om Amsterdam, and Katerina recovered her
liberty. Vandermaclin was anxious that she should marry: and many were
the suitors for her hand, but in vain. She reminded her father, that he
had pledged himself, if M'Clise counted down twelve thousand guilders,
that she should be his wife; and to that pledge, she insisted that he
was bound fast. And Vandermaclin after reasoning with her, and pointing
out to her that twelve thousand guilders was a sum so large, that
M'Clise might not procure until his old age, even if he were fortunate,
acknowledged that such was his promise, and that he would, like an
honest man, abide by it, provided that M'Clise should fulfil his part of
the agreement in the space of two years; after which he should delay her
settlement no longer. And Katerina raised her eyes to heaven, and
whispered, as she clasped her hands, "The Bell." Alas! that we should
invoke Heaven when we would wish to do wrong; but mortals are blind, and
none so blind as those who are impelled by passion.

It was in the summer of that year that M'Clise had made his
arrangements: having procured the assistance of some lawless hands, he
had taken the advantage of a smooth and glassy sea and a high tide to
remove the bell on board his own vessel; a work of little difficulty to
him, as he had placed it there, and knew well the fastenings. He sailed
away for Amsterdam, and was permitted by Heaven to arrive safe with his
sacrilegious freight. He did not, as before, enter the canal opposite to
the house of Vandermaclin, but one that ran behind the habitation of the
Jew Isaacs. At night, he went into the house, and reported to the Jew
what he had for sale; and the keen grey eyes of the bent-double little
Israelite sparkled with delight, for he knew that his profit would be
great. At midnight the bell was made fast to the crane, and safely
deposited in the warehouse of the Jew, who counted out the ten thousand
guilders to the enraptured M'Clise, whose thoughts were wholly upon the
possession of his Katerina, and not upon the crime he had committed.

But, alas! to conceal one crime, we are too often obliged to be guilty
of even deeper; and thus it was with Andrew M'Clise. The people who had
assisted, upon the promise of a thousand guilders being divided among
them now murmured at their share, and insisted upon an equal division of
the spoils, or threatened with an immediate confession of the black
deed.

M'Clise raved, and cursed, and tore