Lysbeth | Page 3

to him. But he was dead, and Dirk's fine and sensitive
nature recoiled from the thought that it might be said of him that he had
taken advantage of the inexperience of a kinswoman in order to win her
fortune. Also deep down in his mind he had a sincerer and quite secret
reason for reticence, whereof more in its proper place.
Thus matters stood between these two. To-day, however, though only
with diffidence and after some encouragement from the lady, he had
asked leave to be his cousin's cavalier at the ice fete, and when she
consented, readily enough, appointed the moat as their place of meeting.
This was somewhat less than Lysbeth expected, for she wished his
escort through the town. But, when she hinted as much, Dirk explained
that he would not be able to leave the works before three o'clock, as the
metal for a large bell had been run into the casting, and he must watch

it while it cooled.
So, followed only by her maid, Greta, Lysbeth glided lightly as a bird
down the ice path on to the moat, and across it, through the narrow cut,
to the frozen mere beyond, where the sports were to be held and the
races run. There the scene was very beautiful.
Behind her lay the roofs of Leyden, pointed, picturesque, and covered
with sheets of snow, while above them towered the bulk of the two
great churches of St. Peter and St. Pancras, and standing on a mound
known as the Burg, the round tower which is supposed to have been
built by the Romans. In front stretched the flat expanse of white
meadows, broken here and there by windmills with narrow waists and
thin tall sails, and in the distance, by the church towers of other towns
and villages.
Immediately before her, in strange contrast to this lifeless landscape,
lay the peopled mere, fringed around with dead reeds standing so still
in the frosty air that they might have been painted things. On this mere
half the population of Leyden seemed to be gathered; at least there
were thousands of them, shouting, laughing, and skimming to and fro
in their bright garments like flocks of gay- plumaged birds. Among
them, drawn by horses with bells tied to their harness, glided many
sledges of wickerwork and wood mounted upon iron runners, their
fore-ends fashioned to quaint shapes, such as the heads of dogs or bulls,
or Tritons. Then there were vendors of cakes and sweetmeats, vendors
of spirits also, who did a good trade on this cold day. Beggars too were
numerous, and among them deformities, who, nowadays, would be
hidden in charitable homes, slid about in wooden boxes, which they
pushed along with crutches. Lastly many loafers had gathered there
with stools for fine ladies to sit on while the skates were bound to their
pretty feet, and chapmen with these articles for sale and straps
wherewith to fasten them. To complete the picture the huge red ball of
the sun was sinking to the west, and opposite to it the pale full moon
began already to gather light and life.
The scene seemed so charming and so happy that Lysbeth, who was
young, and now that she had recovered from the shock of her beloved

father's death, light-hearted, ceased her forward movement and poised
herself upon her skates to watch it for a space. While she stood thus a
little apart, a woman came towards her from the throng, not as though
she were seeking her, but aimlessly, much as a child's toy-boat is driven
by light, contrary winds upon the summer surface of a pond.
She was a remarkable-looking woman of about thirty-five years of age,
tall and bony in make, with deep-set eyes, light grey of colour, that
seemed now to flash fiercely and now to waver, as though in memory
of some great dread. From beneath a coarse woollen cap a wisp of
grizzled hair fell across the forehead, where it lay like the forelock of a
horse. Indeed, the high cheekbones, scarred as though by burns, wide-
spread nostrils and prominent white teeth, whence the lips had
strangely sunk away, gave the whole countenance a more or less equine
look which this falling lock seemed to heighten. For the rest the woman
was poorly and not too plentifully clad in a gown of black woollen, torn
and stained as though with long use and journeys, while on her feet she
wore wooden clogs, to which were strapped skates that were not
fellows, one being much longer than the other.
Opposite to Lysbeth this strange, gaunt person stopped, contemplating
her with a dreamy eye. Presently she seemed to recognise her, for she
said in a quick, low voice, the voice of one who