possession of the burgomaster's wife. Her
enthusiasm for the cause of liberty, to which her most beloved relatives
had fallen victims, blazed brightly, and wrath against the oppressors
of her native land seethed passionately in her breast. The delicate,
maidenly, reserved woman, who was utterly incapable of any loud or rude
expression of feeling in ordinary life, would now have rushed to the
walls, like Kanau Hasselaer of Haarlem, to fight the foe among the men.

Offended pride, and everything that an hour ago had oppressed her
heart, yielded to sympathy for her country's cause. Animated with fresh
courage, she went to Henrica and, as evening had closed in, sat down by
the lamp to write to her mother; for she had neglected to do so since
the invalid's arrival, and communication with Delft might soon be
interrupted.

When she read over the completed letter, she was satisfied with it and
herself, for it breathed firm confidence in the victory of the good
cause, and also distinctly and unconstrainedly expressed her cheerful
willingness to bear the worst.

Barbara had retired when Peter at last appeared, so weary that he could
scarcely touch the meal that had been kept ready for him. While raising
the food to his lips, he confirmed the news Maria had already heard from
the musician, and was gentle and kind, but his appearance saddened her,
for it recalled Barbara's allusion to the heavy burden he had assumed.
To-day, for the first time, she noticed two deep lines that anxiety had
furrowed between his eyes and lips, and full of tender compassion, went
behind him, laid her hands on his cheeks and kissed him on the forehead.
He trembled slightly, seized her slender right hand so impetuously that
she shrank back, raised it first to his lips, then to his eyes, and held
it there for several minutes.

At last he rose, passed before her into his sleeping-room, bade her an
affectionate good-night, and lay down to rest. When she too sought her
bed, he was breathing heavily. Extreme fatigue had quickly overpowered
him. The slumber of both was destined to be frequently interrupted
during this night, and whenever Maria woke, she heard her husband sigh
and moan. She did not stir, that she might not disturb the sleep he
sought and needed, and twice held her breath, for he was talking to
himself. First he murmured softly: "Heavy, too heavy," and then: "If I
can only bear it."

When she awoke next morning, he had already left the room