"Well, if it must be, I will go!" he said, in a firm yet tender voice. "But one word more, Rika. If I return in three days' time; if I repeat then that I love you madly; if I ask you to be my wife, will you refuse me?" "Cornelis Davie is making fun of Rika Let; land-owners do not marry their farm servants." "I swear that I am in earnest! I have one desire, one wish only. Rika, when I return in three days' time, on Monday, will you meet me here?" A feeble consent was wrung from her. When Kors tried to kiss her lips, she had not the strength to resist; she returned his kiss passionately. Then, not without a pang, he walked rapidly in the direction of the foot-path, not daring to look back. Breathless with excitement and triumph, Rika followed him with her eyes, until he was lost behind a leafy clump of oaks. * * * * * It was fair-time again, but now Rika Let was happy; she dined at Viersel with her former employers the Verhulsts, accompanied by her husband, the fine Kors Davie of Wildonck, Kors the Black, the owner of the Stork Farm. Poor old Davie had fretted and died! Ah! the sorcery of old Zanne Hokespokes was indeed potent; she had changed the loyal Kors into an undutiful son and a faithless lover. Poor Begga was helpless against the spells of the Devil. Nothing could do away with the power of the incantation. "Do not be unhappy, sweet Begga! Marry tall Mile, the lock-keeper; he has neither the money nor the manly bearing of the ex-brigadier, but he will love you better." It was just a year ago, to the day, since Rika Let consulted the witch. The poor dairymaid had reaped ample revenge for the slights cast upon her. She wished to pay a visit to the Verhulsts' and introduce her rich husband to them, for the Verhulsts' wealth was nothing compared to that of the Davies. Rika was gorgeously dressed. Think, _baezine_ Verhulst, of offering her a woolen kerchief from Suske Derk's stall! Feel the silk of her dress; it cost ten francs a yard, neither more nor less. The lace on her large fete-cap is worth the price of at least three fat pigs, and the diamond heart, a jewel which belonged to the late _baezine_ Davie, the mother of Kors, hanging round her throat on a massive gold chain, is more valuable than all your trinkets! At midday there was feasting at the Verhulsts' farm in honor of the fair, and more especially to welcome the Davies. Masters, friends, plowmen and haymakers, all with good appetite, seated themselves round a table laden with enormous dishes brought in by the farmer's wife and Rika's successor. The obsequious Madame Verhulst overpowered her former servant with attention. "_Baezine_ Davie, take one of these _carbonades_? They are soft as butter.... A slice of ham? It's fit for a king. Or perhaps you will have some more of this chine, which has been specially kept for your visit? Or a spoonful of saffron rice? It melts in the mouth."