But a few days hardly had passed after the visit of the archbishop when one morning the Milk Market was in great commotion, all the inhabitants formed in groups, men and women talking and gesticulating with vehemence.
“Have you seen it? Have you heard it? What will become of us?” Such were the interrogations which were heard from all. The answers appeared to satisfy no one and only served to increase the general agitation. The milk girls mixed with the groups, neglecting their business to listen with astonishment to the interesting explanations of Schuermans and his friends. It must have been something very grave, for the inhabitants of the neighbouring streets came in crowds to learn the cause of the disturbance. The sighs and groans which had so long troubled the old basket maker and his wife had been driven from the dwelling of Dewis. Immediately after midnight the specter had promenaded back and forth in the streets, and each time that it passed, had stopped before the door of its friends, and had filled the air with its lamentations. It complained now in a more distinct manner, and cried frequently:—
“Half water! Half milk! Small measure! I have lost my soul!”
It was this the plumber heard, and his wife, and the baker and others. But no one except Dewis could explain these exclamations. He could be silent no longer. He called Schuermans and a few others, and confided to them the secret of what had happened to him. They all agreed that it was the soul of Lyntje alone which troubled the repose of the inhabitants. If it was not, why had it always showed a marked predilection for the house of Dewis? They now recollected that they had often had suspicions of the colour of the liquid which Lyntje sold, and many housekeepers had complained of the smallness of her measure, which applied so well to the words of the ghost:—
“Half water! Half milk! Small measure!”
The following night the same cries and lamentations were heard. There was no more sleep for those that dwelt on the Milk Market. Many of the inhabitants decided to move immediately rather than continue to reside in a street visited by specters and phantoms. They foresaw the time when the market would present the appearance of an abandoned village—when, happily, the plumber Schuermans had a brilliant idea. He proposed to place upon the middle of the market a monument representing the material form of the soul of Lyntje.
“It was,” he said, “a sure remedy against invasions of specters, and had been proved successful many times.” He went on to explain the virtue of this remedy. “Specters, it is well known, are souls which some crime or sin obliges to wander over the earth until they can find some one who will replace them in this world. A statue serves perfectly well as a representative, and consequently produces the same effect.”
Dewis then made known to them that the archbishop had counseled him to erect a statue of the Holy Virgin. After long deliberations it was resolved that they would place two statues at the expense of the neighbourhood. Before the end of the week they set up both. The statuette of Lyntje was placed over a well at the north of the market, that of the Virgin at the south, near the dwelling of Dewis. It is useless to add that from that day they have had no more trouble with specters.
The legend explains the origin of the two images which are still to be seen at the “Marché au Lait.” Several years ago, when wells were replaced by pumps, they put the statuette of the Milk Girl upon the top of the pump. It is a veritable work of art, a jewel. We regret that the name of the sculptor is unknown to us.