Old Jan, who alone knew it, told me the rest of the story--but speaking
slowly and unwillingly, as though it all still were fresh before him
and very horribly real.
He said that when the boat lifted as that first sea struck her it was
plain enough what was likely to happen to them--for they could not put
about to make the shore again without swamping, and with such a sea
running they were pretty certain to swamp quickly if they went on. But
Krelis was not the sort to give in, and he shouted over his shoulder:
"I've got you into a scrape, Jan; but if we can pull up under the lee
of the graveyard there's a chance for us still." And then he called to
Geert: "Now you can show what stuff you're made of, Geert. Steer for
the graveyard--and for God's sake hold her straight to the sea!" As for
Geert, she was as cool as the best man could have been, and she steered
as well as any man could have steered. The light from the lantern shone
full in her face, and old Jan said that her eyes kept on sparkling and
that her colour never changed.
With that tremendous wind sweeping down on them, and with the waves
butting against the boat, and throwing her head up every instant, even
Jan and Krelis--and they were the best oarsmen on Marken--could make
only snail's way. But it heartened them to find that they made any way
at all--as they could tell that they were doing by seeing the lights
ashore crawling past them--and so they lashed away with their oars and
found a little hope growing again. Presently Krelis called out: "The
water's getting smoother, Jan. Another fifty yards and we'll be all
right!"
That was true. They were creeping up steadily under the lee of the
graveyard, and the closer they got to it the more would it break the
force of the waves. If they could reach it they would be safe.
Just as Krelis spoke, the boat struck against something so sharply that
she quivered all over and lost way. Neither of the men dared to turn
even for an instant; nor could their turning have done any good--all
that they could do was to row on. But Geert could look ahead, and the
lantern in the bows cast a little circle of light upon the furious
sea. As she peered over their shoulders a strange look came into her
face, Jan said, and then she spoke in a voice strained and strange:
"It's a coffin," she said, "and I see another one a little farther on.
The sea is washing away the graveyard--as it did that time long ago!"
And then the coffin went past them, so close that it struck against and
nearly unshipped Krelis's oar.
Jan said that he trembled all over, and that a cold sweat broke out on
him. He felt himself going sick and giddy, and fell to wondering what
would happen should he be unable to keep on pulling--and how long it
took a man to drown. Then--but because of a ringing in his ears the
voice seemed to come faintly from very far away--he heard Krelis cry
out cheerily: "Pull, Jan! If we're getting among the coffins we'll be
safe in a dozen strokes more!"
It was at that instant that a great wave lifted the bow of the boat
high out of the water, and as she fell away into the trough of the sea
she struck again--but that time with a crash that had in it the sound
of breaking boards. Jan knew that they must have struck the other
coffin that Geert had seen, and he was sure that the boat was stove in
and in another moment would fill and sink from under them.
For what seemed a whole age to him there was a grinding and a crunching
beneath the keel; and then, as the boat swung free again, he saw Geert
go chalk-pale suddenly--as she stood peering eagerly forward--and
heard her give a great wild cry. And then her color rushed back into
her cheeks and her eyes glittered as she called out in a strong voice
resolutely: "It's Marretje come to take you from me, Krelis--but she
sha'n't, she sha'n't! You never really were her lover--and you always
were and always shall be mine! And I hate her and I'll get the better
of her dead just as I hated her and got the better of her alive!" And
with that Geert let go her hold upon the tiller and sprang forward and
clasped Krelis in her arms.
Jan could not tell clearly what happened after that. All that he was
sure of was the sight for an instant, tossing beside the boat in the
circle of light cast by the lantern, of a lidless coffin in which lay
wrapped in her white shroud the dead golden-haired Marretje--and then
the boat broached to and went over, and there was nothing about him
but blackness and the tumultuous waves. As he went down into a hollow
of the sea he felt the ground beneath his feet, and that put courage
into him to make a fight for life. Struggling against the gale, and
against waves which grew smaller as he battled on through them, he went
forward with a heart-breaking slowness; and the strength was clean gone
out of him when he won his way at last up the lee side of the little
mound--and dropped down at full length there, in safe shelter amidst
the graves.
"And Geert and Krelis?" I asked.
"With her arms tight about him there was no chance for either of them,"
he answered. And then he went on, speaking very solemnly: "The word
that was truth had been spoken against them. They perished in the wrath
of the Zuyder Zee!"