72 Hans Brinker

Peter van Holp took out a bulgy gold watch, and, holding it
toward the moonlight as well as his benumbed fingers would
permit, called out, —

“ Halloo, it’s nearly eight o’clock! St. Nicholas is about
by this time; and I, for one, want to see the little ones stare.
Good-night ! ”

“‘Good-night !”” cried one and all; and off they started,
shouting, singing and laughing as they flew along.

Where were Gretel and Hans?

Ah! how suddenly joy sometimes comes to an end !

They had skated about an hour, — keeping aloof from the
others, quite contented with each other; and Gretel had ex-
claimed, “Ah, Hans, how beautiful, how fine, to think that
we both have skates! I tell you the stork brought us good
luck,” — when they heard something.

It was a scream, avery faint scream. No one else upon
the canal observed it; but Hans knew its meaning too well.
Gretel saw him turn white in the moonlight as he hastily tore
off his skates.

“The father!” he cried. “He has frightened our
mother;”’ and Gretel ran after him toward the house as hard
as she could.