“Joris Van Heemskirk is the name, sir;” and Joris went forward, and asked a little curtly, “What, then, can I do for you?”

“I am Martin Hudde the fisherman.”

“Well, then?”

“If you are Joris Van Heemskirk, I have a letter for you.  I got it from ‘The Dauntless’ last night, when I was fishing in the bay.”

Without a word Joris took the letter, turned into his office, and shut the door; and Hudde muttered as he left, “I am glad that I got a crown with it, for here I have not got a ‘thank you.’”

It was Katherine’s writing; and Joris held the folded paper in his hand, and looked stupidly at it.  The truth was forcing itself into his mind, and the slow-coming conviction was a real physical agony to him.  He put his hand on the desk to steady himself; and Nature, in great drops of sweat, made an effort to relieve the oppression and stupor which followed the blow.  In a few minutes he opened and laid it before him.  Through a mist he made out these words: 

MY FATHER AND MY MOTHER:  I have gone with my husband.  I married Richard when he was ill, and to-night he came for me.  When I left home, I knew not I was to go.  Only five minutes I had.  In God’s name, this is the truth.  Always, at the end of the world, I shall love you.  Forgive me, forgive me, mijn fader, mijn moeder. 
                                             Your child,
          
                                            KATHERINE HYDE.

He tore the letter into fragments; but the next moment he picked them up, folded them in a piece of paper, and put them in his pocket.  Then he went to Mrs. Gordon’s.  She had anticipated the visit, and was, in a measure, prepared for it.  With a smile and outstretched hands, she rose from her chocolate to meet him.  “You see, I am a terrible sluggard, Councillor,” she laughed; “but the colonel left early for Boston this morning, and I cried myself into another sleep.  And will you have a cup of chocolate?  I am sure you are too polite to refuse me.”

“Madam, I came not on courtesy, but for my daughter.  Where is my Katherine?”

“Truth, sir, I believe her to be where every woman wishes,—­with her husband.  I am sure I wish the colonel was with me.”

“Her husband!  Who, then?”

“Indeed, Councillor, that is a question easily answered,—­my nephew, Captain Hyde, at your service.  You perceive, sir, we are now connections; and I assure you I have the highest sense imaginable of the honour.”

“When were they married?”

“In faith, I have forgotten the precise date.  It was in last October; I know it was, because I had just received my winter manteau,—­my blue velvet one, with the fur bands.’

“Who married them?”

[Illustration:  “Madam, I come not on courtesy”]

“Oh, indeed!  It was the governor’s chaplain,—­the Rev. Mr. Somers, a relative of my Lord Somers, a most estimable and respectable person, I assure you.  Colonel Gordon, and Captain Earle, and myself, were the witnesses.  The governor gave the license; and, in consideration of Dick’s health, the ceremony was performed in his room.  All was perfectly correct and regular, I”—­