Part 15 (1/2)

”Yes,” moaned Zeen.

”How are you? No better yet? Where are you?... Why are you lying flat on the floor like this?”

”Zalia, I'm so ill ... my stomach and....”

”You've never been ill yet, Zeen! It won't be anything this time.”

”I'm ill now, Zalia.”

”Wait, I'll get a light. Why aren't you in bed?”

”In bed, in bed ... then it'll be for good, Zalia; I'm afraid of my bed.”

She felt along the ceiling for the lamp, then in the corner of the hearth for the tinder-box; she struck fire and lit up.

Zeen looked pale, yellow, deathlike. Zalia was startled by it, but, to comfort him:

”It'll be nothing, Zeen,” she said. ”I'll give you a little Haarlem oil.”

She pulled him on to a chair, fetched the little bottle, put a few drops into a bowl of milk and poured it down his throat.

”Is it doing you good?”

And Zeen, to say something, said:

”Yes, it is, Zalia, but I'd like to go to sleep, I'm feeling cold now and I've got needles sticking into my side ... here, see?”

And he pressed both his hands on the place.

”Yes, you're better in bed; it'll be gone in the morning and we'll fetch in the corn.”

”Is it cut?”

”All done and stooked; if it keeps fine to-morrow, we'll get it all into the barn.”

Zalia lifted him under his armpits and they crawled on like that into the other room, where the loom stood with the bed behind it. She helped him take off his jacket and trousers and put him to bed, tucked him nicely under the blanket and put his night-cap on his head.

Then she went and lit the fire in the hearth, hung up the pot with the goat's food, washed the potatoes and sat down to peel them for supper.

She had not peeled three, when she heard Zeen bringing up.

”That's the oil, it'll do him good,” she thought and, fetching a can of water from outside, gave him a bowl to drink.

Then she went back to her peeling. A bit later, she sat thinking of other remedies--limeflowers, sunflower-seeds, pearl barley, flowers of sulphur--when suddenly she saw Mite Kornelje go by. She ran out and called:

”Mite!”

”What is it, Zalia?”

”Mite, Zeen is ill.”