interpreter.

"To set your mind at rest," she continued, with a glance bright and warm as a sunbeam, "my father tells me that a few scars will be the worst consequences of what he calls my folly—and the barbarism of your countrymen."

"Barbarism, assuredly," I answered; "but it is to be said for them that the fawn was their game, and they did not understand your behaviour. You ran great risk by defending it. Why did you not offer them money for it?"

"Because the heart is quicker than the head." Then she added archly, "You were not much wiser. It did not occur to you to buy our safety. You were for fighting, one against fifty, with riding-whip against bludgeons and crossbows and guns."

"Perhaps I was more foolish than valiant," said I.

"Nay, I meant no flout," answered the lady, and her eyes were dewy as she looked at me.

"The fat old fellow must have the praise for our deliverance," I said.

"Not from me," smiled the lady.

The gratitude she so expressed drove me to say, hoping to divert her mind—

"By this time, Mat will have brought your fawn."

"How kind of you to take such pains! But my fawn it is not, since your money purchased it from the hunters."

"Honour me by acceptance of it, then."

"A trifle additional to my life. With pleasure. I did not understand perfectly why the man would not take my coin. Said he not something of witchcraft?"

"Only an idle word. The ruffian spoke in amazement that the fawn had taken refuge at your feet."

"It was wonderful to me; the more so that I had never seen such a creature in my life. We have no deer in the Netherlands."

"You are from the Netherlands?"

"My father"—looking fondly and proudly toward the old man, who was deep in a book—"until three years ago, was not the least famous professor in the University of Leyden, the intimate friend of the great Oldenbarneveldt, and of the renowned Van Groot."

"My good old tutor, Mr. Butharwick, will hasten to pay his respect to Doctor Goel. He calls Grotius the second and greater Erasmus, lamp-bearer of learning, the glory of Europe, and I know not what besides."

Mistress Goel turned to her father, and spoke to him in their own tongue, mighty well pleased, as I guessed, to tell him that an admirer of his friend lived so near. The doctor drew himself up in his chair, his wrinkled face transfigured by a radiant smile. His daughter continued—

"My father's enemies, envious of his learning and repute, laid accusation against him of being privy to the conspiracy to murder Prince Maurice. He was thrown into prison at the same time as his friend. Not to prolong my tale to tedious length, he escaped to France. We left Paris three months ago for London, where he met an old acquaintance, Vermuijden by name, who is about to begin great drainage-works in this part of the country, as you probably know."

"He was about to do so," I answered; "but the scheme has come to nothing. The highest court of law in England has made void the King's grant to Vermuijden."

"A court of law has annulled a royal decree!" she exclaimed.

"It is even so," I replied. "The laws of England are not to be overridden at the King's will."

Hereupon followed much converse between father and daughter, of which I made out no more than that they were greatly astonished and in doubt, as if my news had deeply concerned themselves.

Their colloquy ended, Mistress Goel asked me many questions, prompted by the doctor, respecting the rights of the Commoners and their opposition to the drainage of the Isle, repeating my answers to her father, who seemed much disquieted thereby. Hitherto, he had believed that the scheme met with favour from all the inhabitants, excepting some few of the baser sort, and I gathered that he had invested money in the purchase of shares in an undertaking which he supposed to be of unquestioned public advantage, and likely to yield no small gain to the participants.

His anxiety was somewhat relieved when he heard that the Commoners had no rights in the King's Chace at Hatfield, which formed part of the area under Vermuijden's plan.

Suddenly remembering that I had overstaid the limits of decorum and of kindness, Mistress Goel suffering as she must be, I rose to take leave.

"You will not forget to bring your friend to see my father," said she, flushing a little, or so I fancied.

As I withdrew into the common room, Lord Sheffield entered by the front door, and gave order in his imperious style to the obsequious hostess that his presence should be signified to Doctor Goel. He and I exchanged the distant bow of ceremony, for there was no love lost between us two. His ten-years younger brother, Edmund, and I had been dear comrades until Edmund's death; and, indeed, my hatred of the elder grew out of my love for the younger, to whom my Lord Sheffield behaved ever with bitterness and cruelty. Not caring to remain in the same room with "my Lord Arrogancy," as we of the Isle were wont to call him, I went out into the yard to bid Mat bring my horse, and, as Mat had many questions to ask concerning the treatment of the fawn, some time passed before Trueboy was led out of stable. Just as I lifted foot to stirrup, his lordship came out of the back door, toying with his sword. It was one of his whims, or part of his cowardice, never to go unarmed.

"You have a good horse, Master Frank," said he.

I nodded, knowing that he had not come out to praise my horse.

"If you should want a purchaser for him, I would make you a bid," he continued.

"I have no present purpose of selling him," I replied.

"No immediate purpose, but when your father has flung away his patrimony in suits at law against the King, you may be glad to know of a buyer, who will give you your price."

"When that event befalls, I will remember your lordship's promise."

"Do. My friends, Doctor Goel and his fair daughter, tell me you have been exceedingly kind in bribing a rabble crew to call off their dogs from the lady. Pray accept my thanks. It will give you comfort to know that she will not again be exposed to annoyance by the scoundrels of the neighbourhood. To-morrow they remove to our poor castle of Butterwick."

I bowed an acknowledgment of his information, mounted, and rode away. A heedless rider I was, leaving Trueboy to choose the manner of our going. I saw nothing but, now the pale face with steadfast look confronting the threatening crowd, now the face aflush with tender pity, now the arch-light in the brown eyes as she talked with me in the room. And this was one of our invaders! A conquering invader, right surely! A Dutchwoman! Nay, an angel!

How flowingly and trippingly she spoke our English tongue! How divinely she endured her pain! How daintily she mingled raillery and sweetness! No such woman had ever lived on earth before. And one day she could call me Frank, and be my own. Some foreboding that my father and I might be divided by my love, I felt, but none the less determined that she should be mine. That sneering villain, Sheffield, had marked her as his prey, but I had no fear of him. She would know him for the libertine and coward that he was. Why had he told me that to-morrow she would be removed to his father's house? Ten to one, he lied to me, perhaps that he might hinder me from going to the White Hart again. Ha, ha, what a thrice sodden fool to think that! Or it might be that he had some other mischief in his head. Whatever it might be, I would be too strong for him.

For all the way I rode there rang in my ears to the sweetest tune, "You will not forget to bring your friend to see my father." No, I should not forget. To-morrow, early, I would bring my friend.

How long, long ago is it since that bright day of May? And I remember all I felt, and thought better than I remember yesterday.

CHAPTER II

On the morrow I appeared at breakfast in silken