"The men can now bring our ship to anchor," observed Marie. Father
Jogues and his donné, eating with the habitual self-denial of men who
must inure themselves to hunger, still spoke with Van Corlaer about
their mission. But during all his talk he furtively watched the
stairway.

The dwarf sat on her accustomed stool beside her lady, picking up bits
from a well heaped silver platter on her knees; and she watched Van
Corlaer's discomfiture when Lady Dorinda took him in hand and Antonia
yet remained away.




V.

JONAS BRONCK'S HAND.


The guests had deserted the hall fire and a sentinel was set for the
night before Madame La Tour knocked at Antonia's door.

Antonia was slow to open it. But she finally let Marie into her chamber,
where the fire had died on the hearth, and retired again behind the
screen to continue dabbing her face with water. The candle was also
behind the screen, and it threw out Antonia's shadow, and showed her
disordered flax-white hair flung free of its cap and falling to its
length. Marie sat down in the little world of shadow outside the screen.
The joists directly above Antonia flickered with the flickering light.