"Indeed, my son, I am," replied the old man; "and faint for lack of
food."

The girl whispered, "Father, a stranger--a young man!" But Gerard, with
simplicity, and as a matter of course, was already gathering sticks for
a fire. This done, he took down his wallet, and brought his tinder-box
and an iron flask his careful mother had put in.

Ghysbrecht Van Swikten, the burgomaster of Tergon, an old man redolent
of wealth, came riding by while Gerard was preparing a meal of soup and
bread by the roadside. He reined in his steed and spoke uneasily: "Why,
Peter--Margaret--what mummery is this?" Then, seeing Gerard, he cast a
look of suspicion on Margaret, and rode on. The wayfarers did not know
that more than half the wealth of the burgomaster belonged to old Peter
Brandt, now dependent on Gerard for his soup; but Ghysbrecht knew it,
and carried it in his heart, a scorpion of remorse that was not
penitence.

From that hour Gerard was in love with Margaret, and now began a pretty
trouble. For at Rotterdam, thanks to a letter from Margaret Van Eyck,
Gerard won the favour of the Princess Marie, who, hearing that he was to
be a priest, promised him a benefice. And yet no sooner was Gerard
returned home to Tergon than he must needs go seeking Margaret, who
lived alone with her father, old Peter Brandt, at Sevenbergen.
Ghysbrecht's one fear was that if Gerard married Margaret the youth
would sooner or later get to hear about certain documents in the
burgomaster's possession, documents which established Brandt's right to
lands held by the burgomaster, and which old Peter had long forgotten.