right sick at
the stomach."

Walter's condition was about the same. All at once he seized her
arm. He thought that he saw somebody--somebody who looked like----

"That's right, dear. Hold fast to me. It's simply death and murder!"

Walter did not say anything.

"Isn't it enough to run anybody crazy?" continued the dear
Juffrouw. "Hold fast to me, and remember that I am your Christine."

He was remembering something else.

"Don't be afraid--Lord, that child's beside himself--nobody shall
hurt you. I will take care of you."

He held on to her arm all the tighter; otherwise he was as if turned
to stone.

"I wouldn't pay any attention to it, sweetheart. But--it is bad
enough. Do you see that girl there with the North Holland cap on? I
wouldn't like to be in her place."

"It is--Femke! O God, it is Femke!"

Shaking off Juffrouw Laps, who attempted to hold him back, he rushed
down the steps and in a few minutes was in the thickest of the fray.

He fought his way through the crowd like a mad-man, soon reaching the
point where he had seen Femke. She, however, had disappeared. A man
with flashy cap and sailor's jacket, who from above had looked like
her escort, was still contending with the crowd. It seemed as if the
two had come arm in arm through Amstel Street.

"Is there a girl here with a North Holland cap on?"

The man was too busy fighting and wrestling for standing-room to make
answer. Meanwhile, Walter noticed that the fellow was struggling
toward the "Herberge," and concluded that his lady must have taken
refuge there.

Walter paid no more attention to the punches and blows he received. He
was only concerned to give as many blows as were necessary to hasten
his arrival at the restaurant. The place was about as badly crowded
as the street, but there was no fighting going on.

Yes, Walter had made a good beginning: yesterday in the "Polish
Coffeehouse," to-day in the "Juniper Berry"--thrown in there, fighting
his way in here.

He was in the restaurant at last, looking for Femke. Now he thought
that he had discovered her, standing on a step, or something of the
kind. With lips tightly closed, her arms crossed, the girl was looking
quietly down on the multitude as if in silent contempt. The rim was
torn from her cap and was hanging down. Walter thought that he even
saw blood on her face--Femke's dear face!

He was exhausted and could not reach her. He looked at her. She did
not see him.

She stood