The Chauffeur and the Chaperon Part 44

With that, she had the paper wrappings off two glittering Frisian head-dresses, like beautiful gold skull-caps. And in the other bundle were two black shawls, like those I had seen several girls of Leeuwarden wearing.

"Oh, how sweet!" I exclaimed. "Thank you so much. I've been wanting some kind of costume ever since Amsterdam, where they were so expensive.

These are to take home and keep as souvenirs, when we are at work in our poor little flat, just as if nothing had ever happened to us."

Nell gave a shudder, but she didn't say that we never would go home and to work again, as she used to say if I spoke of it when we were beginning our trip. Instead she said----

"I don't know about the future; but I'm going to wear mine to-night."

"What, sleep in that helmet?" I asked.

She laughed. "I'm not thinking about sleep yet. It's just the edge of the evening--in Kermess week. Watch me."

She undid her hair, which is very long and thick, and seems even thicker than it is, if possible, because it is so wavy. Then she plaited it tightly into two braids, and straining, and pulling, and pushing the little ripples and rings back from her face, as well as she could, she managed to put on the helmet. Then she tied the shawl over her shoulders; and as she had on a short dark skirt which was unnoticeable, she looked, for all the world, like a beautiful Frisian girl.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _She looked, for all the world, like a beautiful Frisian girl_]

I told her this, and she said, "Will you be a Frisian girl too, and come out with me to see the Kermess at the time when it's worth seeing?"

I was dreadfully startled, and of course said "No." I had never done anything in disguise, and I never would.

"Very well, then," said Nell, "I'll go alone."

I tried to dissuade her; but she did not object to shocking Jonkheer Brederode.

"It would do him good," she said. "Only he won't have the chance this time, because no one would ever recognize me, would they?"

I looked hard at her, and was not quite sure, though the pushing back of the hair and the wearing of the helmet did change her wonderfully, to say nothing of the shawl. But she looked far too beautiful to go out alone in the night. The golden head-dress gave her hair the color of copper beech leaves, and the gleam of the metal so close to the face made her complexion transparent, as if a light were shining through a thin sheet of mother-o'-pearl.

When I found that she was determined, I told her that I would go, rather than she should run the risk alone; but she only laughed, and said there was no risk. Even if our skipper were right about foreigners, surely two Frisian girls of the lower cla.s.ses might walk about at the fair, when the best fun was going on; we should find plenty of others exactly like ourselves. And when I'd tried the helmet on before the mirror, I could not resist wishing that Mr. van Buren might have seen it--simply to amuse him, of course.

The next thing was to steal down-stairs without being seen. We wrapped our shawls over our heads, helmets and all; but we need not have feared, every one was away at some entertainment or other, and we did not meet a soul. Once outside the hotel, we rearranged the shawls, crossing the ends behind our waists, and Nell said that it did not matter if we met the whole world now. As we should not have to open our mouths to any one, and betray our ignorance of Dutch, there would be nothing to show that we were not Frisian girls.

The full moon was just coming up as we left the hotel, but when we had turned two or three corners, and reached the streets where the Kermess was going on, there was such a white blaze of electricity that the moon and her pale light were swallowed up. In the dazzling illumination, the booths and merry-go-rounds, and carousels, with their sparkling decorations of tinsel, seemed to drip gold and silver; and the garlands and trees and fountains of electric light scintillated like myriads of diamonds.

There had been crowds in the afternoon, but now they were five times as dense. The brilliant, open-air _cafes_ were crammed, and the band in each one was playing a different air. Everybody was laughing, and shouting and singing; the people had thrown away their Dutch reserve, and even middle-aged men and women were enjoying themselves like children.

I felt self-conscious and guilty at first, but it was such a gay scene that n.o.body could help getting into the spirit of it; and just as Nell had prophesied, there were plenty of Frisian girls about, in gold or silver helmets, like ours, only n.o.body stared at them particularly, and everybody did stare at us.

I remarked this to Nell, and the fact that no shawls of our sort were being worn; but she laughed and said that if people stared we might as well take it as a compliment; she flattered herself that we happened to be looking our best.

It really was fun. We dared not buy anything on account of our foreign accent; but we wandered from street to street, jostled by the crowd, stopping in front of the gayest booths, and even going into a side-show where a Javanese man was having fits to please the audience. Jonkheer Brederode had refused to take us in the afternoon, when we had shown an interest in the painting which advertised the Javanese creature; but, after all, the fits were more exciting on canvas than they were inside the hot, crowded tent, and some young soldiers stared at us so much that we were glad to get out.

