IX
OFF FOR ANTWERP
For several days the children stayed with the little old woman in hertiny cottage on the edge of the river. Each morning they crossed thebridge and stationed themselves by the Antwerp road to watch the swarmof sad-faced Belgians as they hurried through Boom on their way to thefrontier and to safety in Holland. Each day they hoped that before thesun went down they should see their mother among the hurryingmultitudes, but each day brought a fresh disappointment, and each nightthe little old woman comforted them with fresh hope for the morrow.
"You see, my darlings," said she, "it may take a long time and you mayhave to go a long way first, but I feel in my bones that you will findher at last. And of course, if you do, every step you take is a steptoward her, no matter how far round you go."
Jan and Marie believed every word that Granny said. How could they helpit when she had been so good to them! Her courage and faith seemed tomake an isle of safety about her where the children rested in perfecttrust. They saw that neither guns nor Germans nor any other terrorcould frighten Granny. In the midst of a thousand alarms she calmlywent her accustomed way, and every one who met her was the better for aglimpse of the brave little brown face under its snowy cap. Early eachmorning she rose with the larks, covered the bottom of her barrow withclean white sand, and placed in it the live eels which had been caughtfor her and brought to the door by small boys who lived in theneighborhood. Then, when she had wakened the Twins, and the three hadhad their breakfast together, away she would trudge over the long,dusty road to Malines, wheeling the barrow with its squirming freightin front of her.
Jan and Marie helped her all they could. They washed the dishes andswept the floor of the tiny cottage and made everything tidy and cleanbefore they went to take up their stand beside the Antwerp road. Whenthe shadows grew long in the afternoon, how glad they were to see thesturdy little figure come trudging home again! Then they would run tomeet her, and Jan would take the wheelbarrow from her tired hands andwheel it for her over the bridge to the little cottage under the willowtrees on the other side of the river.
Then Marie's work was to clean the barrow, while Jan pulled weeds inthe tiny garden back of the house, and Granny got supper ready.Supper-time was the best of all, for every pleasant evening they ate ata little table out of doors under the willow trees.
One evening, when supper had been cleared away, they sat theretogether, with Fidel beside them, while Granny told a wonderful taleabout the King of the Eels who lived in a crystal palace at the bottomof the river.
"You can't quite see the palace," she said, "because, when you lookright down into it, the water seems muddy. But sometimes, when it isstill, you can see the Upside-Down Country where the King of the Eelslives. There the trees all grow with their heads down and the sky is'way, 'way below the trees. You see the sky might as well be down as upfor the eels. They aren't like us, just obliged to crawl around on theground without ever being able to go up or down at all. The up-abovesky belongs to the birds and the down-below sky belongs to the fishesand eels. And I am not sure but one is just as nice as the other."
Marie and Jan went to the river, and, getting down on their hands andknees, looked into the water.
"We can't see a thing!" they cried to Granny.
"You aren't looking the right way," she answered. "Look across ittoward the sunset."
"Oh! Oh!" cried Marie, clasping her hands; "I see it! I see thedown-below sky, and it is all red and gold!"
"I told you so," replied Granny triumphantly. "Lots of folks can't seea thing in the river but the mud, when, if you look at it the rightway, there is a whole lovely world in it. Now, the palace of the Kingof the Eels is right over in that direction where the color is thereddest. He is very fond of red, is the King of the Eels. His throne isall made of rubies, and he makes the Queen tie red bows on the tails ofall the little eels."
Jan and Marie were still looking with all their eyes across the stillwater toward the sunset and trying to see the crystal palace of theeels, when suddenly from behind them there came a loud "Hee-haw,hee-haw." They jumped, and Granny jumped, too, and they all lookedaround to see where the sound came from. There, coming slowly towardthem along the tow-path on the river-bank, was an old brown mule. Shewas pulling a low, green river-boat by a towline, and a small boy, notmuch bigger than Jan, was driving her. On the deck of the boat therewas a little cabin with white curtains in the tiny windows and two redgeraniums in pots standing on the sills. From a clothesline hitched tothe rigging there fluttered a row of little shirts, and seated on a boxnear by there was a fat, friendly looking woman with two small childrenplaying by her side. The father of the family was busy with the tiller.
"There come the De Smets, as sure as you live!" cried Granny, risingfrom the wheelbarrow, where she had been sitting. "I certainly am gladto see them." And she started at once down the river to meet the boat,with Jan and Marie and Fidel all following.
"Ship ahoy!" she cried gayly as the boat drew near. The boy who wasdriving the mule grinned shyly. The woman on deck lifted her eyes fromher sewing, smiled, and waved her hand at Granny, while the two littlechildren ran to the edge of the boat; and held out their arms to her.
