the music and the chants were renewed; and as
they continued, the wind gradually rose, and with the rising of the wind
the bell tolled loud and deep. The tolling of the bell was the signal
for return, for it was a warning that the weather was about to change,
and the procession pulled back to Aberbrothwick, and landed in good
time; for in one hour more, and the rocky coast was again lashed by the
waves, and the bell tolled loud and quick, although there were none
there but the sea-gull, who screamed with fright as he wheeled in the
air at this unusual noise upon the rock, which, at the ebb, he had so
often made his resting-place.

M'Clise had done his work; the bell was fixed; and once more he hastened
with his vessel to Amsterdam. Once more was he an inmate of
Vandermaclin's house; once more in the presence of the idol of his soul.
This time they spoke; this time their vows were exchanged for life and
death. But Vandermaclin saw not the state of their hearts. He looked
upon the young seaman as too low, too poor, to be a match for his
daughter; and as such an idea never entered his head, so did he never
imagine that he would have dared to love. But he was soon undeceived;
for M'Clise frankly stated his attachment, and demanded the hand of
Katerina; and, at the demand, Vandermaclin's face was flushed with
anger.

"Mynheer M'Clise," said he, after a pause, as if to control his
feelings; "when a man marries, he is bound to show that he has
wherewithal to support his wife; to support her in that rank, and to
afford her those luxuries to which she has been accustomed in her
father's house. Show me that you can do so, and I will not refuse you
the hand of Katerina."

"As yet, I have not," replied M'Clise; "but I am young and can work; I
have money, and will gain more. Tell me what sum do you think that I
should possess to warrant my demanding the hand of your daughter?"

"Produce twelve thousand guilders, and she is yours," replied the
merchant.

"I have but three thousand," replied M'Clise.

"Then, think no more of Katerina. It is a foolish passion, and you must
forget it. And, Mynheer M'Clise, I must not have my daughter's
affections tampered with. She must forget you; and that can only be
effected by your not meeting again. I wish you well, Mynheer M'Clise,
but I must request your absence."

M'Clise departed from the presence of the merchant, bowed down with
grief and disappointment. He contrived that a letter, c