The Cloister and the Hearth | Page 8

of tar, Gerard," said his
changeable mother. But she added, "Well, there, I will put the crown in
my pocket. That won't be like putting it back in the box. Going to the
box to take out instead of putting in, it is like going to my heart with a
knife for so many drops of blood. You will be sure to want it, Gerard.
The house is never built for less than the builder counted on."

Sure enough, when the time came, Gerard longed to go to Rotterdam
and see the Duke, and above all to see the work of his competitors, and
so get a lesson from defeat. And the crown came out of the housewife's
pocket with a very good grace. Gerard would soon be a priest. It
seemed hard if he might not enjoy the world a little before separating
himself from it for life.
The night before he went, Margaret Van Eyck asked him to take a letter
for her, and when he came to look at it, to his surprise he found it was
addressed to the Princess Marie, at the Stadthouse in Rotterdam.
The day before the prizes were to be distributed, Gerard started for
Rotterdam in his holiday suit, to wit, a doublet of silver-grey cloth,
with sleeves, and a jerkin of the same over it, but without sleeves. From
his waist to his heels he was clad in a pair of tight-fitting buckskin hose
fastened by laces (called points) to his doublet. His shoes were pointed,
in moderation, and secured by a strap that passed under the hollow of
the foot. On his head and the back of his neck he wore his flowing hair,
and pinned to his back between his shoulders was his hat: it was further
secured by a purple silk ribbon little Kate had passed round him from
the sides of the hat, and knotted neatly on his breast; below his hat,
attached to the upper rim of his broad waist-belt, was his leathern
wallet. When he got within a league of Rotterdam he was pretty tired,
but he soon fell in with a pair that were more so. He found an old man
sitting by the roadside quite worn out, and a comely young woman
holding his hand, with a face brimful of concern. The country people
trudged by, and noticed nothing amiss; but Gerard, as he passed, drew
conclusions. Even dress tells a tale to those who study it so closely as
he did, being an illuminator. The old man wore a gown, and a fur tippet,
and a velvet cap, sure signs of dignity; but the triangular purse at his
girdle was lean, the gown rusty, the fur worn, sure signs of poverty.
The young woman was dressed in plain russet cloth: yet snow-white
lawn covered that part of her neck the gown left visible, and ended half
way up her white throat in a little band of gold embroidery; and her
head-dress was new to Gerard: instead of hiding her hair in a pile of
linen or lawn, she wore an open network of silver cord with silver
spangles at the interstices: in this her glossy auburn hair was rolled in

front into two solid waves, and supported behind in a luxurious and
shapely mass. His quick eye took in all this, and the old man's pallor,
and the tears in the young woman's eyes. So when he had passed them
a few yards, he reflected, and turned back, and came towards them
bashfully.
"Father, I fear you are tired."
"Indeed, my son, I am," replied the old man, "and faint for lack of
food."
Gerard's address did not appear so agreeable to the girl as to the old
man. She seemed ashamed, and with much reserve in her manner, said,
that it was her fault - she had underrated the distance, and imprudently
allowed her father to start too late in the day.
"No, no "said the old man; "it is not the distance, it is the want of
nourishment."
The girl put her arms round his neck with tender concern, but took that
opportunity of whispering, "Father, a stranger- a young man!
But it was too late. Gerard, with simplicity, and quite as a matter of
course, fell to gathering sticks with great expedition. This done, he took
down his wallet, out with the manchet of bread and the iron flask his
careful mother had put up, and his everlasting tinder-box; lighted a
match, then a candle-end, then the sticks; and put his iron flask on it.
Then down he went on his stomach, and took a good blow: then
looking up, he saw the girl's face had thawed, and she was looking
down at him and his energy with a demure smile.