the lady who
sometimes over-estimates her duties as chaperon. She wanted to know
about Dordrecht and John of Brabant and the siege, and the inundation
that set the town upon an island; nor would she be discouraged when I
told her flatly that I knew nothing about it, and advised application to
Baedeker.

She lingered, prattling pleasantly of the Merevede, and of the peace and
watery silence into which we had passed, now that Dordrecht was left
behind. She drew Tibe's attention to the low-skimming gulls, and our
attention to Tibe. She asked if we did not smell salt, and insisted on
our sniffing actively to make sure; then cried, "I told you so!" when,
after slipping under a huge railway-bridge, hanging so high that the
train upon it looked like a child's toy, we turned westward and floated
out upon a wide arm of the sea.

Altogether, she would not let us forget her presence for a moment, and
blandly refused to understand when my raised eyebrows telegraphed, "I
didn't hire you for this."

We seemed now to have said good-by to the sheltered coziness of Holland,
just as we had said good-by to several other pleasant dreams of the
past. On either side the land ran away from us and hid beneath the
dancing waves which ruffled the sea's sleeve, so that we saw of it only
long stripes of green, which were great dykes, and irregular frillings
of red, which were steeples and tiled roofs of houses.

The tide was in our favor, and we moved so quickly that Alb thought we
would have no difficulty in reaching Middelburg by nightfall. Large
steamers passed us, their decks piled with cargo, passengers crowding to
the side to stare curiously down upon us as we rocked coquettishly in
their wash. Save for these big floating houses, and broad bowed,
coughing motor-barges, "Mascotte" and "Waterspin" had the wide waterway
to themselves; and when we had taken a southerly course, to enter a
channel between low-lying islands, we were in Zeeland. Still, though we
were skirting the shore of the island of Schouwen, it was as if it
ducked its head rather than submit to the ignominy of being seen by
strangers. It was just as Alb said, "Zeeland was witch-like, illusive,
with the power of making herself invisible." The endless, straight lines
of the dykes protecting Schouwen and Tholen from the terrible power of
the sea, stretched like close-drawn ranks of devoted soldiers--each
stone a knight in armor--defending their liege ladies from an invading
g