to Aberbrothwick,
and landed in good time; for in one hour more, and the rocky coast was
again lashed by the waves, and the bell tolled loud and quick, although
there were none there but the sea-gull, who screamed with fright as he
wheeled in the air at this unusual noise upon the rock, which, at the
ebb he had so often made his resting-place.

M'Clise had done his work; the bell was fixed; and once more he hastened
with his vessel to Amsterdam. Once more was he an inmate of
Vandermaclin's house; once more in the presence of the idol of his soul.
This time they spoke; this time their vows were exchanged for life and
death. But Vandermaclin saw not the state of their hearts. He looked
upon the young seamen as too low, too poor, to be a match for his
daughter; and as such an idea never entered his head, so did he never
imagine that he would have dared to love. But he was soon undeceived;
for M'Clise frankly stated his attachment, and demanded the hand of
Katerina; and, at the demand, Vandermaclin's face was flushed with
anger.

"Mynheer M'Clise," said he, after a pause, as if to control his
feelings; "when a man marries, he is bound to show that he has
wherewithal to support his wife; to support her in that rank, and to
afford her those luxuries to which she has been accustomed in her
father's house. Show me that you can do so, and I will not refuse you
the hand of Katerina."

"As yet, I have not," replied M'Clise; "but I am young and can work; I
have money, and will gain more. Tell me what sum do you think that I
should possess to warrant my demanding the hand of your daughter?"

"Produce twelve thousand guilders, and she is yours," replied the
merchant.

"I have but three thousand," replied M'Clise.

"Then, think no more of Katerina. It is a foolish passion, and you must
forget it. And, Mynheer M'Clise, I must not have my daughter's
affections tampered with. She must forget you; and that can only be
effected by your not meeting again. I wish you well, Mynheer M'Clise,
but I must request your absence."

M'Clise departed from the presence of the merchant, bowed down with
grief and disappointment. He contrived that a letter, containing the
result of his application, should be put in the hands of Katerina. But
Vandermaclin was informed of this breach of observance, and Katerina was
sent to a convent, there to remain until the departure of her lover; and
Vandermaclin wrote to his correspondent at Dundee,