Hans Brinker; Or, The Silver Skates

by Mary Mapes Dodge

  V

  SHADOWS IN THE HOME

  Good Dame Brinker! As soon as the scanty dinner had been cleared awaythat noon, she had arrayed herself in her holiday attire, in honor ofSaint Nicholas. "It will brighten the children," she thought to herself,and she was not mistaken. This festival dress had been worn very seldomduring the past ten years; before that time it had done good service,and had flourished at many a dance and Kermis, when she was known, farand wide, as the pretty Meitje Klenck. The children had sometimes beengranted rare glimpses of it as it lay in state in the old oaken chest.Faded and threadbare as it was, it was gorgeous in their eyes, with itswhite linen tucker, now gathered to her plump throat, and vanishingbeneath the trim bodice of blue homespun, and its reddish brown skirtbordered with black. The knitted woolen mitts, and the dainty capshowing her hair, which generally was hidden, made her seem almost likea princess to Gretel, while master Hans grew staid and well-behaved ashe gazed.

  Soon the little maid, while braiding her own golden tresses, fairlydanced around her mother in an ecstasy of admiration.

  "Oh, mother, mother, mother, how pretty you are! Look, Hans! isn't itjust like a picture?"

  "Just like a picture," assented Hans, cheerfully, "_just_ like apicture--only I don't like those stocking things on the hands."

  "Not like the mitts, brother Hans! why, they're veryimportant--see--they cover up all the red. Oh, mother, how white yourarm is where the mitt leaves off, whiter than mine, oh, ever so muchwhiter. I declare, mother, the bodice is tight for you. You're growing!You're surely growing!"

  Dame Brinker laughed.

  "This was made long ago, lovey, when I wasn't much thicker about thewaist than a churn-dasher. And how do you like the cap?" turning herhead from side to side.

  "Oh, _ever_ so much, mother. It's b-e-a-u-tiful! see! The father islooking!"

  Was the father looking? Alas, only with a dull stare. His vrouw turnedtoward him with a start, something like a blush rising to her cheeks, aquestioning sparkle in her eye.--The bright look died away in aninstant.

  "No, no," she sighed, "he sees nothing. Come, Hans" (and the smile creptfaintly back again), "don't stand gaping at me all day, and the newskates waiting for you at Amsterdam."

  "Ah, mother," he answered, "you need many things. Why should I buyskates?"

  "Nonsense, child. The money was given to you on purpose, or the workwas--it's all the same thing--Go while the sun is high."

  "Yes, and hurry back, Hans!" laughed Gretel; "we'll race on the canalto-night, if the mother lets us."

  At the very threshold he turned to say--"Your spinning wheel wants a newtreadle, mother."

  "You can make it, Hans."

  "So I can. That will take no money. But you need feathers, and wool andmeal, and----"

  "There, there! That will do. Your silver cannot buy everything. Ah!Hans, if our stolen money would but come back on this bright SaintNicholas' Eve, how glad we would be! Only last night I prayed to thegood Saint----"

  "Mother!" interrupted Hans in dismay.

  "Why not, Hans! Shame on you to reproach me for that! I'm as true aprotestant, in sooth, as any fine lady that walks into church, but it'sno wrong to turn sometimes to the good Saint Nicholas. Tut! It's alikely story if one can't do that, without one's children flaring up atit--and he the boys' and girls' own saint--Hoot! mayhap the colt is asteadier horse than the mare?"

  Hans knew his mother too well to offer a word in opposition, when hervoice quickened and sharpened as it did now (it was often sharp andquick when she spoke of the missing money) so he said, gently:

  "And what did you ask of good Saint Nicholas, mother?"

  "Why, to never give the thieves a wink of sleep till they brought itback, to be sure, if he's power to do such things, or else to brightenour wits that we might find it ourselves. Not a sight have I had of itsince the day before the dear father was hurt--as you well know, Hans."

  "That I do, mother," he answered sadly, "though you have almost pulleddown the cottage in searching."

  "Aye; but it was of no use," moaned the dame, "_'hiders_ make bestfinders.'"

  Hans started. "Do you think the father could tell aught?" he askedmysteriously.

  "Aye, indeed," said Dame Brinker, nodding her head, "I think so, butthat is no sign. I never hold the same belief in the matter two days.Mayhap the father paid it off for the great silver watch we have beenguarding since that day. But, no--I'll never believe it."

  "The watch was not worth a quarter of the money, mother."

  "No, indeed; and your father was a shrewd man up to the last moment. Hewas too steady and thrifty for silly doings."

  "Where _did_ the watch come from, I wonder," muttered Hans, half tohimself.

  Dame Brinker shook her head, and looked sadly toward her husband, whosat staring blankly at the floor. Gretel stood near him, knitting.

  "That we shall never know, Hans. I have shown it to the father many atime, but he does not know it from a potato. When he came in thatdreadful night to supper he handed the watch to me and told me to takegood care of it until he asked for it again. Just as he opened his lipsto say more, Broom Klatterboost came flying in with word that the dykewas in danger. Ah! the waters were terrible that holy Pinxter-week! Myman, alack, caught up his tools and ran out. That was the last I eversaw of him in his right mind. He was brought in again by midnight,nearly dead, with his poor head all bruised and cut. The fever passedoff in time but never the dullness--_that_ grew worse every day. Weshall never know."

