She struggled on for the few steps that lay between her and the
professor's house, and then she rang a peal which resounded through the
echoing passages, bringing Dortje, the other maid, running out; after
the manner of her class, imagining all sorts of terrible catastrophes
had happened. She uttered a cry of relief when she perceived it was only
Koosje, who, without vouchsafing any explanation, dashed past her and
ran straight into the professor's room.

"O professor!" she gasped out; but, between her efforts to remove the
woman, her struggle with the elements, and her race down the passage,
her breath was utterly gone.

The professor looked up from his book and his tea-tray in surprise. For
a moment he thought that Koosje, his domestic treasure, had altogether
taken leave of her senses; for she was streaming with water, covered
with mud, and head and cap were in a state of disorder, such as neither
he nor any one else had ever seen them in since the last time she had
been fished out of the Nieuwe Gracht.

"What is the matter, Koosje?" he asked, regarding her gravely over his
spectacles.

"There's a woman outside--dying," she panted, "I fell over her."

"You had better try to get her in then," the old gentleman said, in
quite a relieved tone. "You and Dortje must bring her in. Dear, dear,
poor soul! but it is a dreadful night."

The old gentleman shivered as he spoke, and drew a little nearer to the
tall white porcelain stove.