li and Catherine and gave
them news of their son. "Many a weary league we trode together," said
Denys. "Never were truer comrades; never will be while earth shall last.
First I left my route a bit to be with him, then he his to be with me.
We talked of Sevenbergen and Tergon a thousand times, and of all in this
house. We had our troubles on the road, but battling them together made
them light. I saved his life from a bear, he mine in the Rhine; for he
swims like a duck, and I like a hod o' bricks; and we saved one
another's lives at an inn in Burgundy, where we two held a room for a
good hour against seven cut-throats, and crippled one and slew two; and
your son met the stoutest champion I ever countered, and spitted him
like a sucking-pig, else I had not been here. And at our sad parting,
soldier though I be, these eyes did rain salt, scalding tears, and so
did his, poor soul. His last word to me was: 'Go, comfort Margaret!' So
here I be. Mine to him was: 'Think no more of Rome. Make for Rhine, and
down stream home.'"

Margaret Brandt had removed to Rotterdam, and there was no love lost
between her and Catherine; but Gerard's letter drew them to a
reconciliation, and from that day Catherine treated Margaret as her own
daughter, and made much of Gerard's child when it was born. Eli and his
son Richart, now a wealthy merchant, decided that Gerard must be bidden
return home on the instant, for they longed to see him, and since he was
married to Margaret, it was useless for any further strife on the
matter.

But Ghysbrecht, the burgomaster, knew by this time that Gerard had
obtained the parchment relating to Peter Brandt's lands, and was anxious
that Gerard should not return. Cornelis and Sybrandt were also against
their brother, and willing to aid the burgomaster in any diabolical
adventure. So a letter was concocted and Margaret Van Eyck's signature
forged to it, and in this letter it was said that Margaret Brandt was
dead.

In the meantime, Gerard had reached Rome. The ship he sailed in was
wrecked off the coast between Naples and Rome, and here Gerard was
nearly drowned. He and a Dominican friar clung to a mast when the ship
had struck.

It was a terrible situation; one moment they saw nothing, and seemed
down in a mere basin of watery hills; the next they caught glimpses of
the shore speckled bright with people, who kept throwing up their arms
to encourage them.

When they had tumbled along thus a long time, su