278 Hans Brinker

“Very well, Gretel, move your arms then, so. Why, your
cheeks are as pink as roses already. I think the meester would
let you in now: he certainly would. Is your father so very
ill?”

“ Ah, jufvrouw,” cried Gretel, weeping afresh, “ he is dying,
I think. There are two meesters in with him at this moment ;
and the mother has scarce spoken to-day. Can you hear him
moan, jufurouw ?”? she added with sudden terror: “the air
buzzes so I cannot hear. He may be dead! Oh, I do wish
I could hear him!”

Hilda listened. The cottage was very near, but not a
sound could be heard.

Something told her that Gretel was right. She ran to the
window.

2

“You cannot see there, my lady,” sobbed Gretel, eagerly ;
“the mother has oiled paper hanging inside. But at the
other one, in the south end of the cottage, you can look in
where the paper is torn.”

Hilda, in her anxiety, ran round past the corner where the
low roof was fringed with its loosened thatch.

A sudden thought checked her.

“Tt is not right for me to peep into another’s house in this
way,” she said to herself; then, softly calling to Gretel, she
added in a whisper, “ You may look; perhaps he is only
sleeping.”

Gretel tried to walk briskly toward the spot ; but her limbs
were trembling. Hilda hastened to her support.

“ You are sick, yourself, I fear,” she said kindly.

“No, not sick, jufurouw ; but my heart cries all the time
now, even when my eyes are’ as dry as yours. Why,
jufvrouw, your eyes are not dry! Are you crying for us?