I SET the position of the harbor by my pocket-compass, and thenfollowed the course of the first street that lay before me.

On either side, as I advanced, the desolate old houses frowned onme. There were no lights in the windows, no lamps in the streets.For a quarter of an hour at least I penetrated deeper and deeperinto the city, without encountering a living creature on myway--with only the starlight to guide me. Turning by chance intoa street broader than the rest, I at last saw a moving figure,just visible ahead, under the shadows of the houses. I quickenedmy pace, and found myself following a man in the dress of apeasant. Hearing my footsteps behind him, he turned and looked atme. Discovering that I was a stranger, he lifted a thick cudgelthat he carried with him, shook it threateningly, and called tome in his own language (as I gathered by his actions) to standback. A stranger in Eukhuizen at that time of night was evidentlyreckoned as a robber in the estimation of this citizen! I hadlearned on the voyage, from the captain of the boat, how to askmy way in Dutch, if I happened to be by myself in a strange town;and I now repeated my lesson, asking my way to the fishing officeof Messrs. Van Brandt. Either my foreign accent made meunintelligible, or the man's suspicions disinclined him to trustme. Again he shook his cudgel, and again he signed to me to standback. It was useless to persist. I crossed to the opposite sideof the way, and soon afterward lost sight of him under theportico of a house.

Still following the windings of the deserted streets, I reachedwhat I at first supposed to be the end of the town.

Before me, for half a mile or more (as well as I could guess),rose a tract of meadow-land, with sheep dotted over it atintervals reposing for the night. I advanced over the grass, andobserved here and there, where the ground rose a little, somemoldering fragments of brickwork. Looking onward as I reached themiddle of th e meadow, I perceived on its further side, toweringgaunt and black in the night, a lofty arch or gateway, withoutwalls at its sides, without a neighboring building of any sort,far or near. This (as I afterward learned) was one of the ancientgates of the city. The walls, crumbling to ruin, had beendestroyed as useless obstacles that cumbered the ground. On thewaste meadow-land round me had once stood the shops of therichest merchants, the palaces of the proudest nobles of NorthHolland. I was actually standing on what had been formerly thewealthy quarter of Enkhuizen! And what was left of it now? A fewmounds of broken bricks, a pasture-land of sweet-smelling grass,and a little flock of sheep sleeping.

The mere desolation of the view (apart altogether from itshistory) struck me with a feeling of horror. My mind seemed tolose its balance in the dreadful stillness that was round me. Ifelt unutterable forebodings of calamities to come. For the firsttime, I repented having left England. My thoughts turnedregretfully to the woody shores of Greenwater Broad. If I hadonly held to my resolution, I might have been at rest now in thedeep waters of the lake. For what had I lived and planned andtraveled since I left Dermody's cottage? Perhaps only to findthat I had lost the woman whom I loved--now that I was in thesame town with her!

Regaining the outer rows of houses still left standing, I lookedabout me, intending to return by the street which was known to mealready. Just as I thought I had discovered it, I noticed anotherliving creature in the solitary city. A man was standing at thedoor of one of the outermost houses on my right hand, looking atme.

At the risk of meeting with another rough reception, I determinedto make a last effort to discover Mrs. Van Brandt before Ireturned to the boat.

Seeing that I was approaching him, the stranger met me midway.His dress and manner showed plainly that I had not encounteredthis time a person in the lower ranks of life. He answered myquestion civilly in his own language. Seeing that I was at a lossto understand what he said, he invited me by signs to follow him.After walking for a few minutes in a direction which was quitenew to me, we stopped in a gloomy little square, with a plot ofneglected garden-ground in the middle of it. Pointing to a lowerwindow in one of the houses, in which a light dimly appeared, myguide said in Dutch: "Office of Van Brandt, sir," bowed, and leftme.

I advanced to the window. It was open, and it was just highenough to be above my head. The light in the room found its wayoutward through the interstices of closed wooden shutters. Stillhaunted by misgivings of trouble to come, I hesitated to announcemy arrival precipitately by ringing the house-bell. How did Iknow what new calamity might not confront me when the door wasopened? I waited under the window and listened.

Hardly a minute passed before I heard a woman's voice in theroom. There was no mistaking the charm of those tones. It was thevoice of Mrs. Van Brandt.

"Come, darling," she said. "It is very late--you ought to havebeen in bed two hours ago."

The child's voice answered, "I am not sleepy, mamma."

"But, my dear, remember you have been ill. You may be ill againif you keep out of bed so late as this. Only lie down, and youwill soon fall asleep when I put the candle out."

"You must _not_ put the candle out!" the child returned, withstrong emphasis. "My new papa is coming. How is he to find hisway to us, if you put out the light?"

The mother answered sharply, as if the child's strange words hadirritated her.

"You are talking nonsense," she said; "and you must go to bed.Mr. Germaine knows nothing about us. Mr. Germaine is in England."

I could restrain myself no longer. I called out under the window:

"Mr. Germaine is here!"