et's promise; but
Margaret was ill in bed, and Peter, on hearing his errand, affronted him
and warned him off the premises, and one or two that stood by were for
ducking him; for both father and daughter were favourites, and the
whole story was in every mouth, and Sevenbergens in that state of hot,
undiscriminating irritation which accompanies popular sympathy.

So Jorian Ketel went off in dudgeon, and repented him of his good deed.
This sort of penitence is not rare, and has the merit of being sincere.
Dierich Brower, who was discovered at "The Three Kings," making a
chatterbox drunk in order to worm out of him the whereabouts of Martin
Wittenhaagen, was actually taken and flung into a horsepond, and
threatened with worse usage, should he ever show his face in the burgh
again; and finally, municipal jealousy being roused, the burgomaster
of Sevenbergen sent a formal missive to the burgomaster of Tergou,
reminding him he had overstepped the law, and requesting him to apply to
the authorities of Sevenbergen on any future occasion when he might have
a complaint, real or imaginary, against any of its townsfolk.

The wily Ghysbrecht, suppressing his rage at this remonstrance,
sent back a civil message to say that the person he had followed to
Sevenbergen was a Tergovian, one Gerard, and that he had stolen the town
records: that Gerard having escaped into foreign parts, and probably
taken the documents with him, the whole matter was at an end.

Thus he made a virtue of necessity. But in reality his calmness was but
a veil: baffled at Sevenbergen, he turned his views elsewhere he set his
emissaries to learn from the family at Tergou whither Gerard had fled,
and "to his infinite surprise" they did not know. This added to
his uneasiness. It made him fear Gerard was only lurking in the
neighbourhood: he would make a certain discovery, and would come back
and take a terrible revenge. From this time Dierich and others that were
about him noticed a change for the worse in Ghysbrecht Van Swieten. He
became a moody irritable man. A dread lay on him. His eyes cast furtive
glances, like one who expects a blow, and knows not from what quarter
it is to come. Making others wretched had not made him happy. It seldom
does.

The little family at Tergou, which, but for his violent interference,
might in time have cemented its difference without banishing spem gregis
to a distant land, wore still the same outward features, but within was
n