Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/83

72 “The biggest  in  Tergon,”  growled  Giles,  fastening on  again.

At this  Kate  sat  quietly  down  and  cried. Her mother came  in  almost  at  that  moment,  and Giles hurled  himself  under  the  table,  and  there glared.

“What is  to  do  now?” said  the  dame,  sharply. Then turning  her  experienced  eyes  on  Giles,  and observing the  position  he  had  taken  up,  and  a sheepish  expression,  she  hinted  at  cuffing  of  ears.

“Nay, mother,”  said  the  girl;  “it  was  but  a foolish  word  Giles  spoke. I had not  noticed  it  at another  time;  but  I was  tired  and  in  care  for Gerard, you  know.”

“Let no  one  be  in  care  for  me,”  said  a faint voice at  the  door,  and  in  tottered  Gerard,  pale, dusty, and  worn  out; and,  amidst  uplifted  hands and cries  of  delight,  curiosity  and  anxiety  mingled, dropped almost  fainting  into  the  nearest  chair.

Beating Rotterdam,  like  a covert,  for  Margaret, and the  long  journey  afterwards,  had  fairly  knocked Gerard up. But elastic  youth  soon  revived,  and behold him  the  centre  of  an  eager  circle. First of all  they  must  hear  about  the  prizes. Then Gerard told them  he  had  been  admitted  to  see  the  competitors’ works  all  laid  out  in  an  enormous  hall — before the  judges  pronounced: “Oh,  mother! oh, Kate! when I saw  the  goldsmiths’  work,  I had like to  have  fallen  on  the  floor. I thought not  all the goldsmiths  on  earth  had  so  much  gold,  silver, jewels, and  craft  of  design  and  facture. But, in sooth,  all  the  arts  are  divine.”

Then, to  please  the  females,  he  described  to them  the  reliquaries,  feretories,  calices,  crosiers, crosses, pyxes,  monstrances,  and  other  wonders ecclesiastical, and  the  goblets,  hanaps,  watches, clocks, chains,  brooches,  &c., so  that  their  mouths watered.

“But, Kate,  when  I came  to  the  illuminated work from  Ghent  and  Bruges,  my  heart  sank. Mine was  dirt  by  the  side  of  it. For the  first minute I could  almost  have  cried; but  I prayed for a better  spirit,  and  presently  I was  able  to  enjoy them, and  thank  God  for  those  lovely  works,  and for those  skilful,  patient  craftsmen,  that  I own  my masters. Well, the  colored  work  was  so  beautiful I forgot all  about  the  black  and  white. But, next day, when  all  the  other  prizes  had  been  given, they came  to  the  writing,  and  whose  name  think you was  called  first?”

“Yours,” said  Kate.

The others  laughed  her  to  scorn.

“You may  laugh,” said  Gerard, “but  for  all  that Gerard Gerardzoon  of  Tergou  was  the  name  the herald shouted. I stood stupid; they  thrust  me  forward. Everything swam  before  my  eyes. I don’t know how  I found  myself  kneeling  on  a cushion at the  feet  of  the  duke. He said  something  to  me, but I was  so  fluttered  I could  not  answer  him. So then he  put  his  hand  to  his  side  and  did  not  draw a glaive and  cut  off  my  dull  head,  but  gave  me  a gold  medal,  and  there  it  is.” There  was  a yell  and almost a scramble. “And then  he  gave  me  fifteen great bright  golden  angels. 1 had seen  one  before, but I never  handled  one. Here they  are.”

“Oh, Gerard! oh, Gerard!”

“There is  one  for  you,  our  eldest; and  one  for you, Sybrandt,  and  for  you,  Little  Mischief; and two for  you,  Little  Lily,  because  God  has  afflicted you; and  one  for  myself  to  buy  colours  and vellum; and nine  for  her  that  nursed  us  all, and risked  the  two  crowns  upon  poor  Gerard’s hand.”

The gold  drew  out  their  several  characters. Comelis and  Sybrandt  clutched  each  his  coin  with one glare  of  greediness  and  another  glare  of  envy at Kate,  who  had  got  two  pieces. Giles seized  his and rolled  it  along  the  floor  and  gambolled  after it. But Kate  put  down  her  crutches  and  sat down, and  held  out  her  little  arms  to  Gerard  with a heavenly gesture  of  love  and  tenderness,  and  the mother, fairly  benumbed  at  first  by  the  shower  of gold  that  fell  on  her  apron,  now  cried  out,  “Leave kissing him,  Kate,  he  is  my  son,  not  yours. Ah, Gerard, my  child! I have not  loved  you  as  you deserved.”

Then Gerard  threw  himself  on  his  knees  beside her, and  she  flung  her  arms  round  him  and  wept for joy  and  pride,  upon  his  neck.

“Good lad! good lad!” cried  the  hosier,  with some emotion. “I must  go  and  tell  the  neighbours. Lend me  the  medal,  Gerard,  I’ll  show  it my  good  friend,  Peter  Buyskens; he  is  always regaling me  with  how  his  son  Jorian  won  the  tin mug a-shooting  at  the  Butts.”

“Ay, do  my  man; and  show  Peter  Buyskens one of  the  angels. Tell him  there  are  fourteen more, where  that  came  from. Mind you  bring  it me  back!”

“Stay a minute,  father,  there  is  better  news behind,” said  Gerard,  flushing  with  joy  at  the  joy he caused.

“Better! Better than  this?”

Then Gerard  told  his  interview  with  the  countess, and the  house  rang  with  joy.

“Now, God  bless  the  good  lady,  and  bless  the Dame Van  Eyck! a benefice, our  son! My cares are at  an  end. Gerard, my  good  friend  and  master, now we  two  can  die  happy  whenever  our  time comes. This dear  boy  will  take  our  place,  and none of  these  loved  ones  will  want  a home  or  a friend.”

From that  hour  Gerard  was  looked  upon  as the  stay  of  the  family. He was  a son  apart,  but in another  sense. He was  always  in  the  right, and nothing  too  good  for  him. Comelis and Sybrandt became  more  and  more  jealous  of  him, and longed  for  the  day  he  should  go  to  his  bene- fice: they would  get  rid  of  the  favourite,  and  his reverence’s purse  would  be  open  to  them. With these views  he  co-operated. The wound  love  had given him  throbbed  duller  and  duller. His success and the  affection  and  admiration  of  his  parents, made him  think  more  highly  of  himself,  and  resent with more  spirit  Margaret’s  ingratitude  and  discourtesy. For all  that,  she  had  power  to  cool  him towards the  rest  of  her  sex,  and  now  for  every reason he  wished  to  be  ordained  priest  as  soon  as he  could  pass  the  intermediate  orders. He knew the Vulgate  already  better  than  most  of  the  clergy, and he  studied  the  rubric  and  the  dogmas  of  the church with  his  friends  the  monks; and,  the  first time the  bishop  came  that  way,  he  applied  to  be admitted  “exorcist,”  the  third  step  in  holy  orders.

The bishop  questioned  him,  and  ordained  him  at once. He had  to  kneel,  and,  after  a short  prayer,