At last the outflow ceased, and Walter was just going to peep through the curtains of the glass door, when the door opened again and the republican emerged. Walter heard Klaas call to him:
"There on the corner in Paarden Street, you know. If it costs a dollar more, that's all right. Tell the cabby----"
Walter understood. The republican was to get a cab--for Femke?
Walter waited. In the meanwhile, Mrs. Goremest had locked the door and drawn the curtains, so that it was impossible for him to look in now.
In a short time a carriage drove up, and the republican sprang out of it. The door of Mrs. Goremest's establishment opened again, and Klaas Verlaan with the ostensible daughter of Kopperlith appeared.
"Femke, I am here!" Walter cried, hurrying to her. "I am here. Oh, Femke, don't go with the strange men!"
"What in the devil are you doing here again!" snorted Verlaan, seizing Walter by the collar to pull him back into the restaurant. "What do you want? And who are you?"
"Femke, don't go with the strange men. I will take you home, I, Walter."
"The boy is weak in the upper story," affirmed Mrs. Goremest. "He's been bellowing around her the whole evening like a calf, and he hasn't spent a doit."
Walter reached for Femke's hand; and then he noticed how curiously she was rigged out. She was completely covered. Of her head, face, shoulders, figure--nothing was to be seen. Mrs. Goremest had contributed her cloak; but what would one not do for a Kopperlith? Still, she was saving: Only the stump of one tallow candle was burning. It flickered strangely, giving to everything a ghostly appearance.
"Femke, Femke, for God's sake, don't go with those strange men!"
Tearing himself away from Verlaan, he threw himself at Femke's feet. He pulled aside her cloak and covered her hand with tears and kisses.
"Just like I tell you," declared Mrs. Goremest. "The boy is as crazy as a bedbug."
"Femke, I will never deny you again. Strike me, tread on me, kill me, but--don't go with those strange men."
"Light!" cried the girl peremptorily--a word that even a Dutchman understands.
The republican took the candle from the counter and held it so that the light fell on Walter's face. The boy was still kneeling. Through an opening in her hood the girl looked down on him and was silent. She did not withdraw the hand that Walter held closely pressed to his lips.