ther, think of it! Poor thing."

"Ay, wench. She has her own trouble, no doubt, as well as we ours. I
can't abide the sight of blood, let alone my own."

This was a point gained; but when Kate tried to follow it up she was
stopped short.

About a month after this a soldier of the Dalgetty tribe, returning from
service in Burgundy, brought a letter one evening to the hosier's house.
He was away on business; but the rest of the family sat at Supper. The
soldier laid the letter on the table by Catherine, and refusing all
guerdon for bringing it, went off to Sevenbergen.

The letter was unfolded and spread out; and curiously enough, though not
one of them could read, they could all tell it was Gerard's handwriting.

"And your father must be away," cried Catherine. "Are ye not ashamed of
yourselves? not one that can read your brother's letter."

But although the words were to them what hieroglyphics are to us, there
was something in the letter they could read. There is an art can speak
without words; unfettered by the penman's limits, it can steal through
the eye into the heart and brain, alike of the learned and unlearned;
and it can cross a frontier or a sea, yet lose nothing. It is at the
mercy of no translator; for it writes an universal language.

When, therefore, they saw this,

[a picture of two hands clasped together]

which Gerard had drawn with his pencil between the two short paragraphs,
of which his letter consisted, they read it, and it went straight to
their hearts.

Gerard was bidding them farewell.

As they gazed on that simple sketch, in every turn and line of which
they recognized his manner, Gerard seemed present, and bidding them
farewell.

The women wept over it till they could see it no longer.

Giles said, "Poor Gerard!" in a lower voice than seemed to belong to
him.

Even Cornelis and Sybrandt felt a momentary remorse, and sat silent and
gloomy.

But how to get the words read to them. They were loth to show their
ignorance and their emotion to a stranger.

"The Dame Van Eyck?" said Kate timidly.

"And so I will, Kate. She has a good heart. She loves Gerard, too. She
will be glad to hear of him. I was short with her when she came here;
but I will make my submission, and then she will tell me what my poor
child says to me."

She was soon at Margaret Van Eyck's house. Reicht took her into a room,
and said, "Bide a minute; she is at her orisons."

There was a young woman in the ro