devotion to the young Count de Buren who was under his special care, that brought him to his death. Dost thou know all about it?”
“I know only what Vrouw Voorhaas has told me, of his being captured and killed by the cruel Duke of Alva,” answered Jacqueline.
“Then I can tell thee more, and I will some time. Right glad I am that it has fallen to my lot to help and befriend thee, for so I can render service to thy dead father who was always more than kind to me.”
All the morning Jacqueline sat by the sick woman’s bedside, moistening her parched lips with water, cooling her feverish brow with refreshing compresses, and tending to every unspoken want with a devotion born of love and remorse. At no time did Vrouw Voorhaas become sane and conscious of her surroundings, and her feverish delirium increased as the day wore on. It wrung the girl’s tender heart to hear her cry out against the pangs of hunger and imagine that
