"That's a loathsome lot of stuff, mother. There is a good eye-clinic in Leyden. But there is also a good one here. Go to it soon--now--to-day." The mother, a strong, bony woman, looked at him through her straggling hair, in an irresolute, dissatisfied way. "Curse 'em--those quacks! You do it instead. You can do it just as well." "I'll not do it, mother, positively. And think of it! If you do not go quickly, your child will surely be stark blind. Go! It is your duty to." "How is it, Markus? Can't you do it, or don't you dare to, that you send me off to those murderers?" Markus regarded her several moments, and then said, gently: "Mother, it is your own fault--you know it very well. I may not give you help, but it is not on account of the police. There in the town they will give you good advice. But go now, quickly, or the blindness of your child will be upon your conscience." With a sullen look the woman turned away, and Johannes asked in a whisper: "Are these doctors more clever than Markus?" "They know enough for this," said Markus, abruptly. [1] Rust-oord = Place of repose. [2] Nooit-gedacht = Beyond thought. [3] Gouda = Name of town. IV In the heat of the afternoon the Fair-folk went to sleep. They lay snoring everywhere--on straw or heaps of rags, in ugly, ungainly postures. But the children continued in motion, and often here and there the sound of their teasing and crying could be heard. Johannes strolled around dejectedly. To go and lie calmly down, to sleep between those vile men, as Markus did, was impossible. Rank odors pervaded everything, and he was afraid, too, of vermin. Should he go walk in the town park, or between the sunny polders? Although he was ashamed to run away, he could not remain in peace. Again that frightful feeling arose, of unfitness for his great task. He was too weak--too sensitive. He thought, with a painful longing, of the cool, stately, and peaceful parlors in the houses of the town, with furniture neatly dusted by tidy maids. He thought, too, of Aunt Seréna and her pretty, old-fashioned house, and of her large, shady garden, where surely the raspberries were now ripe. Strolling moodily along, he came upon the green wagon, and behold, there was Marjon, lying in peaceful sleep. She lay on a shaggy, red-and-yellow horse-blanket, and her lean arms and scrawny neck were bare. She was so still--her knees drawn up and her cheek in her hand--that one could not tell whether she was really sleeping, or lying awake with closed eyes. The monkey sat close beside her in the hot sun, contentedly playing with a cocoanut. Johannes felt touched, and went to sit down against the wheel of the wagon. Looking intently at the dear little girl, he thought over her troubled, wandering life.