sure it was the kind of thing which
would have appealed to his heart--especially if Freule Menela were not
with him, to hold him down to earth.