contact with him frequently. He
was always affable (hatefully affable) and obliging, and the thought
of this man made it more and more difficult for her to write,
especially those letters destined for the north of Holland.

One day she asked her mother to think of some plan by which she could
use the censor for her own purposes, without his knowledge, and this
set Mrs. van Warmelo's active mind and resourceful brain working, with
what result we shall see in our next chapter.

CHAPTER VIII

OUTWITTING THE CENSOR

If the method of writing between the lines in chemicals presented
itself to Mrs. van Warmelo's mind for a moment, it was dismissed as
too crude and well-known, and, in consequence, too dangerous.

And yet she found her thoughts reverting persistently to chemicals as
the only solution to the problem before her. One day she took the
strained juice of a lemon and wrote a few words with it on a sheet of
white paper. When dry, there was no trace of the written words to be
seen until she had passed a hot iron over them. Imagine her joy and
satisfaction when they showed up clear and distinct, in a colour of
yellowish brown. Well satisfied with her experiment, she sought and
found a square white envelope of thick paper and good quality, which
she carefully opened out, by inserting and rolling the thin end of a
penholder along the part that was glued. Spreading the envelope before
her on the table, she wrote some sentences in lemon juice on the
_inside_, folding it into shape again and pasting it down with great
care and neatness. This envelope she placed in Hansie's hands, with an
expectant look, when the latter came home that afternoon.

Hansie turned it over, examined it on all sides and shook her head,
puzzled.

"Open it," her mother suggested, "and look inside."

Hansie opened it and, peering into it, shook her head again, more
mystified than ever.

"I give it up, mother," she said. "Come, don't be so mysterious--tell
me what it all means."

Mrs. van Warmelo then took the envelope, opened it with the penholder
again, and, producing the hot iron which she had been keeping in
readiness for the psychological moment, she ironed out the flattened
sheet and revealed to the astonished gaze of her daughter the written
words within.

At first Hansie was speechless with admiration; then she threw her
arms round her mother and hugged her vigorously.

"Really, mother," she exclaimed, "I am proud of you.