within a week the story of what had happened between them was all over marken. geert thysen herself must have told what she had done. certainly krelis did not tell; and marretje, having no one else to turn to, told only her grandfather. but various versions of the story went about the island, and the comment upon all of them by the marken folk was the same: that krelis had played the part of a coward in suffering such words to be spoken to his wife with never a word on his side of reply. old jaap, they say, blazed out into one of[38] his mad rages against his son-in-law. some say that he then laid the curse upon him—but that never will be known certainly, for the bout between the two men took place when they were alone.
what is known to be true is that krelis for a while was as a man stunned; and that when he came to himself again—this was after the little krelis was laid away in the graveyard—what love he had for marretje was turned to an angry hatred because she had let his boy die. he said this not only to his neighbours but to marretje herself—telling her that their child had died because she had borne it weakly into the world and had given it no strength with which to live.
even a strong woman, being well-nigh heart-broken—as marretje was when her baby was lost to her—could not have stood up against a blow like that. and marretje, who was not a strong woman, felt the heart-breaking bitterness of what krelis said because she knew that it was true. very soon she was as feeble and as wan as the little krelis had been. happiness was no more for her, and she longed only for the forgetfulness of sorrow which would come to her when she should be as the little[39] krelis was. and so her slight hold on life loosened quickly, and presently she and the little krelis lay in the graveyard side by side.
she had a very nice funeral, so one of the old women in marken told me: the best bier and the best pall were used, and the minister gave his best address—the one called "the mourning wreath"—at the grave. and, to end with, there was a breakfast in jan de jong's tavern that was of the best too. it was only just to krelis, the old woman said, to say that in the matter of the funeral he behaved very well indeed.
but one thing which he did at that breakfast showed that it was for his own pride, and not for the sake of marretje, that everything was done in so fine a style. on marken there was left no near woman relative of marretje's, and when the guests came to the table they were a good deal scandalized by finding that geert thysen was to be seated on krelis's right hand. old jaap's place was on his left, but when the old man saw who was to take the seat on the right he drew back quickly from the table and left the room.
at that, for a full half-minute there was an awkward pause—until krelis, in a strong voice,[40] bade the company be seated: and added that no one had a better right to the seat beside him than marretje's oldest friend. as he made this speech a little buzzing whisper went around among the company, and some one even snickered down at the lower end of the big room. but there was the breakfast, as good as it could be, before them. it was much too good a breakfast to lose on a mere point of etiquette. the whispering died out, and for a moment the guests looked at one another in silence—and then there was a great scraping and rattling of chairs as they all sat down. and krelis and geert presided over the funeral feast with a most proper gravity—save that now and then a glance passed between them that seemed to have more meaning than was quite decorous in the case of those two: the one being a maiden, and the other a widower whose wife had not been buried quite two hours.
of course there was a good deal of talk about all this afterward; but as public opinion had been moulded under favour able conditions—while the mellowing influence of the good food and abundant drink was still operative—the talk was not by any means relentlessly harsh. the men openly smiled at the proof[41] which krelis had given that his loss was not irreparable; and the women, with a certain primness, admitted that—after all the talk there had been—krelis owed it to geert to marry her with as little delay as the proprieties of the case would allow.
but even this kindly public opinion was strained sharply by the discovery that the marriage was to take place only two months after that funeral feast at which, to all intents and purposes, it had been announced. that was going, the women said, altogether too fast. but the men only laughed again—partly at the way in which the women were standing up for the respect due to their sex, and partly at krelis's hurry to take on again the bonds from which he had been so very recently set free.
here and there among the talkers a questioning word would be put in as to how old jaap would take this move on the part of his son-in-law. but even the few people who bothered their heads with this phase of the matter held that old jaap never would have a clear enough understanding of it to resent the dishonour put upon his granddaughter's memory. he had returned to his home in the kerkehof and was living there, in his own queer way, solitary.[42] he was madder than ever, people said; and it was certain that he had gone back to his old habit of spending in the graveyard all of the days and many of the nights which he passed ashore. often those who passed by night between the hafenbeurt and the kerkehof saw him there—keeping his strange watch among the graves.