"Here we are again, war or no war!" cried Mother De Smet, as the boatcame alongside. Father De Smet left the tiller and threw a rope ashore."Whoa!" cried the boy driving the mule. The mule stopped with thegreatest willingness, the boy caught the rope and lifted the great loopover a strong post on the river-bank, and the "Old Woman" for that wasthe name of the boat was in port.
Soon a gangplank was slipped from the boat to the little wooden stepson the bank, and Mother De Smet, with a squirming baby under each arm,came ashore. "I do like to get out on dry land and shake my legs a bitnow and then," she said cheerfully as she greeted Granny. "On the boatI just sit still and grow fat!"
"I shake my legs for a matter of ten miles every day," laughed Granny."That's how I keep my figure!"
Mother De Smet set the babies down on the grass, where they immediatelybegan to tumble about like a pair of puppies, and she and Granny talkedtogether, while the Twins went to watch the work of Father De Smet andthe boy, whose name was Joseph.
"I don't know whatever the country is coming to," said Mother De Smetto Granny. "The Germans are everywhere, and they are taking everythingthat they can lay their hands on. I doubt if we ever get our cargo safeto Antwerp this time. We've come for a load of potatoes, but I am verymuch afraid it is going to be our last trip for some time. The countrylooks quiet enough as you see it from the boat, but the things that arehappening in it would chill your blood."
"Yes," sighed Granny; "if I would let it, my old heart would break overthe sights that I see every day on my way to Malines. But a brokenheart won't get you anywhere. Maybe a stout heart will."
"Who are the children you have with you?" asked Mother De Smet.
Then Granny told her how she had found Jan and Marie, and all the restof the sad story. Mother De Smet wiped her eyes and blew her nose veryhard as she listened.
"I wouldn't let them wait any longer by the Antwerp road, anyway," shesaid when Granny had finished. "There is no use in the world in lookingfor their mother to come that way. She was probably driven over theborder long ago. You just leave them with me to-morrow while you go totown. 'Twill cheer them up a bit to play with Joseph and the babies."
"Well, now," said Granny, "if that isn't just like your good heart!"
And that is how it happened that, when she trudged off with her barrowthe next morning, the Twins ran down to the boat and spent the dayrolling on the grass with the babies, and helping Father De Smet andJoseph to load the boat with bags of potatoes which had been brought tothe dock in the night by neighboring farmers.
When Granny came trundling her barrow home in the late afternoon, shefound the children and their new friends already on the best of terms;and that night, after the Twins were in bed, she went aboard the "OldWoman" and talked for a long time with Father and Moth
er De Smet. Noone will ever know just what they said to each other, but it must bethat they talked about the Twins, for when the children awoke the nextmorning, they found Granny standing beside their bed with their clothesall nicely washed and ironed in her hands.
"I'm not going to town this morning with my eels," she said as shepopped them out of bed. "I'm going to stay at home and see you off onyour journey!" She did not tell them that things had grown so terriblein Malines that even she felt it wise to stay away.
"Our journey!" cried the Twins in astonishment. "What journey?"
"To Antwerp," cried Granny. "Now, you never thought a chance like thatwould come to you, I'm sure, but some people are born lucky! You seethe De Smets start back today, and they are willing to take you alongwith them!"
"But we don't want to leave you, dear, dear Granny!" cried the Twins,throwing their arms about her neck.
"And I don't want you to go, either, my lambs," said Granny; "but, yousee, there are lots of things to think of. In the first place, ofcourse you want to go on hunting for your mother. It may be she hasgone over the border; for the Germans are already in trenches nearAntwerp, and our army is nearer still to Antwerp and in trenches, too.There they stay, Father De Smet says, for all the world, like twotigers, lying ready to spring at each other's throats. He says Antwerpis so strongly fortified that the Germans can never take it, and so itis a better place to be in than here. The De Smets will see that youare left in safe hands, and I'm sure your mother would want you to go."The children considered this for a moment in silence.
At last Jan said, "Do you think Father De Smet would let me help drivethe mule?"
"I haven't a doubt of it," said Granny.
"But what about Fidel, our dear Fidel?" cried Marie.
"I tell you what I'll do;" said Granny. "I'll take care of Fidel foryou! You shall leave him here with me until you come back again! Yousee, I really need good company, and since I can't have you, I know youwould be glad to have Fidel stay here to protect me. Then you'll alwaysknow just where he is."
She hurried the children into their clothes as she talked, gave them agood breakfast, and before they had time to think much about what washappening to them, they had said good-bye to Fidel, who had to be shutin the cottage to keep him from following the boat, and were safelyaboard the "Old Woman" and slowly moving away down the river. Theystood in the stern of the boat, listening to Fidel's wild barks, andwaving their hands, until Granny's kind face was a mere round speck inthe distance.