"I come from Viersel," she replied, in a very timid voice.
"Then we are neighbors, and almost fellow-villagers, for I live at Wildonck, and was on my way thither."
"You will never reach it, if you follow this road."
"Egad! I don't deny it, my pretty one! A moment ago I thought myself a fool for losing my way. Now I bless my stupidity."
She did not reply to this compliment, but flushed crimson.
He would not set her free. The vision of Begga, sullen and displeased at the loss of the knife, grew fainter and fainter. In this frame of mind he welcomed the stranger gladly, as a pleasant diversion from the thoughts which had tormented him just before.
"What is your name, my flower of Viersel?"
"Hendrika Let—Rika."
"That has always been one of my favorite names. It was my mother's. Do your parents live far from here?"
"My parents! I never knew them. I am a servant at boer Verhulst's, whose farm you see down there, a short distance away behind the alder-trees."