Next door was the most gorgeous _carousel_ I ever saw. It was spinning round under a red plush roof, embroidered with gold and sparkling crystals, and festooned with silver chains. To the strains of the Dutch national air, life-sized elephants with gilded castles, huge giraffes, alarming lions, terrific tigers, beautiful swans, and Sedan chairs were whirling madly, with great effect of glitter and gaiety.

"All my life I've wanted to ride in a merry-go-round," said Nell, "and I never have. Now's our one chance. There's a Spanish bull and a Polar bear to let. Come on."

She seized my hand, and before I realized what we were doing, I was sitting on a large bull, wildly clinging to its horns, while Nell, just in front, perched on the back of a sly-looking white bear.

No sooner were we settled than the four young soldiers who had stared in the fit-man's tent, jumped on some other animals in the procession, and as we began to fly round the big ring, they called out and waved their hands as if they were friends of ours. I was afraid they must have followed us out of the tent, and I could understand enough Dutch to know that they were saying things about our looks. Every one in the crowd laughed and encouraged them, and several people standing by to watch, spoke to Nell and me as we whirled.

It was an awful situation. What with the embarra.s.sment, the shame, the horrid consciousness of being part of the show, and the giddiness that came over me with the motion, it was all I could do to keep from crying.

But if I had sobbed while spinning round the ring on the back of a bull, I should have been a more conspicuous figure than ever, so I controlled myself with all my might. Oh, if only I could have got down, to run away and hide! but there we both had to sit till time for the merry-go-round to stop, and I would have given all that's left of the two hundred pounds Captain n.o.ble willed me, to make the horrid machinery break down.

As we sailed round and round my agonized eyes caught the surprised gaze of a man I knew. For an instant I could not remember how, or where, or how much I knew him; but suddenly it all came back. I recognized Sir Alexander MacNairne, whose acquaintance we made in Amsterdam, through Tibe, and the worst thing was that, from the expression of his face, I was almost sure he recognized us both, in spite of our disguise.

By this time, the sitting on the bull, and the continued whirling at the mercy of a thousand eyes, began to seem a torture such as might have been inflicted by the Inquisition if you had argued with them about some little thing. I'm sure, if any one had sprung forward at this moment to tell me that if I would become a Dissenter of any kind, or belong to the Salvation Army, I needn't be a martyr any longer, but should be saved at once, I would have screamed "Yes--yes--_yes_!"

At last the animals did slow down, and Nell and I slid off our monsters before they had stopped; but instead of improving our situation, we had made it worse.

While we had been sailing round the ring, no one could approach disagreeably near. The minute we tried to mingle with the crowd and disappear in it, however, the impudent young soldiers mingled too, having the evident intention of disappearing with us.

The things that happened next, happened so quickly, one after the other, that they are still confused in my memory. At the time I knew only that the soldiers were following and surrounding Nell and me; that my heart was beating fast, that her cheeks were scarlet and her eyes very large and bright, either with fear or anger, or both; that I felt an arm go round my waist, and a man's rather beery breath close to my ear; that I cried "Oh!" that rude girls were laughing; and then that Nell was boxing a man's ears. I am not even quite sure that everything was in this exact order! but just as I heard that sound of "smack--smack," I saw Sir Alexander MacNairne not far off, and without stopping to remember that we were supposed to be Frisian peasant girls, I called to him. I think I said, "Oh, Sir Alexander MacNairne, come--please come!"

With that, he began to knock people about, and break a path through to get to us; and some of them laughed, and some were angry. Even in those few seconds I could see that he was a hot-tempered man, and that the laughs made him furious. He said things in English, with just the faintest Scotch "burr"; and as there were no Dutchmen of Mr. van Buren's type in the rude crowd, the Scotsman had soon tumbled the men about like ninepins--all except the soldiers--and got close to us.

But the soldiers were not to be thrown off so easily, even by such a big man as Sir Alexander MacNairne, and Nell and I would have been in all the horrors of a fight--a fight on our account, too--if Jonkheer Brederode had not appeared in the midst, as suddenly and unexpectedly as if he had dropped from the round, full moon.

