boatman. There was not a smarter looking craft in Termonde, nor one
better fitted for hard work. It was a pleasure to watch her glide along,
her waist well under water, laden with corn, wood, straw, or provisions;
to see, too, her big brown hull set off with red and blue lines, her
prows ornamented with the long smooth-scaled gold-fish, her shining
bridge and her little cloud of smoke curling out of the black painted
funnel.

That day, the Guldenvisch, like all the other boats on the Scheldt, had
stopped work. She was anchored to a strong rope, and toward seven in the
evening there was nothing to be seen but the light on the top of the
funnel, and the port-holes, round and bright as cod's eyes.

Preparations for the feast of St. Nicholas were in full swing in the
little room under the bridge; two candles burned in the brass candle-
sticks, and the stove roared like water which rushes from a lock when
the gates are opened.

The good Nelle pushed the door and Tobias went in quietly, thinking of
the happy days which he had just recalled.

"Maman Nelle," said a young voice, "I can see the round windows lighting
up everywhere one after the other on the dark water."

"Yes, Riekje," Nelle replied, "but it is not to see the windows lighted
up on the water that you stay near the window, but to see if that fine
lad, Dolf, is not coming back to the boat."

Riekje laughed.