Hans had scarcely closed his eyes before he found himself trudging along a thicket; pots of gold were lying all around, and watches and skates, and glittering beads were swinging from every branch.
Strange to say, each tree, as he approached it, changed into a stump, and on the stump sat the prettiest fairy imaginable, clad in a scarlet jacket and a blue petticoat.
The Mysterious WatchSomething else than the missing guilders was brought to light on the day of the fairy godmother's visit. This was the story of the watch that for ten long years had been so jealously guarded by Raff's faithful vrouw. Through many an hour of sore temptation she had dreaded almost to look upon it, lest she might be tempted to disobey her husband's request. It had been hard to see her children hungry and to know that the watch, if sold, would enable the roses to bloom in their cheeks again. "But nay," she would exclaim, "Meitje Brinker is not one to forget her man's last bidding, come what may.""Take good care of this, mine vrouw," he had said as he handed it to her--that was all. No explanation followed, for the words were scarcely spoken when one of his fellow workmen rushed into the cottage, crying, "Come, man! The waters are rising! You're wanted on the dikes."Raff had started at once, and that was the last Dame Brinker saw of him in his right mind.
On the day when Hans was in Amsterdam looking for work, and Gretel, after performing her household labors, was wandering in search of chips, twigs, anything that could be burned, Dame Brinker with suppressed excitement had laid the watch in her husband's hand.
"It wasn't in reason," as she afterward said to Hans, "to wait any longer, when a word from the father would settle all. No woman living but would want to know how he came by that watch."Raff Brinker turned the bright polished thing over and over in his hand, then he examined the bit of smoothly ironed black ribbon fastened to it. He seemed hardly to recognize it. At last he said, "Ah, I remember this! Why, you've been rubbing it, vrouw, till it shines like a new guilder.""Aye," said Dame Brinker, nodding her head complacently.
Raff looked at it again. "Poor boy!" he murmured, then fell into a brown study.
This was too much for the dame. "'Poor boy!'" she echoed, somewhat tartly. "What do you think I'm standing here for, Raff Brinker, and my spinning awaiting, if not to hear more than that?""I told ye all, long since," said Raff positively as he looked up in surprise.
"Indeed, and you never did!" retorted the vrouw.
"Well, if not, since it's no affair of ours, we'll say no more about it," said Raff, shaking his head sadly. "Like enough while I've been dead on the earth, all this time, the poor boy's died and been in heaven. He looked near enough to it, poor lad!""Raff Brinker! If you're going to treat me this way, and Inursing you and bearing with you since I was twenty-two years old, it's a shame. Aye, and a disgrace," cried the vrouw, growing quite red and scant of breath.
Raff's voice was feeble yet. "Treat you WHAT way, Meitje?""What way," said Dame Brinker, mimicking his voice and manner.
"What way? Why, just as every woman in the world is treated after she's stood by a man through the worst, like a--""Meitje!"Raff was leaning forward with outstretched arms. His eyes were full of tears.
In an instant Dame Brinker was at his feet, clasping his hands in hers.
"Oh, what have I done! Made my good man cry, and he not back with me four days! Look up, Raff! Nay, Raff, my own boy, I'm sorry I hurt thee. It's hard not to be told about the watch after waiting ten years to know, but I'll ask thee no more, Raff.
Here, we'll put the thing away that's made the first trouble between us, after God just gave thee back to me.""I was a fool to cry, Meitje," he said, kissing her, "and it's no more than right that ye should know the truth. But it seemed as if it might be telling the secrets of the dead to talk about the matter.""Is the man--the lad--thou wert talking of dead, think thee?"asked the vrouw, hiding the watch in her hand but seating herself expectantly on the end of his long foot bench.
"It's hard telling," he answered.
"Was he so sick, Raff?"
"No, not sick, I may say; but troubled, vrouw, very troubled.""Had he done wrong, think ye?" she asked, lowering her voice.
Raff nodded.
"MURDER?" whispered the wife, not daring to look up.
"He said it was like to that, indeed."
"Oh! Raff, you frighten me. Tell me more, you speak so strange and you tremble. I must know all.""If I tremble, mine vrouw, it must be from the fever. There is no guilt on my soul, thank God!""Take a sip of this wine, Raff. There, now you are better. It was like to a crime, you were saying.""Aye, Meitje, like to murder. THAT he told me himself. But I'll never believe it. A likely lad, fresh and honest-looking as our own youngster but with something not so bold and straight about him.""Aye, I know," said the dame gently, fearing to interrupt the story.
"He came upon me quite suddenly," continued Raff. "I had never seen his face before, the palest, frightenedest face that ever was. He caught me by the arm. 'You look like an honest man,'
says he."
"Aye, he was right in that," interrupted the dame emphatically.
Raff looked somewhat bewildered.
"Where was I, mine vrouw?"
"The lad took hold of your arm, Raff," she said, gazing at him anxiously.
"Aye, so. The words come awkward to me, and everything is like a dream, ye see.""S-stut! What wonder, poor man." She sighed, stroking his hand.
"If ye had not had enough for a dozen, the wit would never have come to ye again. Well, the lad caught me by the arm and said ye looked honest. (Well he might!) What then? Was it noontime?
"Nay, before daylight--long before early chimes.""It was the same day you were hurt," said the dame. "I know it seemed that you went to your work in the middle of the night.