He must have come from behind me, and my mouth was open to exclaim how thankful I was to see him, when he hastily whispered, just loud enough for Nell and me to hear, "Don't seem to know me." Then he began talking authoritatively in Dutch to the young soldiers, looking so stern and formidable that it was no wonder the fun died out of their faces (they were mere boys, all four), and they shrank away from Nell and me as if we had been hot coals which had burnt them when they touched us.

When Jonkheer Brederode first dashed to our rescue, Sir Alexander MacNairne had been extremely busy with two of the little soldiers, but overawed by their countryman's distinguished manner and severe words, they lost their desire to fight and sheepishly joined their companions.

This gave Sir Alexander a chance to see to whom he owed the diversion, and to my surprise he exclaimed, "Rudolph Brederode!"

He did not speak the name as if he were pleased, but uttered it quite fiercely. His good-looking face grew red, and his blue eyes sparkled with anger. I _was_ astonished, for neither Nell nor I had any idea that they knew each other; and I was still more startled, and horrified as well, to see Sir Alexander make a spring toward Jonkheer Brederode, as if he meant to strike him.

Our skipper stood perfectly still, looking at him, though Sir Alexander's arm was raised as if in menace; but at that instant the lifted hand was seized, and the arm was moved up and down rapidly, as if it were a stiff pump-handle that needed oiling.

It was Mr. Starr who had seized it, and began to shake it so furiously.

Before the tall Scotsman had time to understand what was happening, Mr.

Starr had wheeled him round so that his back was turned toward us, and I heard the nice American voice exclaiming, "How _do_ you do? Never had such a surprise. Where's your wife?"

"Where's my wife? That's what I mean to ask Brede--" Sir Alexander had begun, struggling to get his hand out of Mr. Starr's cordial clasp. But before I could hear the end of the word, much less the first syllable of another, Jonkheer Brederode was hustling Nell and me, out of sight of the others, round the carousel.

"Come with me, and get out of this, quickly," he said, but not in a scolding tone, such as I had dreaded when he discovered us in such a shocking situation brought on by our own folly.

I was dying to ask questions, but of course I did not dare; and though I was afraid at first that Nell would resist, she was as meek as a sugar lamb.

The motive seemed very mysterious, but I couldn't help fancying it was on Sir Alexander MacNairne's account that Jonkheer Brederode had wished us not to recognize him; still I could not think why. When we had talked about Sir Alexander MacNairne the other day at Amsterdam, the Jonkheer said nothing about their acquaintance. I wondered if there had been a quarrel, and if so, what it could have been about, though it was certainly no affair of mine. Still, it is hard to control one's thoughts; and I wondered more and more as Jonkheer Brederode hurried Nell and me back to the hotel, not by the short way we had taken before, but dodging about through a dozen intricate streets as if he were anxious to give trouble to any one who might be following. Our skipper seemed preoccupied, too, which was a good thing for us, as it took his mind off our crimes. As it was, he actually made no allusion to our strange costume, our escapade, or even the hateful adventure from which he had rescued us--for that he _had_ rescued us there was no question.

Sir Alexander MacNairne, with his quick temper, and his ignorance of the Dutch character as well as the Dutch language, and the privileges of Kermess week, was making matters worse for us, instead of better, when Jonkheer Brederode dashed in and saved the situation. What would have happened if he hadn't come, I dared not think, for there would certainly have been a fight, and Nell and I might presently have found ourselves, with Sir Alexander MacNairne, in the hands of the police.

The skipper might easily have enlarged on this, and pointed a moral lesson, but not a word did he say about anything that had happened.

Maybe, this humiliated us even more than if he had scolded, for his silence was very marked, and he appeared to take not the slightest interest in either of us, except to get us indoors, where we could do no further mischief. His manner was cold; and whether this arose from his strange preoccupation, or from annoyance with us, I couldn't decide. In either case, I was thankful when we were in our room, and had taken off our shawls and the beautiful helmets which now I detested.

But we had not had time to undress, when there was a knock at the door.

Nell opened it, and there stood Lady MacNairne, in a dressing-gown, with a veil wrapped over her head--perhaps to hide curling-pins. I thought that Jonkheer Brederode must have roused her up to report our crimes, and sent her to show us the error of our ways, though to do such a thing was unlike him. But her first words proved that I had misjudged our poor skipper.

"Girls," she said, "could you be ready to leave the hotel and go on board 'Lorelei'--good gracious, I mean 'Mascotte'!--in a quarter of an hour?"

I almost thought she must be talking in her sleep.