That was the beginning of Krelis Kess's courting of Marretje de
Witt--about which, in a moment, all the island blazed with talk.
Until then, in a light-loving way, Krelis had been keeping company
with Geert Thysen. That seemed a natural sort of match, for Geert and
Krelis had much the same bold way with them and well enough might have
paired. But Geert, like Krelis, had a devil of a temper, and it was
supposed that an angry spat between them had sent Krelis flying off in
a rage from her spit-firing--and that the gentle Marretje had caught
his heart on the rebound. The elders, reasoning together out of their
worldly wisdom, perceived that under the law of liking for unlike this
bold-going young fellow very well might be drawn toward a maiden all
gentleness; and that, because of her gentleness, Marretje would find a
thrilling pleasure in the strong love-making with which Krelis would
strive to take her heart by storm. All that, as they knew, was human
nature. Had they known books also they would have cited the case of
Desdemona and the Moor.
However, there was not much time for talking. Krelis was not of the
sort to let grass grow under his feet in any matter, and in a love
matter least of all. Nor were there any obstacles to bar his way. He
had his own boat, that came to him when his father was drowned; and he
had his own house in the Kesbeurt, where he had lived alone since his
mother had ended a notably short widowhood by marrying a second time.
Old Jaap, moreover, was ready enough to accept as a son-in-law the only
man in Marken who ever had styled him Herr Visser, and who in addition
to that unparalleled courtesy had given him in quick succession nearly
a dozen bottles of the best Schiedam. There was nothing to hinder the
marriage, therefore, but Marretje's shyness--and Krelis overcame that
quickly in his own masterful way.
And so everybody saw that matters were like to come quickly to a
climax--everybody, that is, except Geert Thysen, who said flatly that
the marriage was both impossible and absurd. Geert had her own notion
that Krelis was serving her out for her hard words to him, and was only
waiting for a soft word to come back to her--and she bit those full red
lips of hers with her strong teeth and resolved that she would keep
him waiting until he was quite in despair. Then, at the very last, she
would whistle him back to her--with a laugh in his face first, and then
such a kiss as all the Marretjes in the world could not give him--and
the comedy of his mock courtship would be at an end. Sometimes, to be
sure, the thought did cross her mind that Krelis might not come to her
whistle. Then the color would go out of her red cheeks a little, and
as she ground her big white teeth together she would have a half-formed
vision of Krelis lying dead somewhere with a knife in his heart. But
visions of this sort came seldom, and were quickly banished--with a
sharp little laugh at her own folly in fancying even for an instant
that Krelis could hesitate in choosing between herself and that limp
pale doll.
And then, one day, she found herself face to face with the fact that
Krelis had not been playing a comedy at all. The news was all over the
island that he and Marretje were to be married the next Sunday; and
that he meant to be married handsomely, with a great wedding-feast at
Jan de Jong's tavern in Jan de Jong's best style. "So there's an end of
your lover for you, Geert Thysen!" said Jaantje de Waard, who brought
the news to her.
At this Geert's red cheeks grew a little redder, and her big black eyes
had a brighter flash to them; but she only laughed as she answered:
"It's one thing to lay the net--but it's another to haul it in!" And
Jaantje remembered afterward what a strange look was in her face as she
said those strange words.
V
The wedding was the finest that had been known in Marken for years. At
the church the parson gave his "Golden Clasp" address, which was the
most beautiful of his three wedding addresses and cost five gulden.
Then the company streamed away along the brick-paved pathway from the
Kerkehof to the Hafenbeurt, with the sunshine gleaming gallantly on the
white caps and white aprons of the women and on the shiny high hats
of the men, while the wind fluttered the little Dutch flags--and they
all walked much more steadily then than they did when they took their
after-breakfast walk, before the dancing began. In that second walk
the men's legs wavered a good deal, and some of them had trouble in
steering the stems of their long pipes to their mouths. But that is not
to be wondered at when you think what a breakfast it was! Jan de Jong
fairly excelled himself. They talk about it in Marken to this day!
While the wedding-party walked unsteadily abroad the big room in the
tavern was cleared; and when the company was come back again, much the
better for fresh air and exercise, the dancing began. And just then a
very queer thing happened: Krelis led off the dance with Geert Thysen
instead of with Marretje his bride!
Some say that Geert made him promise to do this as the price of her
coming to the wedding; others say that it was done on the spur of the
moment--was one of Geert's sudden whims that Krelis, who also was given
to sudden whims, fell in with. About the truth of this matter there
can be only guess-work, but about what happened there is plain fact:
Just as the set was forming, Krelis dropped Marretje's hand and said
lightly: "You won't mind, Marretje, will you? It's for old friendship's
sake, you know." And with that he took the hand of Geert Thysen, who
was standing close beside him, and away he went with her in the dance.
Those who think that it had been arranged between them beforehand point
out that Geert had refused all offers to dance and had come close to
Krelis just as the set was formed. There is something in that, I think.
But whether they had planned it or had not planned it, the fact remains
that Marretje's place at the head of the dance at her own wedding was
taken by another woman; and as the set was complete without her, she
did not dance at all until the first figure came to an end. They say
that there were tears in her eyes as she stood alone there--and that
she was very white when Krelis took her hand again, at the end of the
first figure, and gave her for the rest of the dance the place at the
head of it that was hers. They say, too, that Geert stood watching
them--when Krelis had left her and had taken his bride again--with a
hot blaze of color coming and going in her cheeks, and with a wonderful
flashing and sparkling of her great black eyes. And before the dance
ended Geert went home.
There was a great crackling of talk, of course, about this slight that
Krelis had put upon Marretje on her wedding-day; and people shook their
heads and said that worse must come after it. Some of the stories about
Krelis's escapades in Amsterdam were raked up again and were pointed
with a fresh moral. As for Geert, the Marken women had but one opinion
of her--and the least unkindly expression of it was that she was
walking in a very dangerous path. But when echoes of this talk came to
Geert's ears--as they did, of course--she merely curled her red lips
a little and said that as she was neither a weak woman nor a foolish
woman she was safe to walk where she pleased.