  Hans had heard all this before. More than once he had seen his mother,in hours of sore need, take the watch from its hiding-place,half-resolved to sell it, but she had always conquered the temptation.

  "No, Hans," she would say, "we must be nearer starving than this beforewe turn faithless to the father!"

  A memory of some such scene crossed her son's mind now; for, aftergiving a heavy sigh, and filliping a crumb of wax at Gretel across thetable, he said:

  "Aye, mother, you have done bravely to keep it--many a one would havetossed it off for gold long ago."

  "And more shame for them!" exclaimed the dame, indignantly. "_I_ wouldnot do it. Besides, the gentry are so hard on us poor folks that if theysaw such a thing in our hands, even if we told all, they might suspectthe father of----"

  Hans flushed angrily.

  "They would not _dare_ to say such a thing, mother! If theydid--I'd----"

  He clenched his fist, and seemed to think that the rest of his sentencewas too terrible to utter in her presence.

  Dame Brinker smiled proudly through her tears at this interruption.

  "Ah, Hans, thou'rt a true, brave lad. We will never part company withthe watch. In his dying hour the dear father might wake and ask for it."

  "Might _wake_, mother!" echoed Hans, "wake--and know us?"

  "Aye, child," almost whispered his mother, "such things have been."

  By this time Hans had nearly forgotten his proposed errand to Amsterdam.His mother had seldom spoken so familiarly with him. He felt himself nowto be not only her son, but her friend, her adviser.

  "You are right, mother. We must never give up the watch. For thefather's sake, we will guard it always. The money, though, may come tolight when we least expect it."

  "Never!" cried Dame Brinker, taking the last stitch from her needle witha jerk, and laying the unfinished knitting heavily upon her lap. "Thereis no chance! One thousand guilders! and all gone in a day! One thousandguilders--Oh! what ever _did_ become of them? If they went in an evilway, the thief would have confessed by this on his dying bed--he wouldnot dare to die with such guilt on his soul!"

  "He may not be dead yet," said Hans, soothingly; "any day we may hear ofhim."

  "Ah, child," she said in a changed tone, "what thief would ever havecome _here_? It was always neat and clean, thank God! but not fine; forthe father and I saved and saved that we might have something laid by.'Little and often soon fills the pouch.' We found it so, in truth;besides, the father had a goodly s
um, already, for service done to theHeernocht lands, at the time of the great inundation. Every week we hada guilder left over, sometimes more; for the father worked extra hours,and could get high pay for his labor. Every Saturday night we putsomething by, except the time when you had the fever, Hans, and whenGretel came. At last the pouch grew so full that I mended an oldstocking and commenced again. Now that I look back, it seems that themoney was up to the heel in a few sunny weeks. There was great pay inthose days if a man was quick at engineer work. The stocking went onfilling with copper and silver--aye, and gold. You may well open youreyes, Gretel. I used to laugh and tell the father it was not for povertyI wore my old gown;--and the stocking went on filling--so full thatsometimes when I woke at night, I'd get up, soft and quiet, and go feelit in the moonlight. Then, on my knees, I would thank our Lord that mylittle ones could in time get good learning, and that the father mightrest from labor in his old age. Sometimes, at supper, the father and Iwould talk about a new chimney and a good winter-room for the cow; butmy man forsooth had finer plans even than that. 'A big sail,' says he,'catches the wind--we can do what we will soon,' and then we would singtogether as I washed my dishes. Ah, 'a smooth sea makes an easyrudder,'--not a thing vexed me from morning till night. Every week thefather would take out the stocking, and drop in the money and laugh andkiss me as we tied it up together.--Up with you, Hans! there you sitgaping, and the day a-wasting!" added Dame Brinker tartly, blushing tofind that she had been speaking too freely to her boy; "it's high timeyou were on your way."

  Hans had seated himself and was looking earnestly into her face. Hearose, and, in almost a whisper, asked:

  "Have you ever _tried_, mother?"

  She understood him.

  "Yes, child, often. But the father only laughs, or he stares at me sostrange I am glad to ask no more. When you and Gretel had the fever lastWinter, and our bread was nearly gone, and I could earn nothing, forfear you would die while my face was turned, oh! I tried then! Ismoothed his hair, and whispered to him soft as a kitten, about themoney--where it was--who had it? Alack! he would pick at my sleeve, andwhisper gibberish till my blood ran cold. At last, while Gretel laywhiter than snow, and you were raving on the bed, I SCREAMED to him--itseemed as if he _must_ hear me--'Raff, where is our money? Do you knowaught of the money, Raff?--the money in the pouch and the stocking, inthe big chest?'--but I might as well have talked to a stone--I mightas----"

  The mother's voice sounded so strangely, and her eye was so bright, thatHans, with a new anxiety, laid his hand upon her shoulder.

  "Come, mother," he said, "let us try to forget this money. I am big andstrong--Gretel, too, is very quick and willing. Soon all will beprosperous with us again. Why, mother, Gretel and I would rather seethee bright and happy, than to have all the silver in theworld--wouldn't we, Gretel?"

  "The mother knows it," said Gretel, sobbing.