Janus Dousa what
has become of me."

CHAPTER XXXII.

A week had elapsed since Henrica's flight, and with it a series of days
of severe privation. Maria knew from the musician, that young Matanesse
had accompanied Georg, and that the latter was on his way to the
Beggars. This was the right plan. The bubbling brook belonged to
the wild, rushing, mighty river. She wished him happiness, life and
pleasure; but--strange--since the hour that she tore his verses, the
remembrance of him had receded as far as in the day: before the approach
of the Spaniards. Nay, after her hard-won conquest of herself and his
departure, a rare sense of happiness, amid all her cares and troubles,
had taken possession of the young wife's heart. She had been cruel to
herself, and the inner light of the clear diamond first gleams
forth with the right brilliancy, after it has endured the torture of
polishing. She now felt with joyous gratitude, that she could look Peter
frankly in the eye, grant him love, and ask love in return. He scarcely
seemed to notice her and her management under the burden of his cares,
but she felt, that many things she said and could do for him pleased
him. The young wife did not suffer specially from the long famine, while
it caused Barbara pain and unstrung her vigorous frame. Amid so much
suffering, she often sunk into despair before the cold hearth and empty
pots, and no longer thought it worth while to plait her large cap and
ruffs. It was now Maria's turn to speak words of comfort, and remind her
of her son, the Beggar captain, who would soon enter Leyden.

On the sixth of September the burgomaster's wife was returning home from
an early walk. Autumn mists darkened the air, and the sea-breeze drove
a fine, drizzling spray through the streets. The dripping trees had
long since been robbed of their leaves, not by wind and storm, but by
children and adults, who had carried the caterpillars' food to their
kitchens as precious vegetables.

At the Schagensteg Maria saw Adrian, and overtook him. The boy was
sauntering idly along, counting aloud. The burgomaster's wife called to
him, and asked why he was not at school and what he was doing there.

"I'm counting," was the reply. "Now there are nine."

"Nine?"

"I've met nine dead bodies so far; the rector sent us home. Master
Dirks is dead, and there were only thirteen of us to-day. There are some
people bringing another one."

Maria drew her kerchief tighter an