Part 16 (1/2)
”The blessed candle.”
”We've not come to that yet: it's only that Zeen has to lie in the dark like this and we have to go to and fro with the lamp to look at him.”
”Zeen would rather lie in the dark.”
”I'll tell you what: Fietje shall run home and fetch something, won't you, Fietje? And say that mother is going to stay here because Zeen is dying.”
Fietje went off. The coffee was ready and when they had gulped down their first bowl, they went to have another look in the room where the sick man lay.
Zeen was worse.
”We must sit up with him,” said Stanse.
”For sure,” said Treze. ”I'll go and tell my man: I'll be back at once.”
”Tell Free as you're pa.s.sing that I'm staying here too,” said Stanse.
”We must eat, for all that,” said Zalia; and she hung the potatoes over the fire.
Then she went to milk the goat and take it its food. It was bright as day outside and quiet, so very quiet, with still some of the heat of the sun lingering in the air, which weighed sultrily. She crept into the dark goat-house, put down the pot with the food and started milking.
”Betje, Betje, Zeen is so ill; Zeen may be dying, Betje!”
She always clacked to her goat like that. Two streams of milk came clattering in turns into the little pail.
People came: Treze and Mite's little girl, with a lantern, and Barbara Dekkers, who had also come to have a look.
”I'm here,” said Zalia, ”I've done, I'm coming at once.”
They stood talking a bit outside in the moonlight and then went in.
”Perhaps my man'll come on,” said Treze. ”A man is better than three women in illness; and Virginie's coming too: I've been to tell her.”
”Well, well,” said Barbara, ”who'd ever have thought it of Zeen!”
”Yes, friends, and never been ill in his life; and he turned seventy.”
Stanse mashed the potatoes; Zalia poured a drain of milk over them and hung them over the fire again.
”Have you all had your suppers?” she asked.
”Yes,” said Treze and Barbara and Mite.
”I haven't,” said Stanse.
Zalia turned the steaming potato-mash into an earthen porringer and she and Stanse sat down to it. The others drank a fresh bowl of coffee.
They were silent.
The door opened and from behind the screen came a great big fellow with a black beard: