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diff --git a/38895-h/38895-h.htm b/38895-h/38895-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4903022 --- /dev/null +++ b/38895-h/38895-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,35782 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Cloister and the Hearth, by Charles Reade. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + text-indent: 1.25em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + img {border: 0;} + .tnote {border: dashed 1px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + ins {text-decoration:none; border-bottom: thin dotted gray;} + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + .copyright {text-align: center; font-size: 70%;} + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%; text-align: justify;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .small {font-size: 70%;} + .big {font-size: 110%;} + .adtitle2 {font-size: 150%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + .adtitle {font-size: 200%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + + .author {font-size: 120%; text-align: center;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .chaptertitle {text-align: center; font-size: 110%; font-weight: bold; margin-bottom: 1.5em;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 90%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + .attrib {font-style: italic; font-size: 70%; text-align: left;} + .unindent {margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + .right {text-align: right;} + .poem {margin-left: 30%; text-align: left;} + .poem2 {margin-left: 15%; text-align: left;} + .sig {margin-right: 10%; text-align: right;} + + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align:baseline; + position: relative; + bottom: 0.33em; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + .cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; margin: -0.2em 0.1em 0; margin-top: 0%; + padding: 0; line-height: .75em; font-size: 300%; text-align: justify;} + .cap {text-align: justify;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cloister and the Hearth, by Charles Reade + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Cloister and the Hearth + A Tale of the Middle Ages + +Author: Charles Reade + +Illustrator: Evelyn Paul + +Release Date: February 16, 2012 [EBook #38895] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH *** + + + + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="413" height="600" alt="Cover" title="" /> +</div> + +<div><br /><div class='tnote'><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b> Due to the contraints of +HTML one of the diacritical marks used in this text, (a long macron over two letters), +could not be represented exactly. Instead the following markup was used "d[=oe]th."</div></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><i>The International Classics</i></h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Classics"> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Adam Bede.</span> George Eliot</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">A Tale of Two Cities.</span> Charles Dickens</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Cloister and the Hearth.</span> Charles Reade</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">David Copperfield.</span> Charles Dickens</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Ivanhoe.</span> Sir Walter Scott</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jane Eyre.</span> Charlotte Brontë</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Lorna Doone.</span> R. D. Blackmore</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Quentin Durward.</span> Sir Walter Scott</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Three Musketeers.</span> Alexandre Dumas</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Twenty Years After.</span> Alexandre Dumas</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Vanity Fair.</span> William Makepeace Thackeray</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Wuthering Heights.</span> Emily Brontë</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Westward Ho!</span> Charles Kingsley</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Arabian Nights.</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Hunchback of Notre Dame.</span> Victor Hugo</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Wreck of the Grosvenor.</span> W. Clark Russell</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Black Beauty.</span> Anna Sewell</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Talisman.</span> Sir Walter Scott</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Old Curiosity Shop.</span> Charles Dickens</td></tr> +</table></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 415px;"><a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a> +<img src="images/illus004.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="ALL IN A MOMENT SHE WAS LOOKING AT HIM, FULL" title="" /> +<span class="caption">ALL IN A MOMENT SHE WAS LOOKING AT HIM, FULL<br /> +<i>Fr.</i> [<i><a href="#Page_593">P. 593</a></i>]</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h1>The Cloister and the Hearth</h1> + +<div class='center'>A TALE OF THE MIDDLE AGES<br /> +<br /><br /> +BY<br /> +<span class='author'>CHARLES READE</span><br /> + +<br /><br /><br /> +WITH SIXTEEN COLOURED ILLUSTRATIONS<br /> +BY<br /> +EVELYN PAUL<br /> +<br /><br /><br /><br /></div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 107px;"> +<img src="images/illus005.png" width="107" height="100" alt="Emblem" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='center'><br /><br /><br /> +NEW YORK<br /> +DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY<br /> +1931<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='copyright'> +PUBLISHED IN U. S. A., 1922<br /> +By DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, INC.<br /> +<br /> +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br /> +BY THE CORNWALL PRESS, INC.<br /> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> + + +<div class='unindent'><span class="smcap">A small</span> portion of this tale appeared in <i>Once a Week</i>, July—September, +1859, under the title of "A Good Fight."</div> + +<p>After writing it, I took wider views of the subject, and also felt +uneasy at having deviated <i>unnecessarily</i> from the historical outline +of a true story. These two sentiments have cost me more than a +year's very hard labour, which I venture to think has not been wasted. +After this plain statement I trust all who comment on this work will +see that, to describe it as a reprint, would be unfair to the public and +to me. The English language is copious and, in any true man's +hands, quite able to convey the truth; namely, that one fifth of the +present work is a reprint, and four fifths of it a new composition.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='left'>All in a moment she was looking at him, full</td><td align='left'><i><a href="#frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> </td><td align='right'><span class='small'>PAGE</span></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>They had taught him penmanship</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>She turned her head away, and her long eyelashes drooped sweetly</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Not more than thirty feet below him were Margaret and Martin</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Suddenly a huge dog burst out of the coppice</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_102">102</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>In that strange and mixed attitude of tender offices and deadly suspicion the trio did walk</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_150">150</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Denys saw a steel point come out of the Abbot</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_216">216</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>They unbonneted and louted low, and she curtsied</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The constant lover lay silent on the snow</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The black boat driving bottom upward</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_430">430</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The slighted beauty started to her feet</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_474">474</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"Aha! ladies," said she, "here is a rival an' ye will"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_490">490</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Soon Gerard was at Father Anselm's knees</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_506">506</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Margaret had moments of bliss</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_548">548</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>He scanned, with great tearful eyes, this strange figure that looked so wild</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_652">652</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The death of Gerard</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_704">704</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> +<h2>THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE CLOISTER & THE HEARTH</h2> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>NOT a day passes over the earth, but men and women of +no note do great deeds, speak great words, and suffer +noble sorrows. Of these obscure heroes, philosophers, +and martyrs, the greater part will never be known till that hour, +when many that are great shall be small, and the small great; but +of others the world's knowledge may be said to sleep: their lives +and characters lie hidden from nations in the annals that record +them. The general reader cannot feel them, they are presented +so curtly and coldly: they are not like breathing stories appealing +to his heart, but little historic hailstones striking him but to glance +off his bosom: nor can he understand them; for epitomes are not +narratives, as skeletons are not human figures.</div> + +<p>Thus records of prime truths remain a dead letter to plain folk; +the writers have left so much to the imagination, and imagination +is so rare a gift. Here, then, the writer of fiction may be of use +to the public—as an interpreter.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>There is a musty chronicle, written in tolerable Latin, and in +it a chapter where every sentence holds a fact. Here is told, with +harsh brevity, the strange history of a pair, who lived untrumpeted, +and died unsung, four hundred years ago; and lie now, as unpitied, +in that stern page, as fossils in a rock. Thus, living or dead, Fate +is still unjust to them. For if I can but show you what lies below +that dry chronicler's words, methinks you will correct the indifference +of centuries, and give those two sore tried souls a place in your +heart—for a day.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>It was past the middle of the fifteenth century, Louis XI. was +sovereign of France; Edward IV. was wrongful King of England; +and Philip "the Good," having by force and cunning dispossessed +his cousin Jacqueline, and broken her heart, reigned undisturbed +this many years in Holland, where our tale begins.</p> + +<p>Elias, and Catherine his wife, lived in the little town of Tergou.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> +He traded, wholesale and retail, in cloth, silk, brown holland, and, +above all, in curried leather, a material highly valued by the middling +people, because it would stand twenty years' wear, and turn +an ordinary knife, no small virtue in a jerkin of that century, in +which folk were so liberal of their steel; even at dinner a man +would leave his meat awhile, and carve you his neighbour, on a very +moderate difference of opinion.</p> + +<p>The couple were well to do, and would have been free from all +earthly care, but for nine children. When these were coming into +the world, one per annum, each was hailed with rejoicings, and +the saints were thanked, not expostulated with; and when parents +and children were all young together, the latter were looked upon +as lovely little playthings invented by Heaven for the amusement, +joy, and evening solace of people in business.</p> + +<p>But as the olive-branches shot up, and the parents grew older, +and saw with their own eyes the fate of large families, misgivings +and care mingled with their love. They belonged to a singularly +wise and provident people: in Holland reckless parents were as +rare as disobedient children. So now when the huge loaf came in +on a gigantic trencher, looking like a fortress in its moat, and, +the tour of the table once made, seemed to have melted away, Elias +and Catherine would look at one another and say, "Who is to find +bread for them all when we are gone?"</p> + +<p>At this observation the younger ones needed all their filial respect +to keep their little Dutch countenances; for in their opinion +dinner and supper came by nature like sunrise and sunset, and, +so long as that luminary should travel round the earth, so long +<i>must</i> the brown loaf go round their family circle, and set in their +stomachs only to rise again in the family oven. But the remark +awakened the national thoughtfulness of the elder boys, and being +often repeated, set several of the family thinking, some of them +good thoughts, some ill thoughts, according to the nature of the +thinkers.</p> + +<p>"Kate, the children grow so, this table will soon be too +small."</p> + +<p>"We cannot afford it, Eli," replied Catherine, answering not his +words, but his thought, after the manner of women.</p> + +<p>Their anxiety for the future took at times a less dismal but more +mortifying turn. The free burghers had their pride as well as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> +nobles; and these two could not bear that any of their blood should +go down in the burgh after their decease.</p> + +<p>So by prudence and self-denial they managed to clothe all the +little bodies, and feed all the great mouths, and yet put by a +small hoard to meet the future; and, as it grew, and grew, they +felt a pleasure the miser hoarding for himself knows not.</p> + +<p>One day the eldest boy but one, aged nineteen, came to his mother, +and with that outward composure which has so misled some persons +as to the real nature of this people begged her to intercede with +his father to send him to Amsterdam, and place him with a merchant. +"It is the way of life that likes me; merchants are wealthy; +I am good at numbers; prithee, good mother, take my part in this, +and I shall ever be, as I am now, your debtor."</p> + +<p>Catherine threw up her hands with dismay and incredulity. +"What leave Tergou!"</p> + +<p>"What is one street to me more than another? If I can leave +the folk of Tergou, I can surely leave the stones."</p> + +<p>"What! quit your poor father now he is no longer young?"</p> + +<p>"Mother, if I can leave you, I can leave him."</p> + +<p>"What leave your poor brothers and sisters, that love you so +dear?"</p> + +<p>"There are enough in the house without me."</p> + +<p>"What mean you, Richart? Who is more thought of than you? +Stay, have I spoken sharp to you? Have I been unkind to you?"</p> + +<p>"Never that I know of; and if you had, you should never hear of it +from me. Mother," said Richart gravely, but the tear was in his +eye, "it all lies in a word. And nothing can change my mind. +There will be one mouth less for you to feed."</p> + +<p>"There now, see what my tongue has done," said Catherine, and +the next moment she began to cry. For she saw her first young +bird on the edge of the nest trying his wings, to fly into the world. +Richart had a calm, strong will, and she knew he never wasted +a word.</p> + +<p>It ended as nature has willed all such discourse shall end: young +Richart went to Amsterdam with a face so long and sad as it had +never been seen before, and a heart like granite.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 409px;"> +<img src="images/illus017.jpg" width="409" height="600" alt="THEY HAD TAUGHT HIM PENMANSHIP" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THEY HAD TAUGHT HIM PENMANSHIP</span> +</div> +<p>That afternoon at supper there was one mouth less. Catherine +looked at Richart's chair and wept bitterly. On this Elias shouted +roughly and angrily to the children "sit wider! Can't ye: sit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> +wider!" and turned his head away over the back of his seat awhile, +and was silent.</p> + +<p>Richart was launched; and never cost them another penny: but +to fit him out and place him in the house of Vander Stegen the merchant +took all the little hoard but one gold crown. They began +again. Two years passed, Richart found a niche in commerce for +his brother Jacob, and Jacob left Tergou directly after dinner, +which was at eleven in the forenoon. At supper that day Elias remembered +what had happened the last time; so it was in a low +whisper he said, "sit wider, dears!" Now until that moment, Catherine +<i>would</i> not see the gap at table, for her daughter Catherine had +besought her not to grieve to-night, and she had said, "No, sweetheart, +I promise I will not, since it vexes my children." But when +Elias whispered "Sit wider!" says she, "Ay! the table will soon +be too big for the children: and you thought it would be too +small:" and having delivered this with forced calmness, she put up +her apron the next moment, and wept sore.</p> + +<p>"'Tis the best that leave us," sobbed she, "that is the cruel part."</p> + +<p>"Nay! nay!" said Elias, "our children are good children, and all +are dear to us alike. Heed her not! What God takes from us still +seems better than what he spares to us: that is to say, men are +by nature unthankful—and women silly."</p> + +<p>"And I say Richart and Jacob were the flower of the flock," +sobbed Catherine.</p> + +<p>The little coffer was empty again, and to fill it they gathered like +ants. In those days speculation was pretty much confined to the +card-and-dice business. Elias knew no way to wealth but the slow +and sure one. "A penny saved is a penny gained," was his humble +creed. All that was not required for the business, and the necessaries +of life, went into the little coffer with steel bands and florid +key. They denied themselves in turn the humblest luxuries, and +then, catching one another's looks, smiled; perhaps with a greater +joy than self-indulgence has to bestow. And so in three years more +they had gleaned enough to set up their fourth son as a master +tailor, and their eldest daughter as a robe-maker, in Tergou. Here +were two more provided for: their own trade would enable them to +throw work into the hands of this pair. But the coffer was drained +to the dregs, and this time the shop too bled a little in goods if not +in coin.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span></p> + +<p>Alas! there remained on hand two that were unable to get their +bread, and two that were unwilling. The unable ones were 1, Giles, +a dwarf, of the wrong sort, half stupidity, half malice, all head and +claws and voice, run from by dogs and unprejudiced females, and +sided with through thick and thin by his mother; 2, Little Catherine, +a poor little girl that could only move on crutches. She lived in +pain, but smiled through it, with her marble face and violet eyes +and long silky lashes: and fretful or repining word never came +from her lips. The unwilling ones were Sybrandt, the youngest, +a ne'er-do-weel, too much in love with play to work, and Cornelis, +the eldest, who had made calculations, and stuck to the hearth, +waiting for dead men's shoes. Almost worn out by their repeated +efforts, and above all dispirited by the moral and physical infirmities +of those that now remained on hand, the anxious couple would +often say, "What will become of all these when we shall be no longer +here to take care of them?" But when they had said this a good +many times, suddenly the domestic horizon cleared, and then they +used still to say it, because a habit is a habit, but they uttered it +half mechanically now, and added brightly and cheerfully, "but +thanks to St. Bavon and all the saints, there's Gerard."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Young Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and +distinct; object of no fears and no great hopes. No fears; for he +was going into the Church; and the Church could always maintain +her children by hook or by crook in those days: no great hopes, because +his family had no interest with the great to get him a benefice, and +the young man's own habits were frivolous, and indeed, such as +our cloth merchant would not have put up with in any one but a +clerk that was to be. His trivialities were reading and penmanship, +and he was so wrapt up in them that often he could hardly +be got away to his meals. The day was never long enough for him: +and he carried ever a tinder-box and brimstone matches, and begged +ends of candles of the neighbors, which he lighted at unreasonable +hours—ay, even at eight of the clock at night in winter, when +the very burgomaster was abed. Endured at home, his practices +were encouraged by the monks of a neighboring convent. They +had taught him penmanship, and continued to teach him, until one +day they discovered, in the middle of a lesson, that he was teaching +them. They pointed this out to him in a merry way: he hung his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span> +head and blushed: he had suspected as much himself, but mistrusted +his judgment in so delicate a matter. "But, my son," said the elderly +monk, "how is it that you, to whom God has given an eye so true, +a hand so subtle yet firm, and a heart to love these beautiful crafts, +how is it you do not colour as well as write? a scroll looks but barren +unless a border of fruit, and leaves, and rich arabesques, surround +the good words, and charm the sense as those do the soul and understanding; +to say nothing of the pictures of holy men and women +departed, with which the several chapters should be adorned, and +not alone the eye soothed with the brave and sweetly blended colours, +but the heart lifted by effigies of the saints in glory. Answer me, +my son."</p> + +<p>At this Gerard was confused, and muttered that he had made several +trials at illuminating, but had not succeeded well; and thus +the matter rested.</p> + +<p>Soon after this a fellow-enthusiast came on the scene in the unwonted +form of an old lady. Margaret, sister and survivor of +the brothers Van Eyck, left Flanders, and came to end her days in +her native country. She bought a small house near Tergou. In +course of time she heard of Gerard, and saw some of his handiwork: +it pleased her so well that she sent her female servant, +Reicht Heynes, to ask him to come to her. This led to an acquaintance: +it could hardly be otherwise, for little Tergou had never +held so many as two zealots of this sort before. At first the old +lady damped Gerard's courage terribly. At each visit she fished +out of holes and corners drawings and paintings, some of them by +her own hand, that seemed to him unapproachable: but if the artist +overpowered him, the woman kept his heart up. She and Reicht +soon turned him inside out like a glove: among other things, they +drew from him what the good monks had failed to hit upon, the +reason why he did not illuminate, viz., that he could not afford the +gold, the blue, and the red, but only the cheap earths; and that he +was afraid to ask his mother to buy the choice colours, and was sure +he should ask her in vain. Then Margaret Van Eyck gave him a +little brush-gold, and some vermilion, and ultramarine, and a piece +of good vellum to lay them on. He almost adored her. As he +left the house Reicht ran after him with a candle and two quarters: +he quite kissed her. But better even than the gold and lapis +lazuli to the illuminator was the sympathy to the isolated enthusiast.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> +That sympathy was always ready, and, as he returned it, an +affection sprung up between the old painter and the young caligrapher +that was doubly characteristic of the time. For this was a century +in which the fine arts and the higher mechanical arts were not separated +by any distinct boundary, nor were those who practised +them: and it was an age in which artists sought out and loved one +another. Should this last statement stagger a painter or writer of +our day, let me remind him that even Christians loved one another +at first starting.</p> + +<p>Backed by an acquaintance so venerable, and strengthened by +female sympathy, Gerard advanced in learning and skill. His +spirits, too, rose visibly: he still looked behind him when dragged +to dinner in the middle of an initial G; but once seated showed +great social qualities: likewise a gay humour, that had hitherto but +peeped in him, shone out, and often he set the table in a roar, and +kept it there, sometimes with his own wit, sometimes with jests which +were glossy new to his family, being drawn from antiquity.</p> + +<p>As a return for all he owed his friends the monks, he made them +exquisite copies from two of their choicest MSS., viz., the life +of their founder, and their Comedies of Terence, the monastery +finding the vellum.</p> + +<p>The high and puissant Prince, Philip "the Good," Duke of +Burgundy, Luxemburg, and Brabant, Earl of Holland and Zealand, +Lord of Friesland, Count of Flanders, Artois, and Hainault, Lord of +Salins and Macklyn—was versatile.</p> + +<p>He could fight as well as any king going; and he could lie as +well as any, except the King of France. He was a mighty hunter, +and could read and write. His tastes were wide and ardent. He +loved jewels like a woman, and gorgeous apparel. He dearly loved +maids of honour, and indeed paintings generally; in proof of which +he ennobled Jan Van Eyck. He had also a rage for giants, dwarfs, +and Turks. These last stood ever planted about him, turbaned, and +blazing with jewels. His agents inveigled them from Istamboul +with fair promises: but, the moment he had got them, he baptized +them by brute force in a large tub; and, this done, let them squat +with their faces toward Mecca, and invoke Mahound as much as +they pleased, laughing in his sleeve at their simplicity in fancying +they were still infidels. He had lions in cages, and fleet leopards +trained by Orientals to run down hares and deer. In short, he relished<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> +all rarities except the humdrum virtues. For anything singularly +pretty, or diabolically ugly, this was your customer. The +best of him was, he was open-handed to the poor; and the next +best was, he fostered the arts in earnest: whereof he now gave a +signal proof. He offered prizes for the best specimens of "orfèvrerie" +in two kinds, religious and secular; item for the best +paintings in white of egg, oils and tempera; these to be on panel, +silk, or metal, as the artists chose: item for the best transparent +painting on glass: item for the best illuminating and border painting +on vellum: item for the fairest writing on vellum. The burgomasters +of the several towns were commanded to aid all the poorer +competitors by receiving their specimens and sending them with +due care to Rotterdam at the expense of their several burghs. When +this was cried by the bellman through the streets of Tergou, a +thousand mouths opened, and one heart beat—Gerard's. He told +his family timidly he should try for two of those prizes. They +stared in silence, for their breath was gone at his audacity: but one +horrid laugh exploded on the floor like a petard. Gerard looked +down, and there was the dwarf, slit and fanged from ear to ear +at his expense, and laughing like a lion. Nature relenting at having +made Giles so small, had given him as a set-off the biggest voice on +record. His very whisper was a bassoon. He was like those stunted +wide-mouthed pieces of ordnance we see on fortifications; more like a +flower-pot than a cannon; but ods tympana how they bellow!</p> + +<p>Gerard turned red with anger, the more so as the others began to +titter. White Catherine saw, and a pink tinge came on her cheek. +She said softly, "Why do you laugh? Is it because he is our +brother you think he cannot be capable? Yes, Gerard, try with +the rest. Many say you are skilful; and mother and I will pray +the Virgin to guide your hand."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, little Kate. You shall pray to our Lady, and our +mother shall buy me vellum and the colours to illuminate with."</p> + +<p>"What will they cost, my lad?"</p> + +<p>"Two gold crowns" (about three shillings and fourpence English +money).</p> + +<p>"What?" screamed the housewife; "when the bushel of rye costs +but a groat! What! me spend a month's meal and meat and fire on +such vanity as that: the lightning from Heaven would fall on me and +my children would all be beggars."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mother!" sighed little Catherine imploringly.</p> + +<p>"Oh! it is in vain, Kate," said Gerard, with a sigh. "I shall +have to give it up, or ask the dame Van Eyck. She would give it +me, but I think shame to be for ever taking from her."</p> + +<p>"It is not her affair," said Catherine, very sharply; "what has she +to do coming between me and my son?" And she left the room with +a red face. Little Catherine smiled. Presently the housewife +returned with a gracious affectionate air, and two little gold pieces +in her hand.</p> + +<p>"There, sweetheart," said she, "you won't have to trouble dame or +demoiselle for two paltry crowns."</p> + +<p>But on this Gerard fell a-thinking how he could spare her purse.</p> + +<p>"One will do, mother. I will ask the good monks to let me send +my copy of their 'Terence:' it is on snowy vellum, and I can write +no better: so then I shall only need six sheets of vellum for my +borders and miniatures, and gold for my ground, and prime colours—one +crown will do."</p> + +<p>"Never tyne the ship for want of a bit of tar, Gerard," said this +changeable mother. But she added, "Well, there, I will put the +crown in my pocket. That won't be like putting it back in the box. +Going to the box to take out instead of putting in, it is like going +to my heart with a knife for so many drops of blood. You will be +sure to want it, Gerard. The house is never built for less than the +builder counted on."</p> + +<p>Sure enough, when the time came, Gerard longed to go to Rotterdam +and see the duke, and above all to see the work of his competitors, +and so get a lesson from defeat. And the crown came out of +the housewife's pocket with a very good grace. Gerard would soon +be a priest. It seemed hard if he might not enjoy the world a little +before separating himself from it for life.</p> + +<p>The night before he went, Margaret Van Eyck asked him to take +a letter for her, and when he came to look at it, to his surprise he +found it was addressed to the Princess Marie, at the Stadthouse, in +Rotterdam.</p> + +<p>The day before the prizes were to be distributed, Gerard started +for Rotterdam in his holiday suit, to wit, a doublet of silver-grey +cloth with sleeves, and a jerkin of the same over it, but without +sleeves. From his waist to his heels he was clad in a pair of tight-fitting +buckskin hose fastened by laces (called points) to his doublet.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +His shoes were pointed, in moderation, and secured by a strap that +passed under the hollow of his foot. On his head and the back of +his neck he wore his flowing hair, and pinned to his back between his +shoulders was his hat: it was further secured by a purple silk ribbon +little Kate had passed round him from the sides of the hat, and +knotted neatly on his breast; below his hat, attached to the upper +rim of his broad waist-belt, was his leathern wallet. When he got +within a league of Rotterdam he was pretty tired, but he soon fell in +with a pair that was more so. He found an old man sitting by the +roadside quite worn out, and a comely young woman holding his +hand, with a face brimful of concern. The country people trudged +by and noticed nothing amiss: but Gerard, as he passed drew conclusions. +Even dress tells a tale to those who study it so closely as +he did, being an illuminator. The old man wore a gown, and a fur +tippet, and a velvet cap, sure signs of dignity: but the triangular +purse at his girdle was lean, the gown rusty, the fur worn, sure signs +of poverty. The young woman was dressed in plain russet cloth: +yet snow-white lawn covered that part of her neck the gown left visible, +and ended half way up her white throat in a little band of gold +embroidery: and her head-dress was new to Gerard; instead of hiding +her hair in a pile of linen or lawn, she wore an open net-work of +silver cord with silver spangles at the interstices: in this her glossy +auburn hair was rolled in front into two solid waves, and supported +behind in a luxurious and shapely mass. His quick eye took in all +this, and the old man's pallor, and the tears in the young woman's +eyes. So when he had passed them a few yards, he reflected, and +turned back, and came towards them bashfully.</p> + +<p>"Father, I fear you are tired."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, my son, I am," replied the old man; "and faint for +lack of food."</p> + +<p>Gerard's address did not appear so agreeable to the girl as to +the old man. She seemed ashamed, and with much reserve in her +manner said, that it was her fault; she had underrated the distance, +and imprudently allowed her father to start too late in the day.</p> + +<p>"No! no!" said the old man; "it is not the distance, it is the want +of nourishment."</p> + +<p>The girl put her arms round his neck, with tender concern, but took +that opportunity of whispering, "Father, a stranger—a young man!"</p> + +<p>But it was too late. Gerard, with simplicity, and quite as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +matter of course, fell to gathering sticks with great expedition. This +done, he took down his wallet, out with the manchet of bread and the +iron flask his careful mother had put up, and his everlasting tinder-box; +lighted a match, then a candle end, then the sticks; and put +his iron flask on it. Then down he went on his stomach and took a +good blow: then looking up, he saw the girl's face had thawed, and +she was looking down at him and his energy with a demure smile. +He laughed back to her: "Mind the pot," said he, "and don't let it +spill, for Heaven's sake: there's a cleft stick to hold it safe with;" +and with this he set off running towards a corn-field at some distance.</p> + +<p>Whilst he was gone, there came by, on a mule with rich purple +housings, an old man redolent of wealth. The purse at his girdle +was plethoric, the fur on his tippet was ermine, broad and new.</p> + +<p>It was Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, the burgomaster of Tergou. He +was old, and his face furrowed. He was a notorious miser, and +looked one generally. But the idea of supping with the duke raised +him just now into manifest complacency. Yet at the sight of the +faded old man and his bright daughter sitting by a fire of sticks, +the smile died out of his face, and he wore a strange look of pain +and uneasiness. He reined in his mule. "Why, Peter,—Margaret—" +said he almost fiercely, "what mummery is this!" Peter +was going to answer, but Margaret interposed hastily, and +said: "My father was exhausted, so I am warming something to +give him strength before we go on." "What, reduced to feed by +the roadside like the Bohemians," said Ghysbrecht, and his hand +went into his purse: but it did not seem at home there; it fumbled uncertainly, +afraid too large a coin might stick to a finger and come out.</p> + +<p>At this moment who should come bounding up but Gerard. He +had two straws in his hand, and he threw himself down by the fire, +and relieved Margaret of the cooking part: then suddenly recognizing +the burgomaster, he coloured all over. Ghysbrecht Van Swieten +started and glared at him, and took his hand out of his purse. +"Oh," said he bitterly, "I am not wanted:" and went slowly on, +casting a long look of suspicion on Margaret, and hostility on Gerard, +that was not very intelligible. However, there was something about +it that Margaret could read enough to blush at, and almost toss +her head. Gerard only stared with surprise. "By St. Bavon, I think +the old miser grudges us three our quart of soup," said he. When +the young man put that interpretation on Ghysbrecht's strange and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +meaning look, Margaret was greatly relieved, and smiled gaily on +the speaker.</p> + +<p>Meantime Ghysbrecht plodded on, more wretched in his wealth +than these in their poverty. And the curious thing is that the mule, +the purple housings, and one half the coin in that plethoric purse, +belonged not to Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, but to that faded old man +and that comely girl, who sat by the road-side fire to be fed by a +stranger. They did not know this, but Ghysbrecht knew it, and +carried in his heart a scorpion of his own begetting. That scorpion +is remorse; the remorse, that, not being penitence, is incurable, +and ready for fresh misdeeds upon a fresh temptation.</p> + +<p>Twenty years ago, when Ghysbrecht was a hard and honest man, +the touchstone opportunity came to him, and he did an act of heartless +roguery. It seemed a safe one. It had hitherto proved a safe +one, though he had never felt safe. To-day he has seen youth, enterprise, +and above all, knowledge, seated by fair Margaret and her +father on terms that look familiar and loving.</p> + +<p>And the fiends are at his ear again.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"THE soup is hot," said Gerard.</div> + +<p>"But how are we to get it to our mouths?" inquired the +senior, despondingly.</p> + +<p>"Father, the young man has brought us straws." And Margaret +smiled slily.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay!" said the old man: "but my poor bones are stiff, and indeed +the fire is too hot for a body to kneel over with these short +straws. St. John the Baptist, but the young man is adroit!"</p> + +<p>For, while he stated his difficulty, Gerard removed it. He untied +in a moment the knot on his breast, took his hat off, put a stone in +each corner of it, then wrapping his hand in the tail of his jerkin, +whipped the flask off the fire, wedged it in between the stones, and put +the hat under the old man's nose with a merry smile. The other +tremulously inserted the pipe of rye-straw and sucked. Lo and behold +his wan, drawn face was seen to light up more and more, till it +quite glowed; and, as soon as he had drawn a long breath:</p> + +<p>"Hippocrates and Galen!" he cried, "'tis a soupe au vin—the restorative<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +of restoratives. Blessed be the nation that invented it, and +the woman that made it, and the young man who brings it to fainting +folk. Have a suck, my girl, while I relate to our young host the history +and virtues of this his sovereign compound. This corroborative, +young sir, was unknown to the ancients: we find it neither in their +treatises of medicine, nor in those popular narratives, which reveal +many of their remedies, both in chirurgery and medicine proper. +Hector, in the Ilias, if my memory does not play me false,—"</p> + +<p><i>Margaret.</i> "Alas! he's off."</p> + +<p>"—was invited by one of the ladies of the poem to drink a draught +of wine; but he declined, on the plea that he was just going into battle, +and must not take aught to weaken his powers. Now, if the +'soupe au vin' had been known in Troy, it is clear that in declining +'vinum merum' upon that score, he would have added in the next hexameter. +'But a "soupe au vin," madam, I will degust, and gratefully.' +Not only would this have been but common civility—a virtue +no perfect commander is wanting in—but not to have done it +would have proved him a shallow and improvident person, unfit to be +trusted with the conduct of a war; for men going into a battle need +sustenance and all the possible support, as is proved by this, that +foolish generals, bringing hungry soldiers to blows with full ones, +have been defeated, in all ages, by inferior numbers. The Romans +lost a great battle in the north of Italy to Hannibal the Carthaginian, +by this neglect alone. Now, this divine elixir gives in one +moment force to the limbs and ardour to the spirits; and taken into +Hector's body at the nick of time, would, by the aid of Phœbus, +Venus, and the blessed saints, have most likely procured the Greeks +a defeat. For, note how faint and weary and heart-sick I was a +minute ago; well, I suck this celestial cordial, and now behold me +brave as Achilles and strong as an eagle."</p> + +<p>"Oh father, now? an eagle; alack!"</p> + +<p>"Girl, I defy thee and all the world. Ready, I say, like a foaming +charger, to devour the space between this and Rotterdam, and +strong to combat the ills of life, even poverty and old age, which +last philosophers have called the 'summum malum.' Negatur; +unless the man's life has been ill-spent—which, by the by, it +generally has. Now for the moderns."</p> + +<p>"Father! dear father!"</p> + +<p>"Fear me not, girl, I will be brief, unreasonably and unseasonably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +brief. The 'soupe au vin' occurs not in modern science; but this is +only one proof more, if proof were needed, that for the last few +hundred years physicians have been idiots, with their chicken broth +and their decoction of gold, whereby they attribute the highest +qualities to that meat which has the least juice of any meat, and to +that metal which has less chemical qualities than all the metals; +mountebanks! dunces! homicides! Since, then, from these no light +is to be gathered, go we to the chroniclers; and first we find that +Duguesclin, a French knight, being about to join battle with the +English—masters, at that time, of half France, and sturdy strikers by +sea and land—drank, not one, but three, 'soupes au vin,' in honour +of the Blessed Trinity. This done, he charged the islanders; and +as might have been foretold, killed a multitude, and drove the rest +into the sea. But he was only the first of a long list of holy and +hard-hitting ones who have, by this divine restorative, been sustentated, +fortified, corroborated, and consoled."</p> + +<p>"Dear father, prithee add thyself to that venerable company ere +the soup cools." And Margaret held the hat imploringly in both +hands till he inserted the straw once more.</p> + +<p>This spared them the "modern instances," and gave Gerard an +opportunity of telling Margaret how proud his mother would be her +soup had profited a man of learning.</p> + +<p>"Ay! but," said Margaret, "it would like her ill to see her son +give all and take none himself. Why brought you but two +straws?"</p> + +<p>"Fair mistress, I hoped you would let me put my lips to your +straw, there being but two."</p> + +<p>Margaret smiled, and blushed. "Never beg that you may command," +said she. "The straw is not mine, 'tis yours: you cut it in +yonder field."</p> + +<p>"I cut it, and that made it mine; but, after that, your lip +touched it, and that made it yours."</p> + +<p>"Did it? Then I will lend it you. There—now it is yours +again: <i>your</i> lip has touched it."</p> + +<p>"No, it belongs to us both now. Let us divide it."</p> + +<p>"By all means; you have a knife."</p> + +<p>"No, I will not cut it—that would be unlucky. I'll bite it. +There. I shall keep my half: you will burn yours, once you get +home, I doubt."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You know me not. I waste nothing. It is odds but I make a +hair-pin of it, or something."</p> + +<p>This answer dashed the novice Gerard instead of provoking him +to fresh efforts, and he was silent. And now, the bread and soup +being disposed of, the old scholar prepared to continue his journey. +Then came a little difficulty: Gerard the adroit could not tie his +ribbon again as Catherine had tied it. Margaret, after slily eyeing +his efforts for some time, offered to help him; for at her age girls +love to be coy and tender, saucy and gentle, by turns, and she saw she +had put him out of countenance but now. Then a fair head, with +its stately crown of auburn hair, glossy and glowing through +silver, bowed sweetly towards him; and, while it ravished his eye, two +white supple hands played delicately upon the stubborn ribbon, +and moulded it with soft and airy touches. Then a heavenly thrill +ran through the innocent young man, and vague glimpses of a new +world of feeling and sentiment opened on him. And these new +and exquisite sensations Margaret unwittingly prolonged: it is +not natural to her sex to hurry aught that pertains to the sacred +toilet. Nay, when the taper fingers had at last subjugated the +ends of the knot, her mind was not quite easy, till, by a manœuvre +peculiar to the female hand, she had made her palm convex, and so +applied it with a gentle pressure to the centre of the knot—a sweet +little coaxing hand-kiss, as much as to say, "Now be a good knot, +and stay so." The palm-kiss was bestowed on the ribbon, but the +wearer's heart leaped to meet it.</p> + +<p>"There, that is how it was," said Margaret, and drew back to +take one last keen survey of her work; then, looking up for simple +approval of her skill, received full in her eyes a longing gaze of +such ardent adoration, as made her lower them quickly and colour +all over. An indescribable tremor seized her, and she retreated +with downcast lashes and tell-tale cheeks, and took her father's arm +on the opposite side. Gerard, blushing at having scared her away +with his eyes, took the other arm; and so the two young things went +downcast and conscious, and propped the eagle along in silence.</p> + +<p>They entered Rotterdam by the Schiedamze Poort; and, as Gerard +was unacquainted with the town, Peter directed him the way to the +Hoog Straet, in which the Stadthouse was. He himself was going +with Margaret to his cousin, in the Ooster-Waagen Straet, so, almost +on entering the gate, their roads lay apart. They bade each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +other a friendly adieu, and Gerard dived into the great town. A +profound sense of solitude fell upon him, yet the streets were crowded. +Then he lamented too late that, out of delicacy, he had not asked +his late companions who they were and where they lived.</p> + +<p>"Beshrew my shamefacedness!" said he. "But their words and +their breeding were above their means, and something did whisper +me they would not be known. I shall never see her more. Oh! +weary world, I hate you and your ways. To think I must meet +beauty and goodness and learning—three pearls of price,—and never +see them more!"</p> + +<p>Falling into this sad reverie, and letting his body go where it +would, he lost his way; but presently meeting a crowd of persons +all moving in one direction, he mingled with them, for he argued +they must be making for the Stadthouse. Soon the noisy troop that +contained the moody Gerard emerged, not upon the Stadthouse, but +upon a large meadow by the side of the Maas; and then the attraction +was revealed. Games of all sorts were going on: wrestling +the game of palm, the quintain, legerdemain, archery, tumbling, +in which art, I blush to say, women as well as men performed, to the +great delectation of the company. There was also a trained bear, +who stood on his head, and marched upright, and bowed with prodigious +gravity to his master; and a hare that beat a drum, and a +cock that strutted on little stilts disdainfully. These things made +Gerard laugh now and then; but the gay scene could not really +enliven it, for his heart was not in tune with it. So, hearing a +young man say to his fellow that the duke had been in the meadow, +but was gone to the Stadthouse to entertain the burgomasters and +aldermen and the competitors for the prizes, and their friends, he +suddenly remembered he was hungry, and should like to sup with +a prince. He left the river-side, and this time he found the Hoog +Straet, and it speedily led him to the Stadthouse. But when he got +there he was refused, first at one door, then at another, till he came +to the great gate of the court-yard. It was kept by soldiers, and +superintended by a pompous major-domo, glittering in an embroidered +collar and a gold chain of office, and holding a white staff with +a gold knob. There was a crowd of persons at the gate endeavoring +to soften this official rock. They came up in turn like ripples, and +retired as such in turn. It cost Gerard a struggle to get near him, +and when he was within four heads of the gate, he saw something that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +made his heart beat: there was Peter, with Margaret on his arm, +soliciting humbly for entrance.</p> + +<p>"My cousin the alderman is not at home. They say he is here."</p> + +<p>"What is that to me, old man?"</p> + +<p>"If you will not let us pass in to him, at least take this leaf from +my tablet to my cousin. See I have written his name: he will come +out to us."</p> + +<p>"For what do you take me? I carry no messages. I keep the +gate."</p> + +<p>He then bawled, in a stentorian voice, inexorably:</p> + +<p>"No strangers enter here but the competitors and their companies."</p> + +<p>"Come, old man," cried a voice in the crowd, "you have gotten +your answer; make way."</p> + +<p>Margaret turned half round imploringly:</p> + +<p>"Good people, we are come from far, and my father is old; and +my cousin has a new servant that knows us not, and would not let us +sit in our cousin's house."</p> + +<p>At this the crowd laughed hoarsely. Margaret shrank as if they +had struck her. At that moment a hand grasped hers—a magic +grasp: it felt like heart meeting heart, or magnet steel. She +turned quickly around at it, and it was Gerard. Such a little cry +of joy and appeal came from her bosom, and she began to whimper +prettily.</p> + +<p>They had hustled her and frightened her for one thing; and her +cousin's thoughtlessness, in not even telling his servant they were +coming, was cruel; and the servant's caution, however wise and +faithful to her master, was bitterly mortifying to her father and +her. And to her so mortified, and anxious and jostled, came suddenly +this kind hand and face. "Hinc illæ lacrimæ."</p> + +<p>"All is well now," remarked a coarse humourist; "she hath gotten +her sweetheart."</p> + +<p>"Haw! haw! haw!" went the crowd.</p> + +<p>She dropped Gerard's hand directly, and turned round, with eyes +flashing through her tears:</p> + +<p>"I have no sweetheart, you rude men. But I am friendless in +your boorish town, and this is a friend; and one who knows, what you +know not, how to treat the aged and the weak."</p> + +<p>The crowd was dead silent. They had only been thoughtless,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> +and now felt the rebuke, though severe, was just. The silence +enabled Gerard to treat with the porter.</p> + +<p>"I am a competitor, sir."</p> + +<p>"What is your name?" and the man eyed him suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Gerard, the son of Elias."</p> + +<p>The janitor inspected the slip of parchment he held in his hand:</p> + +<p>"Gerard Eliassoen can enter."</p> + +<p>"With my company; these two?"</p> + +<p>"Nay; those are not your company: they came before you."</p> + +<p>"What matter? they are my friends, and without them I go not +in."</p> + +<p>"Stay without, then."</p> + +<p>"That will I not."</p> + +<p>"That we will see."</p> + +<p>"We will, and speedily." And with this, Gerard raised a voice +of astounding volume and power, and shouted, so that the whole +street rang:</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Ho! Philip Earl of Holland!</span>"</p> + +<p>"Are you mad?" cried the porter.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Here is one of your varlets defies you.</span>"</p> + +<p>"Hush, Hush!"</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">And will not let your guests pass in.</span>"</p> + +<p>"Hush! murder! The duke's there. I'm dead," cried the janitor, +quaking.</p> + +<p>Then suddenly trying to overpower Gerard's thunder, he shouted, +with all his lungs:</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Open the gate, ye knaves! Way there for Gerard Eliassoen +and his company!</span> (the friends go with him!)"</p> + +<p>The gate swung open as by magic. Eight soldiers lowered their +pikes half way, and made an arch, under which the victorious +three marched in triumphant. The moment they had passed, the +pikes clashed together horizontally to bar the gateway, and all but +pinned an abdominal citizen that sought to wedge in along with them.</p> + +<p>Once passed the guarded portal, a few steps brought the trio upon +a scene of Oriental luxury. The court-yard was laid out in tables +loaded with rich meats, and piled with gorgeous plate. Guests in +rich and various costumes sat beneath a leafy canopy of fresh cut +branches fastened tastefully to golden, silver, and blue silken cords +that traversed the area; and fruits of many hues, including some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +artificial ones of gold, silver, and wax, hung pendent, or peeped like +fair eyes among the green leaves of plane-trees and lime-trees. The +duke's minstrels swept their lutes at intervals, and a fountain played +red Burgundy in six jets that met and battled in the air. The evening +sun darted its fires through those bright and purple wine spouts, +making them jets and cascades of molten rubies, then passing on, +tinged with the blood of the grape, shed crimson glories here and +there on fair faces, snowy beards, velvet, satin, jewelled hilts, glowing +gold, gleaming silver, and sparkling glass. Gerard and his friends +stood dazzled, spell bound. Presently a whisper buzzed around them, +"Salute the duke! Salute the duke!" They looked up, and there on +high, under the dais, was their sovereign, bidding them welcome +with a kindly wave of the hand. The men bowed low, and Margaret +curtsied with a deep and graceful obeisance. The duke's hand being +up, he gave it another turn, and pointed the newcomers out to a +knot of valets. Instantly seven of his people, with an obedient start, +went headlong at our friends, seated them at a table, and put fifteen +many coloured soups before them, in little silver bowls, and as many +wines in crystal vases.</p> + +<p>"Nay, father, let us not eat until we have thanked our good friend," +said Margaret, now first recovering from all this bustle.</p> + +<p>"Girl, he is our guardian angel."</p> + +<p>Gerard put his face into his hands.</p> + +<p>"Tell me when you have done," said he, "and I will reappear and +have my supper, for I am hungry. I know which of us three is +the happiest at meeting again."</p> + +<p>"Me?" inquired Margaret.</p> + +<p>"No: guess again."</p> + +<p>"Father?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then I have no guess which it can be;" and she gave a little crow +of happiness and gaiety. The soup was tasted, and vanished in a +twirl of fourteen hands, and fish came on the table in a dozen forms, +with patties of lobster and almonds mixed, and of almonds and cream, +and an immense variety of "brouets," known to us as "rissoles." +The next trifle was a wild boar, which smelt divine. Why, then, did +Margaret start away from it with two shrieks of dismay, and pinch +so good a friend as Gerard? Because the duke's "cuisinier" had +been too clever; had made this excellent dish too captivating to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +sight as well as taste. He had restored to the animal, by elaborate +mimicry with burnt sugar and other edible colours, the hair and +bristles he had robbed him of by fire and water. To make him still +more enticing, the huge tusks were carefully preserved in the brute's +jaw, and gave his mouth the winning smile that comes of tusk in +man or beast: and two eyes of coloured sugar glowed in his head. +St. Argus! what eyes! so bright, so blood-shot, so threatening—they +followed a man and every movement of his knife and spoon. But, +indeed, I need the pencil of Granville or Tenniel to make you see +the two gilt valets on the opposite side of the table putting the monster +down before our friends, with a smiling, self-satisfied, benevolent +obsequiousness—for this ghastly monster was the flower of +all comestibles—old Peter clasping both hands in pious admiration +of it; Margaret wheeling round with horror-stricken eyes +and her hand on Gerard's shoulder, squeaking and pinching; +his face of unwise delight at being pinched, the grizzly brute +glaring sulkily on all, and the guests grinning from ear to +ear.</p> + +<p>"What's to do?" shouted the duke, hearing the signals of female +distress. Seven of his people with a zealous start went headlong +and told him. He laughed and said, "Give her of the beef-stuffing, +then, and bring me Sir Boar." Benevolent monarch! The +beef-stuffing was his own private dish. On these grand occasions +an ox was roasted whole, and reserved for the poor. But this +wise as well as charitable prince had discovered, that whatever venison, +hares, lamb, poultry, &c., you skewered into that beef cavern, +got cooked to perfection, retaining their own juices and receiving +those of the reeking ox. These he called his beef-stuffing, and took +delight therein, as did now our trio; for, at his word, seven of his +people went headlong, and drove silver tridents into the steaming +cave at random, and speared a kid, a cygnet, and a flock of wild +fowl. These presently smoked before Gerard and company; and +Peter's face sad and slightly morose at the loss of the savage hog, +expanded and shone. After this, twenty different tarts of fruits +and herbs, and last of all, confectionery on a Titanic scale; cathedrals +of sugar, all gilt and painted in the interstices of the bas-reliefs; +castles with their moats, and ditches, imitated to the life; +elephants, camels, toads; knights on horseback, jousting; kings and +princesses looking on; trumpeters blowing; and all these personages<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +delicious eating, and their veins filled with sweet-scented juices: +works of art made to be destroyed. The guests breached a bastion, +crunched a crusader and his horse and lance, or cracked a bishop, +cope, chasuble, crosier and all, as remorselessly as we do a caraway +comfit; sipping, meanwhile, hippocras and other spiced +drinks, and Greek and Corsican wines, while every now and +then little Turkish boys, turbaned, spangled, jewelled, and +gilt, came offering on bended knee golden troughs of rose-water +and orange-water to keep the guests' hands cool and perfumed.</p> + +<p>But long before our party arrived at this final stage, appetite +had succumbed, and Gerard had suddenly remembered he was +the bearer of a letter to the Princess Marie, and, in an undertone, +had asked one of the servants if he would undertake to deliver it. +The man took it with a deep obeisance: "He could not deliver +it himself, but would instantly give it one of the princess's suite, +several of whom were about."</p> + +<p>It may be remembered that Peter and Margaret came here not +to dine, but to find their cousin. Well, the old gentleman ate +heartily, and being much fatigued dropped asleep, and forgot all +about his cousin. Margaret did not remind him, we shall hear +why.</p> + +<p>Meantime, that cousin was seated within a few feet of them, at +their backs, and discovered them when Margaret turned round and +screamed at the boar. But he forbore to speak to them, for municipal +reasons. Margaret was very plainly dressed and Peter inclined to +threadbare. So the alderman said to himself,</p> + +<p>"'Twill be time to make up to them when the sun sets and the +company disperses: then I will take my poor relations to my house, +and none will be the wiser."</p> + +<p>Half the courses were lost on Gerard and Margaret. They were +no great eaters, and just now were feeding on sweet thoughts that +have ever been unfavourable to appetite. But there is a delicate +kind of sensuality, to whose influence these two were perhaps more +sensitive than any other pair in that assembly; the delights of +colour, music, and perfume, all of which blended so fascinatingly +here.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 410px;"> +<img src="images/illus037.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="SHE TURNED HER HEAD AWAY, AND HER LONG EYELASHES DROOPED SWEETLY" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SHE TURNED HER HEAD AWAY, AND HER LONG EYELASHES DROOPED SWEETLY</span> +</div> + +<p>Margaret leaned back and half closed her eyes, and murmured to +Gerard: "What a lovely scene! the warm sun, the green shade,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +the rich dresses, the bright music of the lutes and the cool music of +the fountain, and all faces so happy and gay! and then, it is to +you we owe it."</p> + +<p>Gerard was silent all but his eyes; observing which—</p> + +<p>"Now, speak not to me," said Margaret languidly; "let me +listen to the fountain: what are you a competitor for?"</p> + +<p>He told her.</p> + +<p>"Very well! You will gain one prize, at least."</p> + +<p>"Which? Which? Have you seen any of my work?"</p> + +<p>"I? no. But you will gain a prize."</p> + +<p>"I hope so: but what makes you think so?"</p> + +<p>"Because you were so good to my father."</p> + +<p>Gerard smiled at the feminine logic, and hung his head at the +sweet praise, and was silent.</p> + +<p>"Speak not," murmured Margaret. "They say this is a world +of sin and misery. Can that be? What is your opinion?"</p> + +<p>"No! that is all a silly old song," explained Gerard. "'Tis a +byword our elders keep repeating, out of custom: it is not true."</p> + +<p>"How can you know? you are but a child," said Margaret, with +pensive dignity.</p> + +<p>"Why only look round! And then I thought I had lost you for +ever; and you are by my side: and now the minstrels are going +to play again. Sin and misery? Stuff and nonsense!"</p> + + + +<p>The lutes burst out. The court-yard rang again with their delicate +harmony.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"What do you admire most of all these beautiful things, Gerard?"</p> + +<p>"You know my name? How is that?"</p> + +<p>"White magic. I am a witch."</p> + +<p>"Angels are never witches. But I can't think how you—"</p> + +<p>"Foolish boy! was it not cried at the gate loud enough to deave +one?"</p> + +<p>"So it was. Where is my head? What do I admire most? If +you will sit a little more that way, I'll tell you."</p> + +<p>"This way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; so that the light may fall on you. There. I see many +fair things here, fairer than I could have conceived; but the bravest +of all to my eye, is your lovely hair in its silver frame, and the +setting sun kissing it. It reminds me of what the Vulgate praises<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +for beauty, '<i>an apple of gold in a network of silver</i>,' and, O what +a pity I did not know you before I sent in my poor endeavours at +illuminating! I could illuminate so much better now. I could do +everything better. There, now the sun is full on it, it is like an +aureole. So our Lady looked, and none since her until to-day."</p> + +<p>"O fie! it is wicked to talk so. Compare a poor, coarse-favoured +girl like me with the Queen of Heaven? O Gerard! I thought you +were a good young man." And Margaret was shocked apparently.</p> + +<p>Gerard tried to explain. "I am no worse than the rest: but how +can I help having eyes; and a heart—Margaret!"</p> + +<p>"Gerard?"</p> + +<p>"Be not angry now!"</p> + +<p>"Now, is it likely?"</p> + +<p>"I love you."</p> + +<p>"O for shame! you must not say that to me," and Margaret +coloured furiously at this sudden assault.</p> + +<p>"I can't help it. I love you. I love you."</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush! for pity's sake! I must not listen to such words +from a stranger. I am ungrateful to call you a stranger. O how +one may be mistaken! If I had known you were so bold—" And +Margaret's bosom began to heave, and her cheeks were covered with +blushes, and she looked towards her sleeping father, very much like +a timid thing that meditates actual flight.</p> + +<p>Then Gerard was frightened at the alarm he caused. "Forgive +me," said he imploringly. "How could any one help loving you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, I will <i>try</i> and forgive you—you are so good in other +respects; but then you must promise me never to say you—to say +<i>that</i> again."</p> + +<p>"Give me your hand then, or you don't forgive me."</p> + +<p>She hesitated; but eventually put out her hand a very little +way, very slowly, and with seeming reluctance. He took it, and +held it prisoner. When she thought it had been there long enough, +she tried gently to draw it away. He held it tight: it submitted +quite patiently to force. What <i>is</i> the use resisting force? She +turned her head away, and her long eyelashes drooped sweetly. +Gerard lost nothing by his promise. Words were not heeded here: +and silence was more eloquent. Nature was in that day what she +is in ours; but manners were somewhat freer. Then, as now, +virgins drew back alarmed at the first words of love; but of prudery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +and artificial coquetry there was little, and the young soon read +one another's hearts. Everything was on Gerard's side: his good +looks, her belief in his goodness, her gratitude; and opportunity: +for at the duke's banquet this mellow summer eve, all things disposed +the female nature to tenderness: the avenues to the heart lay +open; the senses were so soothed and subdued with lovely colours, +gentle sounds, and delicate odours; the sun gently sinking the +warm air, the green canopy, the cool music of the now violet fountain.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Gerard and Margaret sat hand in hand in silence: and Gerard's +eyes sought hers lovingly; and hers now and then turned on him +timidly and imploringly: and presently two sweet unreasonable +tears rolled down her cheeks, and she smiled deliciously while they +were drying: yet they did not take long.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>And the sun declined; and the air cooled, and the fountain +plashed more gently; and the pair throbbed in unison, and silence, +and this weary world looked heaven to them.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>A GRAVE white-haired seneschal came to their table, and inquired +courteously whether Gerard Eliassoen was of their +company. Upon Gerard's answer, he said:</div> + +<p>"The Princess Marie would confer with you, young sir; I am +to conduct you to her presence."</p> + +<p>Instantly all faces within hearing turned sharp round, and were +bent with curiosity and envy on the man that was to go to a princess.</p> + +<p>Gerard rose to obey.</p> + +<p>"I wager we shall not see you again," said Margaret, calmly, +but colouring a little.</p> + +<p>"That will you," was the reply: then he whispered in her ear: +"This is my good princess; but you are my queen." He added +aloud: "Wait for me, I pray you, I will presently return."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay!" said Peter awaking and speaking at one and the same +moment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gerard gone, the pair whose dress was so homely, yet they were +with the man whom the princess sent for, became "the cynosure +of neighbouring eyes;" observing which, William Johnson came forward, +acted surprise, and claimed his relations:</p> + +<p>"And to think that there was I at your backs, and you saw +me not."</p> + +<p>"Nay, cousin Johnson, I saw you long syne," said Margaret, +coldly.</p> + +<p>"You saw me, and spoke not to me?"</p> + +<p>"Cousin, it was for you to welcome us to Rotterdam, as it is +for us to welcome you at Sevenbergen. Your servant denied us +a seat in your house."</p> + +<p>"The idiot!"</p> + +<p>"And I had a mind to see whether it was 'like maid like master:' +for there is sooth in bywords."</p> + +<p>William Johnson blushed purple. He saw Margaret was keen, +and suspected him. He did the wisest thing under the circumstances, +trusted to deeds not words. He insisted on their coming +home with him at once, and he would show them whether they +were welcome to Rotterdam or not.</p> + +<p>"Who doubts it, cousin? Who doubts it?" said the scholar.</p> + +<p>Margaret thanked him graciously, but demurred to go just now: +said she wanted to hear the minstrels again. In about a quarter +of an hour Johnson renewed his proposal, and bade her observe +that many of the guests had left. Then her real reason came out.</p> + +<p>"It were ill manners to our friend: and he will lose us. He +knows not where we lodge in Rotterdam, and the city is large, +and we have parted company once already."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Johnson, "we will provide for that. My young man, +ahem! I mean my secretary, shall sit here and wait, and bring +him on to my house: he shall lodge with me and with no other."</p> + +<p>"Cousin, we shall be too burdensome."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; you shall see whether you are welcome, or not, you +and your friends, and your friends' friends if need be: and I +shall hear what the princess would with him."</p> + +<p>Margaret felt a thrill of joy that Gerard should be lodged under +the same roof with her; then she had a slight misgiving. "But +if your young man should be thoughtless, and go play, and Gerard +miss him?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He go play? He leave that spot where I put him? and bid +him stay? Ho! Stand forth, Hans Cloterman."</p> + +<p>A figure clad in black serge and dark violet hose arose, and took +two steps and stood before them without moving a muscle: a solemn, +precise young man, the very statue of gravity and starched +propriety. At his aspect Margaret, being very happy, could hardly +keep her countenance. But she whispered Johnson, "I would put +my hand in the fire for him. We are at your command, cousin, +as soon as you have given him his orders."</p> + +<p>Hans was then instructed to sit at the table and wait for Gerard, +and conduct him to Ooster-Waagen Straet. He replied, not in +words, but by calmly taking the seat indicated, and Margaret, Peter, +and William Johnson went away together.</p> + +<p>"And, indeed, it is time you were abed, father, after all your +travel," said Margaret. This had been in her mind all along.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Hans Cloterman sat waiting for Gerard, solemn and business-like. +The minutes flew by, but excited no impatience in that perfect +young man. Johnson did him no more than justice when he +laughed to scorn the idea of his secretary leaving his post, or neglecting +his duty, in pursuit of sport or out of youthful hilarity +and frivolity.</p> + +<p>As Gerard was long in coming, the patient Hans—his employer's +eye being no longer on him—improved the time by quaffing solemnly, +silently, and at short but accurately measured intervals, +goblets of Corsican wine. The wine was strong, so was Cloterman's +head: and Gerard had been gone a good hour ere the model secretary +imbibed the notion that Creation expected Cloterman to drink +the health of all good fellows, and "nommément" of the Duke of +Burgundy there present. With this view he filled bumper nine, +and rose gingerly but solemnly and slowly. Having reached his +full height, he instantly rolled upon the grass, goblet in hand, +spilling the cold liquor on more than one ankle—whose owners +frisked—but not disturbing a muscle in his own long face, which, +in the total eclipse of reason, retained its gravity, primness, and +infallibility.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The seneschal led Gerard through several passages to the door +of the pavilion, where some young noblemen, embroidered and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +feathered, sat sentinel, guarding the heir-apparent, and playing +cards by the red light of torches their servants held. A whisper +from the seneschal, and one of them rose reluctantly, stared at +Gerard with haughty surprise, and entered the pavilion. He presently +returned, and, beckoning the pair, led them through a passage +or two and landed them in an ante-chamber, where sat three more +young gentlemen, feathered, furred, and embroidered like pieces of +fancy work, and deep in that instructive and edifying branch of +learning, dice.</p> + +<p>"You can't see the princess—it is too late," said one.</p> + +<p>Another followed suit:—</p> + +<p>"She passed this way but now with her nurse. She is gone to bed, +doll and all. Deuce-ace again!"</p> + +<p>Gerard prepared to retire. The seneschal, with an incredulous +smile, replied:—</p> + +<p>"The young man is here by the countess's orders; be so good as +conduct him to her ladies."</p> + +<p>On this a superb Adonis rose, with an injured look, and led +Gerard into a room where sat or lolloped eleven ladies, chattering +like magpies. Two, more industrious than the rest, were playing +cat's-cradle with fingers as nimble as their tongues. At the sight +of a stranger all the tongues stopped like one piece of complicated +machinery, and all the eyes turned on Gerard, as if the same string +that checked the tongues had turned the eyes on. Gerard was ill +at ease before, but this battery of eyes discountenanced him, and down +went <i>his</i> eyes on the ground. Then the cowards finding, like the +hare who ran by the pond and the frogs scuttled into the water, +that there was a creature they could frighten, giggled and enjoyed +their prowess. Then a duenna said, severely, "Mesdames!" and +they were all abashed at once as though a modesty string had been +pulled. This same duenna took Gerard, and marched before him +in solemn silence. The young man's heart sank, and he had half a +mind to turn and run out of the place. "What must princes be," +he thought, "when their courtiers are so freezing? Doubtless they +take their breeding from him they serve." These reflections were +interrupted by the duenna suddenly introducing him into a room +where three ladies sat working, and a pretty little girl tuning +a lute. The ladies were richly but not showily dressed, and the +duenna went up to the one who was hemming a kerchief, and said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +a few words in a low tone. This lady then turned towards Gerard, +with a smile, and beckoned him to come near her. She did not +rise, but she laid aside her work, and her manner of turning towards +him, slight as the movement was, was full of grace and ease and +courtesy. She began a conversation at once.</p> + +<p>"Margaret Van Eyck is an old friend of mine, sir, and I am right +glad to have a letter from her hand, and thankful to you, sir, for +bringing it to me safely. Marie, my love, this is the young gentleman +who brought you that pretty miniature."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I thank you a thousand times," said the young lady.</p> + +<p>"I am glad you feel her debtor, sweetheart, for our friend could +have us to do him a little service in return."</p> + +<p>"I will do anything on earth for him," replied the young lady +with ardour.</p> + +<p>"Anything on earth is nothing in the world," said the Countess of +Charolois, quietly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I will——What would you have me to do, sir?"</p> + +<p>Gerard had just found out what high society he was in. "My +sovereign demoiselle," said he, gently and a little tremulously, +"where there have been no pains there needs no reward."</p> + +<p>"But we must obey mamma. All the world must obey mamma."</p> + +<p>"That is true. Then, our demoiselle, reward me, if you will, +by letting me hear the stave you were going to sing and I did interrupt +it."</p> + +<p>"What, you love music, sir?"</p> + +<p>"I adore it."</p> + +<p>The little princess looked inquiringly at her mother, and received +a smile of assent. She then took her lute and sang a romaunt of +the day. Although but twelve years old, she was a well-taught and +painstaking musician. Her little claw swept the chords with courage +and precision, and struck out the notes of the arpeggio clear, and +distinct, and bright, like twinkling stars; but the main charm was +her voice. It was not mighty, but it was round, clear, full, and +ringing like a bell. She sang with a certain modest eloquence, +though she knew none of the tricks of feeling. She was too young +to be theatrical, or even sentimental, so nothing was forced—all +gushed. Her little mouth seemed the mouth of Nature. The ditty, +too, was as pure as its utterance. As there were none of those +false divisions—those whining slurs, which are now sold so dear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +by Italian songsters, though every jackal in India delivers them +gratis to his customers all night, and sometimes gets shot for them, +and always deserve it—so there were no cadences and fiorituri, the +trite, turgid, and feeble expletives of song, the skim milk, with which +mindless musicians and mindless writers quench fire, wash out colour, +and drown melody and meaning dead.</p> + +<p>While the pure and tender strain was flowing from the pure +young throat, Gerard's eyes filled. The countess watched him with +interest, for it was usual to applaud the princess loudly, but not +with cheek and eye. So when the voice ceased, and the glasses left +off ringing, she asked demurely, "Was he content?"</p> + +<p>Gerard gave a little start; the spoken voice broke the charm, and +brought him back to earth.</p> + +<p>"Oh, madam!" he cried, "surely it is thus that cherubs and seraphs +sing, and charm the saints in heaven."</p> + +<p>"I am somewhat of your opinion, my young friend," said the +countess, with emotion; and she bent a look of love and gentle pride +upon her girl: a heavenly look, such as, they say, is given to the +eye of the short-lived resting on the short-lived.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The countess resumed:</p> + +<p>"My old friend requests me to be serviceable to you. It is the +first favour she has done us the honour of asking us, and the request +is sacred. You are in holy orders, sir?"</p> + +<p>Gerard bowed.</p> + +<p>"I fear you are not a priest, you look too young."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, madam; I am not even a sub-deacon. I am only a +lector; but next month I shall be an exorcist; and before long an +acolyth."</p> + +<p>"Well, Monsieur Gerard, with your accomplishments you can soon +pass through the inferior orders. And let me beg you to do so. +For the day after you have said your first mass I shall have the +pleasure of appointing you to a benefice."</p> + +<p>"Oh, madam!"</p> + +<p>"And, Marie, remember I make this promise in your name as +well as my own."</p> + +<p>"Fear not mamma: I will not forget. But if he will take my +advice, what he will be is Bishop of Liége. The Bishop of Liége +is a beautiful bishop. What! do you not remember him, mamma,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +that day we were at Liége? he was braver than grandpa himself. +He had on a crown, a high one, and it was cut in the middle, and +it was full of oh! such beautiful jewels: and his gown stiff with gold; +and his mantle, too; and it had a broad border, all pictures: but, +above all, his gloves; you have no such gloves, mamma. They were +embroidered and covered with jewels, and scented with such lovely +scent; I smelt them all the time he was giving me his blessing on +my head with them. Dear old man! I dare say he will die soon—most +old people do—and then, sir, you can be bishop, you know, +and wear—"</p> + +<p>"Gently, Marie, gently: bishoprics are for old gentlemen; and +this is a young gentleman."</p> + +<p>"Mamma! he is not so very young."</p> + +<p>"Not compared with you, Marie, eh?"</p> + +<p>"He is a good bigth, dear mamma; and I am sure he is <i>good</i> +enough for a bishop."</p> + +<p>"Alas, mademoiselle! you are mistaken."</p> + +<p>"I know not that, Monsieur Gerard; but I am a little puzzled to +know on what grounds mademoiselle there pronounces your character +so boldly."</p> + +<p>"Alas, mamma!" said the princess, "you have not looked at his +face, then;" and she raised her eyebrows at her mother's simplicity.</p> + +<p>"I beg your pardon," said the countess, "I have. Well, sir, if +I cannot go quite so fast as my daughter, attribute it to my age, +not to a want of interest in your welfare. A benefice will do to +begin your career with; and I must take care it is not too far from—what +call you the place?"</p> + +<p>"Tergou, madam."</p> + +<p>"A priest gives up much," continued the countess; "often, I fear, +he learns too late how much:" and her woman's eye rested a moment +on Gerard with mild pity and half surprise at his resigning her +sex, and all the heaven they can bestow, and the great parental +joys: "at least you shall be near your friends. Have you a mother?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, madam; thanks be to God!"</p> + +<p>"Good! You shall have a church near Tergou. She will thank +me. And now, sir, we must not detain you too long from those who +have a better claim on your society than we have. Duchess, oblige +me by bidding one of the pages conduct him to the hall of banquet; +the way is hard to find."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gerard bowed low to the countess and the princess, and backed +towards the door.</p> + +<p>"I hope it will be a nice benefice," said the princess to him, with +a pretty smile, as he was going out; then, shaking her head with an +air of solemn misgiving, "but you had better have been Bishop of +Liége."</p> + +<p>Gerard followed his new conductor, his heart warm with gratitude: +but ere he reached the banquet-hall a chill came over him. +The mind of one who has led a quiet, uneventful life is not apt to +take in contradictory feelings at the same moment and balance them, +but rather to be overpowered by each in turn. While Gerard was +with the countess, the excitement of so new a situation, the unlooked +for promise, the joy and pride it would cause at home, possessed +him wholly: but now it was passion's turn to be heard again. What, +give up Margaret, whose soft hand he still felt in his, and her deep +eyes in his heart? resign her and all the world of love and joy she +had opened on him to-day? The revulsion, when it did come, was +so strong, that he hastily resolved to say nothing at home about the +offered benefice. "The countess is so good," thought he, "she has +a hundred ways of aiding a young man's fortune: she will not +compel me to be a priest when she shall learn I love one of her +sex: one would almost think she does know it, for she cast a strange +look on me and said, 'A priest gives up much, too much.' I dare +say she will give me a place about the palace." And with this +hopeful reflection his mind was eased, and, being now at the entrance +of the banqueting-hall, he thanked his conductor, and ran hastily +with joyful eyes to Margaret. He came in sight of her table—she +was gone. Peter was gone too. Nobody was at the table at all: +only a citizen in sober garments had just tumbled under it dead +drunk, and several persons were raising him to carry him away. +Gerard never guessed how important this solemn drunkard was to +him: he was looking for "Beauty," and let the "Beast" lie. He +ran wildly round the hall, which was now comparatively empty. +She was not there. He left the palace: outside he found a crowd +gaping at two great fanlights just lighted over the gate. He asked +them earnestly if they had seen an old man in a gown, and a lovely +girl pass out. They laughed at the question. "They were staring +at these new lights that turn night into day. They didn't trouble +their heads about old men and young wenches, every-day sights."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +From another group he learned there was a Mystery being played +under canvas hard by, and all the world gone to see it. This revived +his hopes, and he went and saw the Mystery. In this representation +divine personages, too sacred for me to name here, came +clumsily down from heaven to talk sophistry with the cardinal +Virtues, the nine Muses, and the seven deadly Sins, all present in +human shape, and not unlike one another. To enliven which weary +stuff in rattled the Prince of the power of the air, and an imp +that kept molesting him and buffeting him with a bladder, at each +thwack of which the crowd were in ecstasies. When the Vices +had uttered good store of obscenity and the Virtues twaddle, the +celestials, including the nine Muses, went gingerly back to heaven +one by one; for there was but one cloud; and two artisans worked +it up with its supernatural freight, and worked it down with a winch, +in full sight of the audience. These disposed of, the bottomless +pit opened and flamed in the centre of the stage; the carpenters and +Virtues shoved the Vices in, and the Virtues and Beelzebub and +his tormentor danced merrily round the place of eternal torture to +the fife and tabor.</p> + +<p>This entertainment was writ by the Bishop of Ghent for the +diffusion of religious sentiment by the aid of the senses, and was +an average specimen of theatrical exhibitions so long as they were +in the hands of the clergy. But, in course of time, the laity conducted +plays, and so the theatre, I learn from the pulpit, has become +profane.</p> + +<p>Margaret was nowhere in the crowd, and Gerard could not enjoy +the performance: he actually went away in Act 2, in the midst of +a much-admired piece of dialogue, in which Justice out-quibbled +Satan. He walked through many streets, but could not find her +he sought. At last, fairly worn out, he went to a hostelry and slept +till daybreak. All that day, heavy and heartsick, he sought her, +but could never fall in with her or her father, nor ever obtain the +slightest clue. Then he felt she was false or had changed her mind. +He was irritated now, as well as sad. More good fortune fell on +him: he almost hated it. At last, on the third day, after he had +once more been through every street, he said "She is not in the +town, and I shall never see her again. I will go home." He started +for Tergou with a royal favour promised, with fifteen golden angels +in his purse, a golden medal on his bosom and a heart like a lump +of lead.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT was near four o'clock in the afternoon. Eli was in the shop. +His eldest and youngest sons were abroad. Catherine and her +little crippled daughter had long been anxious about Gerard, +and now they were gone a little way down the road, to see if by good +luck he might be visible in the distance; and Giles was alone in +the sitting-room, which I will sketch, furniture and dwarf included.</div> + +<p>The Hollanders were always an original and leading people. They +claim to have invented printing (wooden type), oil-painting, liberty, +banking, gardening, &c. Above all, years before my tale, they invented +cleanliness. So while the English gentry, in velvet jerkins, +and chicken-toed shoes, trode floors of stale rushes, foul receptacle +of bones, decomposing morsels, spittle, dogs' eggs, and all abominations, +this hosier's sitting-room at Tergou was floored with Dutch +tiles, so highly glazed and constantly washed, that you could eat off +them. There was one large window; the cross stone-work in the +centre of it was very massive, and stood in relief, looking like an +actual cross to the inmates, and was eyed as such in their devotions. +The panes were very small and lozenge-shaped, and soldered to one +another with strips of lead: the like you may see to this day in our +rural cottages. The chairs were rude and primitive, all but the +arm-chair, whose back, at right angles with its seat, was so high +that the sitter's head stopped two feet short of the top. This chair +was of oak and carved at the summit. There was a copper pail, +that went in at the waist, holding holy water; and a little hand-besom +to sprinkle it far and wide; and a long, narrow but massive oak table, +and a dwarf sticking to its rim by his teeth, his eyes glaring, and +his claws in the air like a pouncing vampire. Nature, it would +seem, did not make Giles a dwarf out of malice prepense: she constructed +a head and torso with her usual care: but just then her attention +was distracted, and she left the rest to chance; the result was +a human wedge, an inverted cone. He might justly have taken her +to task in the terms of Horace:—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<span style="margin-left: 7em;">Amphora cœpit</span><br /> +Institui; currente rotâ cur urceus exit?<br /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<div class='unindent'>His centre was anything but his centre of gravity. Bisected, upper +Giles would have outweighed three lower Giles. But this very disproportion +enabled him to do feats that would have baffled Milo. +His brawny arms had no weight to draw after them; so he could go +up a vertical pole like a squirrel, and hang for hours from a bough +by one hand like a cherry by its stalk. If he could have made a +vacuum with his hands, as the lizard is said to do with its feet, he +would have gone along a ceiling. Now, this pocket athlete was insanely +fond of gripping the dinner-table with both hands, and so +swinging; and then—climax of delight!—he would seize it with his +teeth, and taking off his hands, hold on like grim death by his huge +ivories.</div> + +<p>But all our joys, however elevating, suffer interruption. Little +Kate caught Sampsonet in this posture, and stood aghast. She was +her mother's daughter, and her heart was with the furniture, not +with the 12mo. gymnast.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Giles! how can you? Mother is at hand. It dents the table."</p> + +<p>"Go and tell her, little talebearer," snarled Giles. "You are the +one for making mischief."</p> + +<p>"Am I?" inquired Kate, calmly; "that is news to me."</p> + +<p>"The biggest in Tergou," growled Giles, fastening on again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, indeed?" said Kate drily.</p> + +<p>This piece of unwonted satire launched, and Giles not visibly +blasted, she sat down quietly and cried.</p> + +<p>Her mother came in almost at that moment, and Giles hurled +himself under the table, and there glared.</p> + +<p>"What is to do now?" said the dame, sharply. Then turning her +experienced eye from Kate to Giles, and observing the position he had +taken up, and a sheepish expression, she hinted at cuffing of ears.</p> + +<p>"Nay, mother," said the girl; "it was but a foolish word Giles +spoke. I had not noticed it at another time; but I was tired and in +care for Gerard, you know."</p> + +<p>"Let no one be in care for me," said a faint voice at the door, and +in tottered Gerard, pale dusty, and worn out; and amidst uplifted +hands and cries of delight, curiosity, and anxiety, mingled, dropped +exhausted into the nearest chair.</p> + +<p>Beating Rotterdam, like a covert, for Margaret, and the long journey +afterwards, had fairly knocked Gerard up. But elastic youth +soon revived, and behold him the centre of an eager circle. First of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +all they must hear about the prizes. Then Gerard told them he had +been admitted to see the competitors' works all laid out in an enormous +hall before the judges pronounced. "Oh, mother! oh Kate; +when I saw the goldsmith's work, I had like to have fallen on the +floor. I had thought not all the goldsmiths on earth had so much +gold, silver, jewels, and craft of design and facture. But, in sooth, +all the arts are divine."</p> + +<p>Then to please the females, he described to them the reliquaries, +feretories, calices, crosiers, crosses, pyxes, monstrances, and other +wonders ecclesiastical, and the goblets, hanaps, watches, clocks, +chains, brooches, &c., so that their mouths watered.</p> + +<p>"But Kate, when I came to the illuminated work from Ghent and +Bruges, my heart sank. Mine was dirt by the side of it. For the +first minute I could almost have cried; but I prayed for a better +spirit, and presently I was able to enjoy them, and thank God for +those lovely works, and for those skilful, patient craftsmen, whom +I own my masters. Well, the coloured work was so beautiful I forgot +all about the black and white. But, next day, when all the other +prizes had been given, they came to the writing, and whose name +think you was called first?"</p> + +<p>"Yours," said Kate.</p> + +<p>The others laughed her to scorn.</p> + +<p>"You may well laugh," said Gerard, "but for all that Gerard Eliassoen +of Tergou was the name the herald shouted. I stood stupid; +they thrust me forward. Everything swam before my eyes. I +found myself kneeling on a cushion at the feet of the duke. He +said something to me, but I was so fluttered I could not answer him. +So then he put his hand to his side and did not draw a glaive and cut +off my dull head, but gave me a gold medal, and there it is." There +was a yell and almost a scramble. "And then he gave me fifteen +great bright golden angels. I had seen one before, but I never +handled one. Here they are."</p> + +<p>"Oh Gerard! oh Gerard!"</p> + +<p>"There is one for you, our eldest; and one for you, Sybrandt, and +for you, Little Mischief; and two for thee, Little Lily, because God +hath afflicted thee; and one for myself to buy colours and vellum; and +nine for her that nursed us all, and risked the two crowns upon +poor Gerard's hand."</p> + +<p>The gold drew out their characters. Cornelis and Sybrandt clutched<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +each his coin with one glare of greediness and another glare of envy +at Kate who had got two pieces. Giles seized his and rolled it along +the floor and gambolled after it. Kate put down her crutches and +sat down, and held out her little arms to Gerard with a heavenly +gesture of love and tenderness, and the mother, fairly benumbed at +first by the shower of gold that fell on her apron, now cried out, +"Leave kissing him, Kate, he is my son, not yours. Ah, Gerard, my +boy! I have not loved you as you deserved."</p> + +<p>Then Gerard threw himself on his knees beside her, and she flung +her arms round him and wept for joy and pride, upon his neck.</p> + +<p>"Good lad! good lad!" cried the hosier, with some emotion. "I +must go and tell the neighbors. Lend me the medal, Gerard, I'll +show it my good friend, Peter Buyskens; he is ever regaling me with +how his son Jorian won the tin mug a shooting at the butts."</p> + +<p>"Ay, do my man; and show Peter Buyskens one of the angels. +Tell him there are fourteen more where that came from. Mind you +bring it me back!"</p> + +<p>"Stay a minute, father, there is better news behind," said Gerard, +flushing with joy at the joy he caused.</p> + +<p>"Better! Better than this?"</p> + +<p>Then Gerard told his interview with the countess, and the house +rang with joy.</p> + +<p>"Now God bless the good lady and bless the Dame Van Eyck! A +benefice? our son! My cares are at an end. Eli, my good friend and +master, now we two can die happy whenever our time comes. This +dear boy will take our place, and none of these loved ones will want +a home or a friend."</p> + +<p>From that hour Gerard was looked upon as the stay of the family. +He was a son apart, but in another sense. He was always in the +right, and nothing was too good for him. Cornelis and Sybrandt +became more and more jealous of him, and longed for the day he +should go to his benefice: they would get rid of the favourite, and his +reverence's purse would be open to them. With these views he co-operated. +The wound love had given him, throbbed duller and duller. +His success and the affection and admiration of his parents, +made him think more highly of himself, and resent with more +spirit Margaret's ingratitude and discourtesy. For all that, she +had power to cool him towards the rest of her sex, and now for +every reason he wished to be ordained priest as soon as he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +pass the intermediate orders. He knew the Vulgate already better +than most of the clergy, and studied the rubric and the dogmas of +the Church with his friends the monks; and, the first time the bishop +came that way, he applied to be admitted "exorcist," the third step +in holy orders. The bishop questioned him, and ordained him at +once. He had to kneel, and after a short prayer, the bishop delivered +to him a little MS. full of exorcisms, and said: "Take this, +Gerard, and have power to lay hands on the possessed, whether baptized +or catechumens!" and he took it reverently, and went home +invested by the Church with power to cast out demons.</p> + +<p>Returning home from the church, he was met by little Kate on +her crutches.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerard! who think you, hath sent to our house seeking +you?—the burgomaster himself."</p> + +<p>"Ghysbrecht Van Swieten? What would he with me?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, Gerard, I know not. But he seems urgent to see you. +You are to go to his house on the instant."</p> + +<p>"Well, he is the burgomaster: I will go: but it likes me not. +Kate, I have seen him cast such a look on me as no friend casts. +No matter; such looks forewarn the wise. To be sure, he knows—"</p> + +<p>"Knows what, Gerard?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing."</p> + +<p>"Nothing?"</p> + +<p>"Kate, I'll go."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GHYSBRECHT VAN SWIETEN was an artful man. He +opened on the novice with something quite wide of the +mark he was really aiming at. "The town records," said +he, "are crabbedly written, and the ink rusty with age." He offered +Gerard the honour of transcribing them fair.</div> + +<p>Gerard inquired what he was to be paid.</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht offered a sum that would have just purchased the pens, +ink, and parchment.</p> + +<p>"But, burgomaster, my labour? Here is a year's work."</p> + +<p>"Your labour? Call you marking parchment labour? Little +sweat goes to that, I trow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis labour, and skilled labour to boot: and that is better paid +in all crafts than rude labour, sweat or no sweat. Beside, there's +my time."</p> + +<p>"Your time? Why what is time to you, at two-and-twenty?" +Then fixing his eyes keenly on Gerard, to mark the effect of his words, +he said: "Say rather, you are idle grown. You are in love. Your +body is with these chanting monks, but your heart is with Peter +Brandt and his red-haired girl."</p> + +<p>"I know no Peter Brandt."</p> + +<p>"This denial confirmed Ghysbrecht's suspicion that the caster-out +of demons was playing a deep game.</p> + +<p>"Ye lie!" he shouted. "Did I not find you at her elbow, on the +road to Rotterdam?"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Ah. And you were seen at Sevenbergen but t'other day."</p> + +<p>"Was I?"</p> + +<p>"Ay; and at Peter's house."</p> + +<p>"At Sevenbergen?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, at Sevenbergen."</p> + +<p>Now, this was what in modern days is called a draw. It was a +guess, put boldly forth as fact, to elicit by the young man's answer, +whether he had been there lately or not.</p> + +<p>The result of the artifice surprised the crafty one. Gerard started +up in a strange state of nervous excitement.</p> + +<p>"Burgomaster," said he, with trembling voice, "I have not been at +Sevenbergen this three years, and I knew not the name of those +you saw me with, nor where they dwelt; but as my time is precious, +though you value it not, give you good day." And he darted out +with his eyes sparkling.</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht started up in huge ire; but he sank into his chair +again.</p> + +<p>"He fears me not. He knows something if not all."</p> + +<p>Then he called hastily to his trusty servant, and almost dragged +him to a window.</p> + +<p>"See you yon man?" he cried. "Haste! Follow him! But let +him not see you. He is young, but old in craft. Keep him in +sight all day. Let me know whither he goes and what he does."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>It was night when the servant returned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well? well?" cried Van Swieten, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Master, the young man went from you to Sevenbergen."</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht groaned.</p> + +<p>"To the house of Peter the Magician."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> + + + +<p>"LOOK into your own heart and write!" said Herr Cant; and +earth's cuckoos echoed the cry. Look into the Rhine where +it is deepest, and the Thames where it is thickest, and paint +the bottom. Lower a bucket into a well of self-deception, and what +comes up must be immortal truth, mustn't it? Now, in the first +place no son of Adam ever reads his own heart at all, except by the +habit acquired, and the light gained, from some years' perusal of +other hearts; and even then, with his acquired sagacity and reflected +light, he can but spell and decipher his own heart, not read it +fluently. Half way to Sevenbergen Gerard looked into his own +heart, and asked it why he was going to Sevenbergen. His heart +replied without a moment's hesitation. "We are going out of +curiosity, to know why she jilted us, and to show her it has not +broken our hearts, and that we are quite content with our honours +and our benefice in prospectu, and don't want her nor any of her +fickle sex."</p> + +<p>He soon found out Peter Brandt's cottage; and there sat a girl +in the doorway, plying her needle, and a stalwart figure leaned on +a long bow and talked to her. Gerard felt an unaccountable pang at +the sight of him. However, the man turned out to be past fifty +years of age, an old soldier, whom Gerard remembered to have seen +shoot at the butts with admirable force and skill. Another minute +and the youth stood before them. Margaret looked up and dropped +her work, and uttered a faint cry, and was white and red by turns. +But these signs of emotion were swiftly dismissed, and she turned far +more chill and indifferent than she would if she had not betrayed +this agitation.</p> + +<p>"What! is it you, Master Gerard? What on earth brings you +here, I wonder?"</p> + +<p>"I was passing by and saw you; so I thought I would give you +good day and ask after your father."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My father is well. He will be here anon."</p> + +<p>"Then I may as well stay till he comes."</p> + +<p>"As you will. Good Martin, step into the village and tell my +father here is a friend of his."</p> + +<p>"And not of yours?"</p> + +<p>"My father's friends are mine."</p> + +<p>"That is doubtful. It was not like a friend to promise to wait +for me, and then make off the moment my back was turned. Cruel +Margaret! you little know how I searched the town for you; how +for want of you nothing was pleasant to me."</p> + +<p>"These are idle words; if you had desired my father's company, +or mine, you would have come back. There I had a bed laid for you, +sir, at my cousin's, and he would have made much of you, and, who +knows, I might have made much of you too. I was in the humour +that day. You will not catch me in the same mind again, neither +you nor any young man, I warrant me."</p> + +<p>"Margaret, I came back the moment the countess let me go; but +you were not there."</p> + +<p>"Nay, you did not, or you had seen Hans Cloterman at our table; +we left him to bring you on."</p> + +<p>"I saw no one there, but only a drunken man that had just tumbled +down."</p> + +<p>"At our table? How was he clad?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I took little heed: in sad coloured garb."</p> + +<p>At this Margaret's face gradually warmed; but presently, assuming +incredulity and severity, she put many shrewd questions, all of +which Gerard answered most loyally. Finally, the clouds cleared, +and they guessed how the misunderstanding had come about. Then +came a revulsion of tenderness, all the more powerful that they had +done each other wrong; and then, more dangerous still, came mutual +confessions. Neither had been happy since, neither ever would have +been happy but for this fortunate meeting.</p> + +<p>And Gerard found a MS. Vulgate lying open on the table, and +pounced upon it like a hawk. MSS. were his delight; but before he +could get to it two white hands quickly came flat upon the page, and +a red face over them.</p> + +<p>"Nay, take away your hands, Margaret, that I may see where you +are reading, and I will read there too at home; so shall my soul meet +yours in the sacred page. You will not? Nay, then, I must kiss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +them away." And he kissed them so often, that for very shame +they were fain to withdraw, and, lo! the sacred book lay open at</p> + +<div class='center'> +An apple of gold in a network of silver.<br /> +</div> + +<p>"There, now," said she, "I had been hunting for it ever so long, and +found it but even now—and to be caught!" and with a touch of inconsistency +she pointed it out to Gerard with her white finger.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said he, "but to-day it is all hidden in that great cap."</p> + +<p>"It is a comely cap, I'm told by some."</p> + +<p>"Maybe: but what it hides is beautiful."</p> + +<p>"It is not: it is hideous."</p> + +<p>"Well, it was beautiful at Rotterdam."</p> + +<p>"Ay, everything was beautiful that day" (with a little sigh).</p> + +<p>And now Peter came in, and welcomed Gerard cordially, and +would have him stay to supper. And Margaret disappeared; and +Gerard had a nice learned chat with Peter; and Margaret reappeared +with her hair in a silver net, and shot a glance half arch half coy, and +glided about them, and spread supper, and beamed bright with +gaiety and happiness. And in the cool evening Gerard coaxed her +out, and she objected, and came; and coaxed her on to the road to +Tergou and she declined, and came, and there they strolled up and +down, hand in hand; and when he must go they pledged each other +never to quarrel or misunderstand one another again; and they sealed +the promise with a long loving kiss, and Gerard went home on wings.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>From that day Gerard spent most of his evenings with Margaret, +and the attachment deepened and deepened on both sides till the +hours they spent together were the hours they lived; the rest they +counted and underwent. And at the outset of this deep attachment +all went smoothly; obstacles there were, but they seemed distant +and small to the eyes of hope, youth and love. The feelings and +passions of so many persons, that this attachment would thwart, +gave no warning smoke to show their volcanic nature and power. +The course of true love ran smoothly, placidly, until it had drawn +these two young hearts into its current for ever.</p> + +<p>And then—</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>ONE bright morning unwonted velvet shone, unwonted +feathers waved, and horses' hoofs glinted and rang through +the streets of Tergou, and the windows and balconies were +studded with wondering faces. The French ambassador was riding +through to sport in the neighbouring forest.</div> + +<p>Besides his own suite he was attended by several servants of the +Duke of Bergundy, lent to do him honour and minister to his pleasure. +The duke's tumbler rode before him with a grave, sedate +majesty that made his more noble companions, seem light, frivolous +persons. But ever and anon, when respect and awe neared the +oppressive, he rolled off his horse so ignobly and funnily that even +the ambassador was fain to burst out laughing. He also climbed up +again by the tail in a way provocative of mirth, and so he played his +part. Towards the rear of the pageant rode one that excited more +attention still—the duke's leopard. A huntsman mounted on a +Flemish horse of prodigious size and power, carried a long box +fastened to the rider's loins by straps curiously contrived, and on +this box sat a bright leopard crouching. She was chained to the +huntsman. The people admired her glossy hide and spots, and +pressed near, and one or two were for feeling her, and pulling her +tail; then the huntsman shouted in a terrible voice, "Beware! At +Antwerp one did but throw a handful of dust at her, and the duke +made dust of him."</p> + +<p>"Gramercy!"</p> + +<p>"I speak sooth. The good duke shut him up in prison, in a cell +under ground, and the rats cleaned the flesh off his bones in a night. +Served him right for molesting the poor thing." There was a murmur +of fear, and the Tergovians shrank from tickling the leopard +of their sovereign.</p> + +<p>But an incident followed that raised their spirits again. The +duke's giant, a Hungarian seven feet four inches high, brought up +the rear. This enormous creature had, like some other giants, a +treble, fluty voice of little power. He was a vain fellow, and not +conscious of this nor any defect. Now it happened he caught sight +of Giles sitting on top of the balcony; so he stopped and began to +make fun of him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hallo! brother!" squeaked he, "I had nearly passed without +seeing thee."</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> are plain enough to see," bellowed Giles, in his bass tones.</p> + +<p>"Come on my shoulder, brother," squeaked Titan, and held out +a shoulder of mutton fist to help him down.</p> + +<p>"If I do I'll cuff your ears," roared the dwarf.</p> + +<p>The giant saw the homuncule was irascible, and played upon him, +being encouraged thereto by the shouts of laughter. For he did not +see that the people were laughing not at his wit, but at the ridiculous +incongruity of the two voices—the gigantic feeble fife, and +the petty, deep, loud drum, the mountain delivered of a squeak and +the mole-hill belching thunder.</p> + +<p>The singular duet came to as singular an end. Giles lost all +patience and self-command, and being a creature devoid of fear, and +in a rage to boot, he actually dropped upon the giant's neck, seized +his hair with one hand, and punched his head with the other. The +giant's first impulse was to laugh, but the weight and rapidity of the +blows soon corrected that inclination.</p> + +<p>"He! he! Ah! ha! hallo! oh! oh! Holy saints! here! help! or +I must throttle the imp. I can't! I'll split your skull against +the——" and he made a wild run backwards at the balcony. Giles +saw his danger, seized the balcony in time with both hands, and +whipped over it just as the giant's head came against it with a stunning +crack. The people roared with laughter and exultation at the +address of their little champion. The indignant giant seized two of +the laughers, knocked them together like dumb-bells, shook them and +strewed them flat—(Catherine shrieked and threw her apron over +Giles)—then strode wrathfully away after the party. This incident +had consequences no one then present foresaw. Its immediate results +were agreeable. The Tergovians turned proud of Giles, and +listened with more affability to his prayers for parchment. For he +drove a regular trade with his brother Gerard in this article. Went +about and begged it gratis, and Gerard gave him coppers for it.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of the same day, Catherine and her daughter +were chatting together about their favourite theme, Gerard, his goodness, +his benefice, and the brightened prospects of the whole family.</p> + +<p>Their good luck had come to them in the very shape they would +have chosen; besides the advantages of a benefice such as the Countess +Charolois would not disdain to give, there was the feminine delight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +at having a priest, a holy man, in their own family. "He will marry +Cornelis, and Sybrandt: for they can wed (good housewives), now +if they will. Gerard will take care of you and Giles, when we are +gone."</p> + +<p>"Yes mother, and we can confess to him instead of to a stranger," +said Kate.</p> + +<p>"Ay, girl! and he can give the sacred oil to your father and me, and +close our eyes when our time comes."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother! not for many, many years I do pray Heaven. Pray +speak not of that, it always makes me sad. I hope to go before you, +mother dear. No; let us be gay to-day. I am out of pain; mother, +quite out of all pain; it does seem so strange; and I feel so bright +and happy, that—mother, can you keep a secret?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody better, child. Why, you know I can."</p> + +<p>"Then I will show you something so beautiful. You never saw +the like, I trow. Only Gerard must never know; for sure he means +to surprise us with; he covers it up so, and sometimes he carries it +away altogether."</p> + +<p>Kate took her crutches, and moved slowly away, leaving her mother +in an exalted state of curiosity. She soon returned with something +in a cloth, uncovered it, and there was a lovely picture of the Virgin, +with all her insignia, and wearing her tiara over a wealth of beautiful +hair, which flowed loose over her shoulders. Catherine, at +first was struck with awe.</p> + +<p>"It is herself," she cried; "it is the Queen of Heaven. I never +saw one like her to my mind before."</p> + +<p>"And her eyes, mother: lifted to the sky, as if they belonged there, +and not to a mortal creature. And her beautiful hair of burning +gold."</p> + +<p>"And to think I have a son that can make the saints live again upon +a piece of wood!"</p> + +<p>"The reason is, he is a young saint himself, mother. He is too +good for this world; he is here to portray the blessed, and then to go +away and be with them for ever."</p> + +<p>Ere they had half done admiring it, a strange voice was heard at +the door. By one of the furtive instincts of their sex they hastily hid +the picture in the cloth, though there was no need. And the next +moment in came, casting his eyes furtively around, a man that had +not entered the house this ten years—Ghysbrecht Van Swieten.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p>The two women were so taken by surprise, that they merely stared +at him and at one another, and said, "The Burgomaster!" in a tone so +expressive, that Ghysbrecht felt compelled to answer it.</p> + +<p>"Yes! I own, the last time I came here was not on a friendly errand. +Men love their own interest—Eli's and mine were contrary. +Well, let this visit atone for the last. To-day I come on your business, +and none of mine." Catherine and her daughter exchanged a +swift glance of contemptuous incredulity. They knew the man better +than he thought.</p> + +<p>"It is about your son Gerard."</p> + +<p>"Ay! ay! you want him to work for the town all for nothing. +He told us."</p> + +<p>"I come on no such errand. It is to let you know he has fallen +into bad hands."</p> + +<p>"Now Heaven and the saints forbid! Man, torture not a mother! +Speak out, and quickly: speak ere you have time to coin a falsehood: +we know thee."</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht turned pale at this affront, and spite mingled with the +other motives that brought him here. "Thus it is, then," said he, +grinding his teeth, and speaking very fast. "Your son Gerard is +more like to be the father of a family than a priest: he is for ever +with Margaret, Peter Brandt's red-haired girl, and he loves her like +a cow her calf."</p> + +<p>Mother and daughter both burst out laughing. Ghysbrecht stared +at them.</p> + +<p>"What, you knew it?"</p> + +<p>"Carry this tale to those who know not my son Gerard. Women +are nought to him."</p> + +<p>"Other women, mayhap. But this one is the apple of his eye to +him or will be, if you part them not, and soon. Come, dame, make +me not waste time and friendly counsel: my servant has seen them +together a score of times, handed, and reading babies in one another's +eyes like—you know, dame—you have been young too."</p> + +<p>"Girl, I am ill at ease. Yea I have been young, and know how +blind and foolish the young are. My heart! He has turned me +sick in a moment. Kate, if it should be true."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay!" cried Kate, eagerly. "Gerard might love a young +woman: all young men do: I can't find what they see in them to love +so: but if he did he would let us know; he would not deceive us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +You wicked man! No, dear mother look not so! Gerard is too +good to love a creature of earth. His love is for our Lady and the +saints. Ah! I will show you the picture—there: if his heart was +earthly could he paint the Queen of Heaven like that—look! look!" +and she held the picture out triumphantly, and more radiant and +beautiful in this moment of enthusiasm than ever dead picture was +or will be, overpowered the burgomaster with her eloquence and +her feminine proof of Gerard's purity. His eyes and mouth opened, +and remained open: in which state they kept turning face and all, +as if on a pivot, from the picture to the women, and from the women +to the picture.</p> + +<p>"Why, it is herself," he gasped.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it?" cried Kate, and her hostility was softened. "You admire +it? I forgive you for frightening us."</p> + +<p>"Am I in a mad-house?" said Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, thoroughly +puzzled. "You show me a picture of the girl; and you say he +painted it; and that is proof he cannot love her. Why they all +paint their sweethearts, painters do."</p> + +<p>"A picture of the girl?" exclaimed Kate, shocked. "Fie! this +is no girl; this is our blessed Lady."</p> + +<p>"No; no, it is Margaret Brandt."</p> + +<p>"Oh blind! It is the Queen of Heaven."</p> + +<p>"No; only of Sevenbergen village."</p> + +<p>"Profane man! behold her crown!"</p> + +<p>"Silly child! look at her red hair! Would the Virgin be seen in +red hair? She who had the pick of all the colours ten thousand +years before the world began."</p> + +<p>At this moment an anxious face was insinuated round the edge of +the open door: it was their neighbour Peter Buyskens.</p> + +<p>"What is to do?" said he in a cautious whisper. "We can hear +you all across the street. What on earth is to do?"</p> + +<p>"O, neighbour! What is to do? Why here is the burgomaster +blackening our Gerard."</p> + +<p>"Stop!" cried Van Swieten. "Peter Buyskens is come in the nick +of time. He knows father and daughter both. They cast their +glamour on him."</p> + +<p>"What is she a witch, too?"</p> + +<p>"Else the egg takes not after the bird. Why is her father called +the magician? I tell you they bewitched this very Peter here; they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +cast unholy spells on him, and cured him of the colic: now, Peter, +look and tell me who is that? and you be silent, women, for a moment, +if you can; who is it, Peter?"</p> + +<p>"Well to be sure!" said Peter in reply: and his eye seemed fascinated +by the picture.</p> + +<p>"Who is it?" repeated Ghysbrecht, impetuously.</p> + +<p>Peter Buyskens smiled. "Why you know as well as I do; but +what have they put a crown on her for, I never saw her in a crown, +for my part."</p> + +<p>"Man alive! Can't you open your great jaws, and just speak a +wench's name plain out to oblige three people?"</p> + +<p>"I'd do a great deal more to oblige one of you than that, burgomaster. +If it isn't as natural as life!"</p> + +<p>"Curse the man! he won't, he won't—curse him!"</p> + +<p>"Why, what have I done, now?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir!" said little Kate, "for pity's sake tell us; are these the +features of a living woman, of—of—Margaret Brandt?"</p> + +<p>"A mirror is not truer, my little maid."</p> + +<p>"But is it she, sir, for very certain?"</p> + +<p>"Why, who else should it be?"</p> + +<p>"Now, why couldn't you say so at once?" snarled Ghysbrecht.</p> + +<p>"I did say so, as plain as I could speak," snapped Peter; and they +growled over this small bone of contention so zealously, that they did +not see Catherine and her daughter had thrown their aprons over +their heads, and were rocking to and fro in deep distress. The next +moment Elias came in from the shop, and stood aghast. Catherine, +though her face was covered, knew his footstep.</p> + +<p>"That is my poor man," she sobbed. "Tell him, good Peter Buyskens, +for I have not the courage."</p> + +<p>Elias turned pale. The presence of the burgomaster in his house, +after so many years of coolness, coupled with his wife's and daughter's +distress, made him fear some heavy misfortune.</p> + +<p>"Richart! Jacob!" he gasped.</p> + +<p>"No! no!" said the burgomaster; "it is nearer home, and nobody is +dead or dying, old friend."</p> + +<p>"God bless you, burgomaster! Ah! something is gone off my +breast that was like to choke me. Now, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht then told him all that he told the women, and showed +the picture in evidence.</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" said Eli, profoundly relieved. "What are ye roaring<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +and bellowing for? It is vexing, it is angering, but it is not like +death nor even sickness. Boys will be boys. He will outgrow that +disease: 'tis but skin deep."</p> + +<p>But when Ghysbrecht told him that Margaret was a girl of good +character; that it was not to be supposed she would be so intimate +if marriage had not been spoken of between them, his brow darkened.</p> + +<p>"Marriage? that shall never be," said he, sternly. "I'll stay that, +ay, by force if need be, as I would his hand lifted to cut his throat. +I'd do what old John Koestein did t'other day."</p> + +<p>"And what is that, in Heaven's name?" asked the mother, suddenly +removing her apron.</p> + +<p>It was the burgomaster who replied:</p> + +<p>"He made me shut young Albert Koestein up in the prison of the +Stadthouse till he knocked under: it was not long. Forty-eight hours, +all alone, on bread and water, cooled his hot stomach. 'Tell my +father I am his humble servant,' says he, 'and let me into the sun +once more—the sun is worth all the wenches in the world.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh the cruelty of men!" sighed Catherine.</p> + +<p>"As to that, the burgomaster has no choice: it is the law. And if +a father says, 'Burgomaster, lock up my son,' he must do it. A +fine thing it would be if a father might not lock up his own son."</p> + +<p>"Well, well! it won't come to that with me and my son. He never +disobeyed me in his life: he never shall. Where is he? It is past +supper-time. Where is he, Kate?"</p> + +<p>"Alas, I know not, father."</p> + +<p>"I know," said Ghysbrecht; "he is at Sevenbergen. My servant +met him on the road."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Supper passed in gloomy silence. Evening descended—no +Gerard: eight o'clock came—no Gerard. Then the father sent all to +bed except Catherine.</p> + +<p>"You and I will walk abroad, wife, and talk over this new care."</p> + +<p>"Abroad, my man, at this time? Whither?"</p> + +<p>"Why on the road to Sevenbergen."</p> + +<p>"Oh no, no hasty words, father. Poor Gerard! he never vexed you +before."</p> + +<p>"Fear me not. But it must end; and I am not one that trusts to-morrow +with to-day's work."</p> + +<p>The old pair walked hand in hand; for strange as it may appear to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +some of my readers, the use of the elbow to couples walking was not +discovered in Europe till centuries after this. They sauntered on +a long time in silence. The night was clear and balmy. Such +nights, calm and silent, recall the past from the dead.</p> + +<p>"It is a many years since we walked so late, my man," said Catherine, +softly.</p> + +<p>"Ay, sweetheart, more than we shall see again (Is he never coming, +I wonder?")</p> + +<p>"Not since our courting days, Eli."</p> + +<p>"No. Ay, you were a buxom lass then."</p> + +<p>"And you were a comely lad, as ever a girl's eye stole a look at. I +do suppose Gerard is with her now, as you used to be with me. Nature +is strong, and the same in all our generations."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I hope he has left her by now, confound her, or we shall be +here all night."</p> + +<p>"Eli!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Kate?"</p> + +<p>"I have been happy with you sweetheart, for all our rubs,—much +happier, I trow, than if I had—been—a—a—nun. You won't speak +harshly to the poor child? One can be firm without being harsh."</p> + +<p>"Surely."</p> + +<p>"Have you been happy with me, my poor Eli?"</p> + +<p>"Why, you know I have. Friends I have known, but none like +thee. Buss me, wife!"</p> + +<p>"A heart to share joy and grief with is a great comfort to man or +woman. Isn't it, Eli?"</p> + +<p>"It is so, my lass."</p> + +<div class='poem'> +'<i>It doth joy double,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">And halveth trouble,'</span></i><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>runs the byword. And so I have found it, sweetheart. Ah! here +comes the young fool."</div> + +<p>Catherine trembled and held her husband's hand tight. The +moon was bright, but they were in the shadow of some trees, and their +son did not see them. He came singing in the moonlight, and his +face shining.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>WHILE the burgomaster was exposing Gerard at Tergou, +Margaret had a trouble of her own at Sevenbergen. It +was a housewife's distress, but deeper than we can well +conceive. She came to Martin Wittenhaagen, the old soldier, with +tears in her eyes.</div> + +<p>"Martin, there's nothing in the house, and Gerard is coming, and +he is so thoughtless. He forgets to sup at home. When he gives +over work then he runs to me straight, poor soul: and often, he comes +quite faint. And to think I have nothing to set before my servant +that loves me so dear."</p> + +<p>Martin scratched his head. "What can I do?"</p> + +<p>"It is Thursday: it is your day to shoot,—sooth to say, I counted on +you to-day."</p> + +<p>"Nay," said the soldier, "I may not shoot when the duke or his +friends are at the chace; read else. I am no scholar." And he took +out of his pouch a parchment with a grand seal. It purported to be +a stipend and a licence given by Philip Duke of Burgundy to Martin +Wittenhaagen, one of his archers, in return for services in the wars, +and for a wound received at the duke's side. The stipend was four +marks yearly to be paid by the Duke's almoner and the licence was to +shoot three arrows once a week, viz., on Thursday, and no other day, +in any of the Duke's forests in Holland, at any game but a seven-year-old +buck or a doe carrying fawn, proviso, that the duke should not be +hunting on that day, or any of his friends. In this case Martin was +not to go and disturb the woods on peril of his salary, and his head, +and a fine of a penny.</p> + +<p>Margaret sighed and was silent.</p> + +<p>"Come, cheer up, mistress," said he, "for your sake I'll peril my +carcass; I have done that for many a one that was not worth your forefinger. +It is no such mighty risk either. I'll but step into the skirts +of the forest, here. It is odds but they drive a hare or a fawn within +reach of my arrow."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I let you go you must promise me not to go far, and not to +be seen; far better Gerard went supperless than ill should come to you, +faithful Martin."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span></p> + +<p>The required promise given, Martin took his bow and three arrows, +and stole cautiously into the wood: it was scarce a furlong distant. +The horns were heard faintly in the distance, and all the game was +afoot. "Come," thought Martin, "I shall soon fill the pot and +no one be the wiser." He took his stand behind a thick oak that +commanded a view of an open glade, and strung his bow, a truly +formidable weapon. It was of English yew, six feet two inches +high, and thick in proportion: and Martin, broad chested, with arms +all iron and cord, and used to the bow from infancy, could draw a +three-foot arrow to the head, and, when it flew, the eye could scarce +follow it, and the bowstring twanged as musical as a harp. +This bow had laid many a stout soldier low in the wars +of the Hoecks and Cabbel-jaws. In those days a battle-field was not +a cloud of smoke; the combatants were few but the deaths many; for +they saw what they were about, and fewer bloodless arrows flew than +bloodless bullets now. A hare came cantering, then sat sprightly, and +her ears made a capital V. Martin levelled his tremendous weapon +at her: the arrow flew, the string twanged: but Martin had been in a +hurry to pot her, and lost her by an inch: the arrow seemed to hit her, +but it struck the ground close to her, and passed under her belly like +a flash, and hissed along the short grass and disappeared. She +jumped three feet perpendicular, and away at the top of her speed. +"Bungler!" said Martin. A sure proof he was not an habitual +bungler, or he would have blamed the hare. He had scarcely fitted +another arrow to his string when a wood-pigeon settled on the very +tree he stood under.</p> + +<p>"Aha!" thought he, "you are small, but dainty." This time he took +more pains; drew his arrow carefully, loosed it smoothly, and saw it, +to all appearance, go clean through the bird, carrying feathers sky-ward +like dust. Instead of falling at his feet, the bird, whose breast +was torn, not fairly pierced, fluttered feebly away, and, by a great +effort rose above the trees, flew some fifty yards, and fell dead at +last; but where, he could not see for the thick foliage.</p> + +<p>"Luck is against me," said he, despondingly. But he fitted another +arrow, and eyed the glade keenly. Presently he heard a bustle behind +him, and turned round just in time to see a noble buck cross the +open, but too late to shoot at him. He dashed his bow down with an +imprecation. At that moment a long, spotted animal glided swiftly +across after the deer; its belly seemed to touch the ground as it went.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> +Martin took up his bow hastily: he recognized the duke's leopard. +"The hunters will not be far from her," said he, "and I must not be +seen. Gerard must go supperless this night."</p> + +<p>He plunged into the wood, following the buck and leopard, for that +was his way home. He had not gone far when he heard an unusual +sound ahead of him—leaves rustling violently, and the ground +trampled. He hurried in the direction. He found the leopard on +the buck's back, tearing him with teeth and claw, and the buck running +in a circle and bounding convulsively, with the blood pouring +down his hide. Then Martin formed a desperate resolution to have +the venison for Margaret. He drew his arrow to the head and buried +it in the deer, who, spite of the creature on his back, bounded high +into the air, and fell dead. The leopard went on tearing him as if +nothing had happened.</p> + +<p>Martin hoped that the creature would gorge itself with blood, and +then let him take the meat. He waited some minutes, then walked +resolutely up, and laid his hand on the buck's leg. The leopard gave +a frightful growl, and left off sucking blood. She saw Martin's +game, and was sulky and on her guard. What was to be done? Martin +had heard that wild creatures cannot stand the human eye. Accordingly +he stood erect and fixed his on the leopard; the leopard returned +a savage glance, and never took her eye off Martin. Then +Martin continuing to look the beast down, the leopard, brutally ignorant +of natural history, flew at his head with a frightful yell, flaming +eyes, and jaws and claws distended. He had but just time to +catch her by the throat, before her teeth could crush his face; one of +her claws seized his shoulder and rent it, the other aimed at his +cheek, would have been more deadly still, but Martin was old fashioned, +and wore no hat, but a scapulary of the same stuff as his +jerkin, and this scapulary he had brought over his head like a hood; +the brute's claw caught in the loose leather. Martin kept her teeth +off his face with great difficulty, and gripped her throat fiercely, and +she kept rending his shoulder. It was like blunt reaping-hooks +grinding and tearing. The pain was fearful: but, instead of cowing +the old soldier, it put his blood up, and he gnashed his teeth with rage +almost as fierce as hers, and squeezed her neck with iron force. The +two pairs of eyes flared at one another—and now the man's were +almost as furious as the brute's. She found he was throttling her, +and made a wild attempt to free herself, in which she dragged his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +cowl all over his face and blinded him, and tore her claw out of his +shoulder, flesh and all: but still he throttled her with hand and arm +of iron. Presently her long tail, that was high in the air, went down. +"Aha!" cried Martin, joyfully, and gripped her like death; next, her +body lost its elasticity, and he held a choked and powerless thing: he +gripped it till all motion ceased, then dashed it to the earth; then, +panting, removed his cowl: the leopard lay mute at his feet with +tongue protruding and bloody paw; and for the first time terror fell +on Martin. "I am a dead man: I have slain the duke's leopard." He +hastily seized a few handfuls of leaves and threw them over her; then +shouldered the buck and staggered away, leaving a trail of blood all +the way—his own and the buck's. He burst into Peter's house a +horrible figure, bleeding and blood-stained, and flung the deer's carcass +down.</p> + +<p>"There, no questions," said he, "but broil me a steak on't; for I am +faint."</p> + +<p>Margaret did not see he was wounded: she thought the blood was +all from the deer.</p> + +<p>She busied herself at the fire, and the stout soldier stanched and +bound his own wound apart, and soon he and Gerard and Margaret +were supping royally on broiled venison.</p> + +<p>They were very merry; and Gerard, with wonderful thoughtfulness, +had brought a flask of Schiedam, and under its influence Martin revived, +and told them how the venison was got; and they all made +merry over the exploit.</p> + +<p>Their mirth was strangely interrupted. Margaret's eye became +fixed and fascinated, and her cheek pale with fear. She gasped, and +could not speak, but pointed to the window with trembling finger. +Their eyes followed hers, and there in the twilight crouched a dark +form with eyes like glowworms.</p> + +<p>It was the leopard.</p> + +<p>While they stood petrified, fascinated by the eyes of green fire, +there sounded in the wood a single deep bay. Martin trembled at it.</p> + +<p>"They have lost her, and laid muzzled bloodhounds on her scent. +They will find her here, and the venison. Good-bye, friends, Martin +Wittenhaagen ends here."</p> + +<p>Gerard seized his bow, and put it into the soldier's hands.</p> + +<p>"Be a man," he cried, "shoot her, and fling her into the wood ere +they come up. Who will know?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p>More voices of hounds broke out, and nearer.</p> + +<p>"Curse her!" cried Martin. "I spared her once; now she must die, +or I, or both more likely;" and he reared his bow, and drew his arrow +to the head.</p> + +<p>"Nay! nay!" cried Margaret, and seized the arrow: it broke in +half: the pieces fell on each side of the bow. The air at the same +time filled with the tongues of the hound: they were hot upon the +scent.</p> + +<p>"What have you done, wench? You have put the halter round my +throat."</p> + +<p>"No!" cried Margaret. "I have saved you: stand back from the +window, both! Your knife quick!"</p> + +<p>She seized his long-pointed knife, almost tore it out of his girdle, +and darted from the room. The house was now surrounded with +baying dogs and shouting men.</p> + +<p>The glowworm eyes moved not.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>MARGARET cut off a huge piece of venison, and ran to the +window, and threw it out to the green eyes of fire. They +darted on it with a savage snarl: and there was a sound +of rending and crunching: at this moment, a hound uttered a bay so +near and loud it rang through the house; and the three at the window +shrank together. Then the leopard feared for her supper, and +glided swiftly and stealthily away with it toward the woods, and the +very next moment horses and men and dogs came helter skelter past +the window, and followed her full cry. Martin and his companions +breathed again: the leopard was swift, and would not be caught within +a league of their house. They grasped hands. Margaret seized +this opportunity, and cried a little: Gerard kissed the tears away.</div> + +<p>To table once more and Gerard drank to woman's wit: "'Tis +stronger than man's force," said he.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said Margaret, "when those she loves are in danger; not +else."</p> + +<p>To-night Gerard stayed with her longer than usual, and went +home prouder than ever of her, and happy as a prince. Some little<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +distance from home, under the shadow of some trees, he encountered +two figures: they almost barred his way.</p> + +<p>It was his father and mother.</p> + +<p>Out so late: what could be the cause?</p> + +<p>A chill fell on him.</p> + +<p>He stopped and looked at them: they stood grim and silent. He +stammered out some words of inquiry:</p> + +<p>"Why ask?" said his father; "you know why we are here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerard!" said his mother, with a voice full of reproach and +yet of affection.</p> + +<p>Gerard's heart quaked: he was silent.</p> + +<p>Then his father pitied his confusion, and said to him:</p> + +<p>"Nay, you need not to hang your head. You are not the first +young fool that has been caught by a red cheek, and a pair of blue +eyes."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay!" put in Catherine: "it was witchcraft. Peter the +Magician is well known for that."</p> + +<p>"Come, Sir Priest," resumed his father, "you know you must +not meddle with women-folk. But give us your promise to go no +more to Sevenbergen, and here all ends: we won't be hard on you +for one fault."</p> + +<p>"I cannot promise that, father."</p> + +<p>"Not promise it, you young hypocrite."</p> + +<p>"Nay, father, miscall me not: I lacked courage to tell you what +I knew would vex you: and right grateful am I to that good friend, +whoever he be, that has let you wot. 'Tis a load off my mind. +Yes, father, I love Margaret: and call me not a priest, for a priest +I will never be. I will die sooner."</p> + +<p>"That we shall see, young man. Come, gainsay me no more; +you will learn what 'tis to disrespect a father."</p> + +<p>Gerard held his peace: and the three walked home in gloomy +silence, broken only by a deep sigh or two from Catherine.</p> + +<p>From that hour the little house at Tergou was no longer the +abode of peace. Gerard was taken to task next day before the +whole family; and every voice was loud against him, except little +Kate's, and the dwarf's, who was apt to take his cue from her +without knowing why. As for Cornelis and Sybrandt, they were +bitterer than their father. Gerard was dismayed at finding so +many enemies, and looked wistfully into his little sister's face:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +her eyes were brimming at the harsh words showered on one who +but yesterday was the universal pet. But she gave him no encouragement: +she turned her head away from him, and said:</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear Gerard, pray to Heaven to cure you of this folly!"</p> + +<p>"What, are you against me too?" said Gerard, sadly; and he rose +with a deep sigh, and left the house, and went to Sevenbergen.</p> + +<p>The beginning of a quarrel, where the parties are bound by affection +though opposed in interest and sentiment, is comparatively +innocent; both are perhaps in the right at first starting, and then +it is that a calm, judicious, friend, capable of seeing both sides, is a +gift from Heaven. For, the longer the dissension endures, the +wider and deeper it grows by the fallibility and irascibility of human +nature: these are not confined to either side, and finally the invariable +end is reached—both in the wrong.</p> + +<p>The combatants were unequally matched: Elias was angry, +Cornelis and Sybrandt spiteful; but Gerard, having a larger and +more cultivated mind, saw both sides where they saw but one, and +had fits of irresolution, and was not wrath, but unhappy. He was +lonely too in this struggle. He could open his heart to no one. +Margaret was a high-spirited girl: he dared not tell her what he +had to endure at home; she was capable of siding with his relations +by resigning him, though at the cost of her own happiness. Margaret +Van Eyck had been a great comfort to him on another occasion; but +now he dared not make her his confidante. Her own history was +well known. In early life she had many offers of marriage; but refused +them all for the sake of that art, to which a wife's and mother's +duties are so fatal: thus she remained single and painted with her +brothers. How could he tell her that he declined the benefice she +had got him, and declined it for the sake of that, which at his +age she had despised and sacrificed so lightly?</p> + +<p>Gerard at this period bade fair to succumb. But the other side +had a horrible ally in Catherine Senior. This good-hearted but +uneducated woman, could not, like her daughter, act quietly and +firmly: still less could she act upon a plan. She irritated Gerard +at times, and so helped him; for anger is a great sustainer of the +courage: at others, she turned round in a moment and made onslaughts +on her own forces. To take a single instance out of many: +one day they were all at home, Catherine and all, Cornelis said: "Our +Gerard wed Margaret Brandt? Why it is hunger marrying thirst."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And what will it be when you marry?" cried Catherine. "Gerard +can paint, Gerard can write, but what can you do to keep a woman, +ye lazy loon? Nought but wait for your father's shoon. Oh, +we can see why you and Sybrandt would not have the poor boy to +marry. You are afraid he will come to us for a share of our substance. +And say that he does, and say that we give it him, it +isn't yourn we part from, and mayhap never will be."</p> + +<p>On these occasions Gerard smiled slily, and picked up heart: and +temporary confusion fell on Catherine's unfortunate allies. But at +last, after more than six months of irritation, came the climax. +The father told the son before the whole family he had ordered +the burgomaster to imprison him in the Stadthouse rather than +let him marry Margaret. Gerard turned pale with anger at this, +but by a great effort held his peace. His father went on to say, +"And a priest you shall be before the year is out, nilly-willy."</p> + +<p>"Is it so?" cried Gerard. "Then hear me, all. By God and St. +Bavon I swear I will never be a priest while Margaret lives. Since +force is to decide it, and not love and duty, try force, father; but +force shall not serve you, for the day I see the burgomaster come +for me, I leave Tergou for ever, and Holland too, and my father's +house, where it seems I have been valued all these years, not for +myself, but for what is to be got out of me."</p> + +<p>And he flung out of the room white with anger and desperation.</p> + +<p>"There!" cried Catherine, "that comes of driving young folk too +hard. But men are crueller than tigers, even to their own flesh +and blood. Now, Heaven forbid he should ever leave us, married +or single."</p> + +<p>As Gerard came out of the house, his cheeks pale and his heart +panting, he met Reicht Heynes: she had a message for him: Margaret +Van Eyck desired to see him. He found the old lady seated +grim as a judge. She wasted no time in preliminaries, but inquired +coldly why he had not visited her of late: but before he +could answer, she said in a sarcastic tone, "I thought we had been +friends, young sir."</p> + +<p>At this Gerard looked the picture of doubt and consternation.</p> + +<p>"It is because you never told her you were in love," said Reicht +Heynes, pitying his confusion.</p> + +<p>"Silence, wench! Why should he tell us his affairs? We are +not his friends: we have not deserved his confidence."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Alas! my second mother," said Gerard, "I did not dare to tell +you my folly."</p> + +<p>"What folly? It is it folly to love?"</p> + +<p>"I am told so every day of my life."</p> + +<p>"You need not have been afraid to tell my mistress; she is always +kind to true lovers."</p> + +<p>"Madam—Reicht,—I was afraid because I was told—"</p> + +<p>"Well? you were told—?"</p> + +<p>"That in your youth you scorned love, preferring art."</p> + +<p>"I did, boy; and what is the end of it? Behold me here a barren +stock, while the women of my youth have a troop of children at +their side and grandchildren at their knee. I gave up the sweet +joys of wifehood and motherhood for what? for my dear brothers. +They have gone and left me long ago; for my art. It has all but left +me too. I have the knowledge still, but what avails that when the +hand trembles. No, Gerard: I look on you as my son. You are +good, you are handsome, you are a painter, though not like some I +have known. I will not let you throw your youth away as I did mine: +you shall marry this Margaret. I have inquired, and she is a good +daughter. Reicht here is a gossip. She has told me all about it. +But that need not hinder <i>you</i> to tell me."</p> + +<p>Poor Gerard was overjoyed to be permitted to praise Margaret +aloud, and to one who could understand what he loved in her.</p> + +<p>Soon there were two pairs of wet eyes over his story; and when +the poor boy saw that, there were three.</p> + +<p>Women are creatures brimful of courage. Theirs is not exactly +the same quality as manly courage; that would never do, hang it +all; we should have to give up trampling on them. No; it is a +vicarious courage. They never take part in a bull-fight by any +chance; but it is remarked that they sit at one unshaken by those +tremors, and apprehensions for the combatants, to which the male +spectator—feeble-minded wretch!—is subject. Nothing can exceed +the resolution with which they have been known to send forth men +to battle: as some witty dog says, "Les femmes sont très braves avec +le peau d'autrui."</p> + +<p>By this trait Gerard now profited. Margaret and Reicht were +agreed that <i>a man</i> should always take the bull by the horns. Gerard's +only course was to marry Margaret Brandt off-hand; the old people +would come to after a while, the deed once done. Whereas, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +longer this misunderstanding continued on its present footing, the +worse for all parties, especially for Gerard.</p> + +<p>"See how pale and thin they have made him amongst them."</p> + +<p>"Indeed you are, Master Gerard," said Reicht. "It makes a body +sad to see a young man so wasted and worn. Mistress, when I met +him in the street to-day, I had like to have burst out crying: he +was so changed."</p> + +<p>"And I'll be bound the others keep their colour; eh, Reicht? +such as it is."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see no odds in them."</p> + +<p>"Of course not. We painters are no match for boors. We are +glass, they are stone. We can't stand the worry, worry, worry of +little minds; and it is not for the good of mankind we should +be exposed to it. It is hard enough, Heaven knows, to design and +paint a masterpiece, without having gnats and flies stinging us to +death into the bargain."</p> + +<p>Exasperated as Gerard was by his father's threat of violence, he +listened to these friendly voices telling him the prudent course was +rebellion. But though he listened he was not convinced.</p> + +<p>"I do not fear my father's violence," he said, "but I do fear his +anger. When it came to the point he would not imprison me. I +would marry Margaret to-morrow if that was my only fear. No; +he would disown me. I should take Margaret from her father, and +give her a poor husband, who would never thrive, weighed down by +his parent's curse. Madam! I sometimes think if I could but marry +her secretly and then take her away to some country where my +craft is better paid than in this; and after a year or two, when the +storm had blown over, you know, could come back with money in +my purse, and say 'My dear parents, we do not seek your substance, +we but ask you to love us once more as you used, and as we have +never ceased to love you'—but alas! I shall be told these are the +dreams of an inexperienced young man."</p> + +<p>The old lady's eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>"It is no dream, but a piece of wonderful common sense in a boy; +it remains to be seen whether you have spirit to carry out your +own thought. There is a country, Gerard, where certain fortune +awaits you at this moment. Here the arts freeze, but there they +flourish, as they never yet flourished in any age or land."</p> + +<p>"It is Italy!" cried Gerard. "It is Italy!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay, Italy! where painters are honoured like princes, and scribes +are paid three hundred crowns for copying a single manuscript. +Know you not that his Holiness the Pope has written to every +land for skilful scribes to copy the hundreds of precious manuscripts +that are pouring into that favoured land from Constantinople, whence +learning and learned men are driven by the barbarian Turks?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not that; but it has been the dream and hope of +my life to visit Italy, the queen of all the arts; oh, madam. But +the journey, and we are all so poor."</p> + +<p>"Find you the heart to go, I'll find the means. I know where +to lay my hand on ten golden angels: they will take you to Rome; +and the girl with you if she loves you as she ought."</p> + +<p>They sat till midnight over this theme. And, after that day, +Gerard recovered his spirits, and seemed to carry a secret talisman +against all the gibes and the harsh words that flew about his ears +at home.</p> + +<p>Besides the money she procured him for the journey, Margaret +Van Eyck gave him money's worth. Said she, "I will tell you +secrets that I learned from masters that are gone from me, and +have left no fellow behind. Even the Italians know them not; and +what I tell you now in Tergou you shall sell dear in Florence. +Note my brother Jan's pictures: time, which fades all other paintings, +leaves his colours bright as the day they left the easel. The +reason is, he did nothing blindly, nothing in a hurry. He trusted +to no hireling to grind his colours; he did it himself, or saw it +done. His panel was prepared, and prepared again—I will show +you how—a year before he laid his colour on. Most of them are +quite content to have their work sucked up and lost, sooner than +not be in a hurry. Bad painters are always in a hurry. Above +all, Gerard, I warn you use but little oil, and never boil it; boiling it +melts that vegetable dross into its very heart, which it is our business +to clear away; for impure oil is death to colour. No; take +your oil and pour it into a bottle with water. In a day or two, the +water will turn muddy: that is muck from the oil. Pour the dirty +water carefully away, and add fresh. When that is poured away, +you will fancy the oil is clear. You are mistaken. Reicht, fetch +me <i>that!</i>" Reicht brought a glass trough with a glass lid fitting +tight. "When your oil has been washed in bottle, put it into this +trough with water, and put the trough in the sun all day. You<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +will soon see the water turbid again. But mark, you must not carry +this game too far, or the sun will turn your oil to varnish. When +it is as clear as crystal, not too luscious, drain carefully, and cork +it up tight. Grind your own prime colours, and lay them on with +this oil, and they shall live. Hubert would put sand or salt in the +water to clear the oil quicker. But Jan used to say, 'Water will +do it best, give water time.' Jan Van Eyck was never in a hurry, +and that is why the world will not forget <i>him</i> in a hurry."</p> + +<p>This and several other receipts, quæ nunc perscribere longum est, +Margaret gave him with sparkling eyes, and Gerard received them +like a legacy from Heaven, so interesting are some things that read +uninteresting. Thus provided with money and knowledge, Gerard +decided to marry, and fly with his wife to Italy. Nothing remained +now but to inform Margaret Brandt of his resolution, and to publish +the banns as quietly as possible. He went to Sevenbergen earlier +than usual on both these errands. He began with Margaret; told +her of the Dame Van Eyck's goodness, and the resolution he had +come to at last, and invited her co-operation.</p> + +<p>She refused it plump.</p> + +<p>"No, Gerard; you and I have never spoken of your family, but +when you come to marriage—" She stopped, then began again. +"I do think your father has no ill will to me more than to another. +He told Peter Buyskens as much, and Peter told me. But so +long as he is bent on your being a priest (you ought to have told +me this instead of I you), I could not marry you, Gerard, dearly +as I love you."</p> + +<p>Gerard strove in vain to shake this resolution. He found it very +easy to make her cry, but impossible to make her yield. Then +Gerard was impatient and unjust.</p> + +<p>"Very well!" he cried; "then you are on their side, and you will +drive me to be a priest, for this must end one way or another. My +parents hate me in earnest, but my lover only loves me in jest."</p> + +<p>And with this wild, bitter speech, he flung away home again +and left Margaret weeping.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>When a man misbehaves, the effect is curious on a girl who loves +him sincerely. It makes her pity him. This, to some of us males, +seems anything but logical. The fault is in our own eye; the logic +is too swift for us. The girl argues thus:—"How unhappy, how<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +vexed, poor ... must be; <i>him</i> to misbehave! Poor thing!"</p> + +<p>Margaret was full of this sweet womanly pity, when, to her great +surprise, scarce an hour and a half after he left her, Gerard came +running back to her with the fragments of a picture in his hand, +and panting with anger and grief.</p> + +<p>"There Margaret! see! see! the wretches! Look at their spite! +They have cut your portrait to pieces."</p> + +<p>Margaret looked. And, sure enough, some malicious hand had +cut her portrait into five pieces. She was a good girl, but she was +not ice; she turned red to her very forehead.</p> + +<p>"Who did it?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not. I dared not ask; for I should hate the hand +that did it, ay, till my dying day. My poor Margaret! The +butchers, the ruffians. Six months' work cut out of my life, and +nothing to show for it now. See, they have hacked through your +very face; the sweet face that every one loves who knows it. O, heartless, +merciless vipers!"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, Gerard," said Margaret, panting. "Since this is +how they treat you for my sake— Ye rob him of my portrait, do +ye? Well, then he shall have the face itself, such as it is."</p> + +<p>"O, Margaret!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Gerard; since they are so cruel, I will be the kinder: forgive +me for refusing you. I will be your wife: to-morrow, if it is +your pleasure."</p> + +<p>Gerard kissed her hands with rapture and then her lips; and in +a tumult of joy ran for Peter and Martin. They came and witnessed +the betrothal; a solemn ceremony in those days, and indeed for more +than a century later, though now abolished.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE banns of marriage had to be read three times, as in +our days; with this difference, that they were commonly +read on week-days, and the young couple easily persuaded +the curé to do the three readings in twenty-four hours: he was new +to the place, and their looks spoke volumes in their favour. They +were cried on Monday at matins and at vespers; and, to their great +delight, nobody from Tergou was in the church. The next morning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +they were both there palpitating with anxiety, when, to their horror, +a stranger stood up and forbade the banns, on the score that the +parties were not of age, and their parents not consenting.</div> + +<p>Outside the church door, Margaret and Gerard held a trembling +and almost despairing consultation; but, before they could settle +anything, the man who had done them so ill a turn approached, and +gave them to understand that he was very sorry to interfere; that +his inclination was to further the happiness of the young: but that +in point of fact his only means of getting a living was by forbidding +banns: what then? "The young people give me a crown, and +I undo my work handsomely; tell the curé I was misinformed; and +all goes smoothly."</p> + +<p>"A crown? I will give you a golden angel to do this," said Gerard, +eagerly. The man consented as eagerly, and went with Gerard +to the curé, and told him he had made a ridiculous mistake, which +a sight of the parties had rectified. On this the curé agreed to marry +the young couple next day at ten: and the professional obstructor of +bliss went home with Gerard's angel. Like most of these very clever +knaves, he was a fool, and proceeded to drink his angel at a certain +hostelry in Tergou, where was a green devoted to archery and the +common sports of the day. There, being drunk, he bragged of his +day's exploit; and who should be there, imbibing every word, but a +great frequenter of the spot, the ne'er-do-weel Sybrandt. Sybrandt +ran home to tell his father; his father was not at home; he was gone +to Rotterdam to buy cloth of the merchants. Catching his elder +brother's eye, he made him a signal to come out, and told him what +he had heard.</p> + +<p>There are black sheep in nearly every large family: and these two +were Gerard's black brothers. Idleness is vitiating: waiting for the +death of those we ought to love is vitiating: and these two one-idead +curs were ready to tear any one to death who should interfere with +that miserable inheritance, which was their thought by day and their +dream by night. Their parents' parsimony was a virtue; it was +accompanied by industry, and its motive was love of their offspring: +but in these perverse and selfish hearts that homely virtue was perverted +into avarice, than which no more fruitful source of crimes is to +be found in nature.</p> + +<p>They put their heads together, and agreed not to tell their mother, +whose sentiments were so uncertain, but to go first to the burgomaster.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +They were cunning enough to see that he was averse to +the match, though they could not divine why.</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht Van Swieten saw through them at once; but he took +care not to let them see through him. He heard their story; and +putting on magisterial dignity and coldness, he said:</p> + +<p>"Since the father of the family is not here, his duty falleth on me, +who am the father of the town. I know your father's mind; leave +all to me: and above all, tell not a woman a word of this, least of +all the women that are in your own house: for chattering tongues +mar wisest counsels."</p> + +<p>So he dismissed them a little superciliously: he was ashamed of +his confederates.</p> + +<p>On their return home they found their brother Gerard seated on a +low stool at their mother's knee: she was caressing his hair with +her hand, speaking very kindly to him, and promising to take his +part with his father and thwart his love no more. The main cause +of this change of mind was characteristic of the woman. She it was +who in a moment of female irritation had cut Margaret's picture to +pieces. She had watched the effect with some misgivings, and had +seen Gerard turn pale as death, and sit motionless like a bereaved +creature, with the pieces in his hands, and his eyes fixed on them +till tears came and blinded them. Then she was terrified at what +she had done; and next her heart smote her bitterly; and she wept +sore apart: but, being what she was, dared not own it, but said to +herself, "I'll not say a word, but I'll make it up to him." And her +bowels yearned over her son, and her feeble violence died a natural +death, and she was transferring her fatal alliance to Gerard when +the two black sheep came in. Gerard knew nothing of the +immediate cause; on the contrary, inexperienced as he was in the +ins and outs of females, her kindness made him ashamed of a suspicion +he had entertained that she was the depredator; and he kissed +her again and again, and went to bed happy as a prince to think his +mother was his mother once more at the very crisis of his fate.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The next morning, at ten o'clock, Gerard and Margaret were in +the church at Sevenbergen, he radiant with joy, she with blushes. +Peter was also there, and Martin Wittenhaagen, but no other friend. +Secrecy was everything. Margaret had declined Italy. She could +not leave her father; he was too learned and too helpless. But it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +was settled they should retire into Flanders for a few weeks until the +storm should be blown over at Tergou. The curé did not keep them +waiting long, though it seemed an age. Presently he stood at the +altar, and called them to him. They went hand in hand, the +happiest in Holland. The curé opened his book.</p> + +<p>But ere he uttered a single word of the sacred rite, a harsh voice +cried "Forbear!" And the constables of Tergou came up the aisle +and seized Gerard in the name of the law. Martin's long knife +flashed out directly.</p> + +<p>"Forbear, man!" cried the priest, "What! draw your weapon +in a church, and ye who interrupt this holy sacrament, what means +this impiety?"</p> + +<p>"There is no impiety," said the burgomaster's servant respectfully. +"This young man would marry against his father's will, +and his father has prayed our burgomaster to deal with him according +to the law. Let him deny it if he can."</p> + +<p>"Is this so, young man?"</p> + +<p>Gerard hung his head.</p> + +<p>"We take him to Rotterdam to abide the sentence of the duke."</p> + +<p>At this Margaret uttered a cry of despair, and the young creatures, +who were so happy a moment ago, fell to sobbing in one another's arms +so piteously, that the instruments of oppression drew back a step, +and were ashamed; but one of them that was good-natured stepped +up under pretence of separating them, and whispered to Margaret:</p> + +<p>"Rotterdam? it is a lie. We but take him to our Stadthouse."</p> + +<p>They took him away on horseback, on the road to Rotterdam; and, +after a dozen halts, and by sly detours, to Tergou. Just outside +the town they were met by a rude vehicle covered with canvas. +Gerard was put into this, and about five in the evening was secretly +conveyed into the prison of the Stadthouse. He was taken up several +flights of stairs and thrust into a small room lighted only by +a narrow window, with a vertical iron bar. The whole furniture +was a huge oak chest.</p> + +<p>Imprisonment in that age was one of the highroads to death. It is +horrible in its mildest form; but in those days it implied cold, unbroken +solitude, torture, starvation, and often poison. Gerard felt +he was in the hands of an enemy.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the look that man gave me on the road to Rotterdam. There +is more here than my father's wrath. I doubt I shall see no more<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +the light of day." And he kneeled down and commended his soul +to God.</p> + +<p>Presently he rose and sprang at the iron bar of the window and +clutched it. This enabled him to look out by pressing his knees +against the wall. It was but for a minute; but in that minute, he +saw a sight such as none but a captive can appreciate.</p> + +<p>Martin Wittenhaagen's back.</p> + +<p>Martin was sitting, quietly fishing in the brook near the Stadthouse.</p> + +<p>Gerard sprang again at the window, and whistled. Martin instantly +showed that he was watching much harder than fishing. He +turned hastily round and saw Gerard;—made him a signal, and +taking up his line and bow went quickly off.</p> + +<p>Gerard saw by this that his friends were not idle: yet he had +rather Martin had stayed. The very sight of him was a comfort. +He held on, looking at the soldier's retiring form as long as he +could, then falling back somewhat heavily, wrenched the rusty iron +bar, held only by rusty nails, away from the stone-work just as +Ghysbrecht Van Swieten opened the door stealthily behind him. +The burgomaster's eye fell instantly on the iron, and then glanced +at the window; but he said nothing. The window was a hundred feet +from the ground; and if Gerard had a fancy for jumping out, why +should he balk it? He brought a brown loaf and a pitcher of water, +and set them on the chest in solemn silence. Gerard's first impulse +was to brain him with the iron bar, and fly down the stairs; but +the burgomaster seeing something wicked in his eye, gave a little +cough, and three stout fellows, armed, showed themselves directly +at the door.</p> + +<p>"My orders are to keep you thus until you shall bind yourself by +an oath to leave Margaret Brandt, and return to the Church to +which you have belonged from your cradle."</p> + +<p>"Death sooner."</p> + +<p>"With all my heart." And the burgomaster retired.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Martin went with all speed to Sevenbergen; there he found +Margaret pale and agitated, but full of resolution and energy. She +was just finishing a letter to the Countess Charolois, appealing to +her against the violence and treachery of Ghysbrecht.</p> + +<p>"Courage!" cried Martin on entering. "I have found him. He is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +in the haunted tower; right at the top of it. Ay! I know the place: +many a poor fellow has gone up there straight, and come down feet +foremost."</p> + +<p>He then told them how he had looked up and seen Gerard's face +at a window that was like a slit in the wall.</p> + +<p>"Oh Martin! how did he look?"</p> + +<p>"What mean you? He looked like Gerard Eliassoen."</p> + +<p>"But was he pale?"</p> + +<p>"A little."</p> + +<p>"Looked he anxious? Looked he like one doomed?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; as bright as a pewter pot."</p> + +<p>"You mock me. Stay! then that must have been at sight of +you. He counts on us. Oh! what shall we do? Martin, good +friend, take this at once to Rotterdam."</p> + +<p>Martin held out his hand for the letter.</p> + +<p>Peter had sat silent all this time, but pondering, and yet contrary +to custom, keenly attentive to what was going on around him.</p> + +<p>"Put not your trust in princes," said he.</p> + +<p>"Alas! what else have we to trust in?"</p> + +<p>"Knowledge."</p> + +<p>"Well-a-day, father! your learning will not serve us here."</p> + +<p>"How know you that? Wit has been too strong for iron bars +ere to-day."</p> + +<p>"Ay, father; but nature is stronger than wit, and she is against +us. Think of the height! No ladder in Holland might reach him."</p> + +<p>"I need no ladder; what I need is a gold crown."</p> + +<p>"Nay. I have money for that matter. I have nine angels. Gerard +gave them me to keep; but what do they avail? The burgomaster +will not be bribed to let Gerard free."</p> + +<p>"What do they avail? Give me but one crown, and the young +man shall sup with us this night."</p> + +<p>Peter spoke so eagerly and confidently, that for a moment Margaret +felt hopeful; but she caught Martin's eye dwelling upon him +with an expression of benevolent contempt.</p> + +<p>"It passes the powers of man's invention," said she, with a deep +sigh.</p> + +<p>"Invention?" cried the old man. "A fig for invention. What +need we invention at this time of day? Everything has been +said that is to be said and done that ever will be done. I shall tell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +you how a Florentine knight was shut up in a tower higher than +Gerard's: yet did his faithful squire stand at the tower foot and +get him out, with no other engine than that in your hand, Martin, +and certain kickshaws I shall buy for a crown."</p> + +<p>Martin looked at his bow, and turned it round in his hand; and +seemed to interrogate it. But the examination left him as incredulous +as before.</p> + +<p>Then Peter told them his story, how the faithful squire got +the knight out of a high tower at Brescia. The manœuvre, like +most things that are really scientific, was so simple, that now their +wonder was they had taken for impossible what was not even +difficult.</p> + +<p>The letter never went to Rotterdam. They trusted to Peter's +learning and their own dexterity.</p> + +<p>It was nine o'clock on a clear moonlight night; Gerard, senior, +was still away; the rest of his little family had been sometime abed.</p> + +<p>A figure stood by the dwarf's bed. It was white, and the moonlight +shone on it.</p> + +<p>With an unearthly noise, between a yell and a snarl, the gymnast +rolled off his bed and under it by a single unbroken movement. A +soft voice followed him in his retreat.</p> + +<p>"Why, Giles, are you afeard of me?"</p> + +<p>At this, Giles's head peeped cautiously up, and he saw it was only +his sister Kate.</p> + +<p>She put her finger to her lips. "Hush! lest the wicked Cornelis +or the wicked Sybrandt hear us." Giles's claws seized the side of +the bed, and he returned to his place by one undivided gymnastic.</p> + +<p>Kate then revealed to Giles that she had heard Cornelis and +Sybrandt mention Gerard's name; and being herself in great anxiety +at his not coming home all day, had listened at their door, +and had made a fearful discovery. Gerard was in prison, in the +haunted tower of the Stadthouse. He was there it seemed by their +father's authority. But here must be some treachery; for how could +their father have ordered this cruel act? he was at Rotterdam. She +ended by entreating Giles to bear her company to the foot of the +haunted tower, to say a word of comfort to poor Gerard, and let him +know their father was absent, and would be sure to release him on his +return.</p> + +<p>"Dear Giles, I would go alone, but I am afeard of the spirits<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +that men say do haunt the tower: but with you I shall not be afeard."</p> + +<p>"Nor I with you," said Giles. "I don't believe there are any +spirits in Tergou. I never saw one. This last was the likest one +ever I saw; and it was but you, Kate, after all."</p> + +<p>In less than half an hour Giles and Kate opened the house door +cautiously and issued forth. She made him carry a lantern though +the night was bright. "The lantern gives me more courage against +the evil spirits," said she.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The first day of imprisonment is very trying, especially if to +the horror of captivity is added the horror of utter solitude. I observe +that in our own day a great many persons commit suicide +during the first twenty-four hours of the solitary cell. This is +doubtless why our Jairi abstain so carefully from the impertinence +of watching their little experiment upon the human soul at that +particular stage of it.</p> + +<p>As the sun declined, Gerard's heart too sank and sank: with the +waning light even the embers of hope went out. He was faint, too, +with hunger; for he was afraid to eat the food Ghysbrecht had +brought him; and hunger alone cows men. He sat upon the chest, +his arms and his head drooping before him, a picture of despondency. +Suddenly something struck the wall beyond him very sharply, +and then rattled on the floor at his feet. It was an arrow; he saw the +white feather. A chill ran through him—they meant then to assassinate +him from the outside. He crouched. No more missiles came. +He crawled on all fours, and took up the arrow: there was no +head to it. He uttered a cry of hope: had a friendly hand shot it? +He took it up, and felt it all over: he found a soft substance attached +to it. Then one of his eccentricities was of grand use to him. His +tinder-box enabled him to strike a light: it showed him two things +that made his heart bound with delight, none the less thrilling for +being somewhat vague. Attached to the arrow was a skein of silk; +and on the arrow itself were words written.</p> + +<p>How his eyes devoured them, his heart panting the while!</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Well beloved, make fast the silk to thy knife and lower to us: but hold +thine end fast: then count an hundred and draw up.</p></div> +<div class="figright" style="width: 407px;"> +<img src="images/illus087.jpg" width="407" height="600" alt="NOT MORE THAN THIRTY FEET BELOW HIM WERE MARGARET AND MARTIN" title="" /> +<span class="caption">NOT MORE THAN THIRTY FEET BELOW HIM WERE MARGARET AND MARTIN</span> +</div> +<p>Gerard seized the oak chest and with almost superhuman energy +dragged it to the window: a moment ago he could not have moved it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +Standing on the chest and looking down he saw figures at the tower +foot. They were so indistinct they looked like one huge form. +He waved his bonnet to them with trembling hand: then he undid the +silk rapidly but carefully, and made one end fast to his knife and +lowered it till it ceased to draw. Then he counted a hundred. Then +pulled the silk carefully up: it came up a little heavier. At last +he came to a large knot, and by that knot a stout whipcord was attached +to the silk. What could this mean? While he was puzzling +himself, Margaret's voice came up to him, low but clear. "Draw up, +Gerard, till you see Liberty." At the word Gerard drew the whipcord +line up, and drew and drew till he came to another knot, and +found a cord of some thickness take the place of the whipcord. +He had no sooner begun to draw this up than he found that he had +now a heavy weight to deal with. Then the truth suddenly flashed +on him, and he went to work and pulled and pulled till the perspiration +rolled down him: the weight got heavier and heavier, and at +last he was well nigh exhausted; looking down he saw in the moonlight +a sight that revived him: it was as it were a great snake coming +up to him out of the deep shadow cast by the tower. He gave a shout +of joy, and a score more wild pulls, and lo! a stout new rope touched +his hand: he hauled and hauled, and dragged the end into his prison +and instantly passed it through both handles of the chest in succession, +and knotted it firmly; then sat for moment to recover his breath +and collect his courage. The first thing was to make sure that +the chest was sound, and capable of resisting his weight poised in +mid air. He jumped with all his force upon it. At the third +jump the whole side burst open, and out scuttled the contents, a host +of parchments.</p> + + + +<p>After the first start and misgiving this gave him, Gerard comprehended +that the chest had not burst but opened: he had doubtless +jumped upon some secret spring. Still it shook in some degree +his confidence in the chest's powers of resistance; so he gave it an +ally: he took the iron bar and fastened it with the small rope across +the large rope, and across the window. He now mounted the chest, +and from the chest put his foot through the window, and sat half +in and half out, with one hand on that part of the rope which was +inside. In the silent night he heard his own heart beat.</p> + +<p>The free air breathed on his face, and gave him the courage to +risk what we must all lose one day—for liberty. Many dangers<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +awaited him, but the greatest was the first getting on to the rope +outside. Gerard reflected. Finally he put himself in the attitude of +a swimmer, his body to the waist being in the prison, his legs outside. +Then holding the inside rope with both hands, he felt anxiously +with his feet for the outside rope, and when he had got it, +he worked it in between the palms of his feet, and kept it there +tight: then he uttered a short prayer, and all the calmer for it, put +his left hand on the sill and gradually wriggled out. Then he +seized the iron bar, and for one fearful moment hung outside from +it by his right hand, while his left hand felt for the rope down at +his knees; it was too tight against the wall for his fingers to get +round it higher up. The moment he had fairly grasped it, he left +the bar, and swiftly seized the rope with the right hand too; but +in this manœuvre his body necessarily fell about a yard. A stifled +cry came up from below. Gerard hung in mid air. He clenched his +teeth and nipped the rope tight with his feet and gripped it with +his hands, and went down slowly hand below hand. He passed by +one huge rough stone after another. He saw there was green moss +on one. He looked up and he looked down. The moon shone into +his prison window: it seemed very near. The fluttering figures +below seemed an awful distance. It made him dizzy to look down: +so he fixed his eyes steadily on the wall close to him, and went +slowly down, down, down.</p> + +<p>He passed a rusty, slimy, streak on the wall: it was some ten +feet long. The rope made his hands very hot. He stole another +look up.</p> + +<p>The prison window was a good way off, now.</p> + +<p>Down—down—down—down.</p> + +<p>The rope made his hands sore.</p> + +<p>He looked up. The window was so distant, he ventured now to +turn his eyes downward again: and there, not more than thirty feet +below him were Margaret and Martin, their faithful hands upstretched +to catch him should he fall. He could see their eyes and +their teeth shine in the moon light. For their mouths were open, +and they were breathing hard.</p> + +<p>"Take care, Gerard! Oh take care! Look not down."</p> + +<p>"Fear me not," cried Gerard, joyfully, and eyed the wall, but +came down faster.</p> + +<p>In another moment his feet were at their hands. They seized<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> +him ere he touched the ground, and all three clung together in one +embrace.</p> + +<p>"Hush! away in silence, dear one."</p> + +<p>They stole along the shadow of the wall.</p> + +<p>Now, ere they had gone many yards, suddenly a stream of light shot +from an angle of the building, and lay across their path like a +barrier of fire, and they heard whispers and footsteps close at hand.</p> + +<p>"Back!" hissed Martin. "Keep in the shade."</p> + +<p>They hurried back, passed the dangling rope, and made for a little +square projecting tower. They had barely rounded it when the +light shot trembling past them, and flickered uncertainly into the +distance.</p> + +<p>"A lantern!" groaned Martin, in a whisper. "They are after +us."</p> + +<p>"Give me my knife," whispered Gerard. "I'll never be taken +alive."</p> + +<p>"No, no!" murmured Margaret: "is there no way out where +we are?"</p> + +<p>"None, none. But I carry six lives at my shoulder:" and, +with the word, Martin strung his bow, and fitted an arrow to the +string: "in war never wait to be struck: I will kill one or two ere +they shall know where their death comes from:" then motioning his +companions to be quiet, he began to draw his bow, and, ere the +arrow was quite drawn to the head, he glided round the corner +ready to loose the string the moment the enemy should offer a mark.</p> + +<p>Gerard and Margaret held their breath in horrible expectation: +they had never seen a human being killed.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>And now a wild hope, but half repressed, thrilled through Gerard, +that this watchful enemy might be the burgomaster in person. +The soldier, he knew, would send an arrow through a burgher or +burgomaster as he would through a boar in a wood.</p> + +<p>But who may foretell the future, however near? The bow, instead +of remaining firm, and loosing the deadly shaft, was seen to waver +first, then shake violently, and the stout soldier staggered back to +them, his knees knocking and his cheeks blanched with fear. He +let his arrow fall, and clutched Gerard's shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Let me feel flesh and blood," he gasped; "the haunted tower! the +haunted tower!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> + +<p>His terror communicated itself to Margaret and Gerard. They +gasped, rather than uttered, an inquiry.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" he cried, "it will hear you. <i>Up</i> the wall! it is going +<i>up</i> the wall! Its head is on fire. <i>Up</i> the wall, as mortal creatures +walk upon green sward. If you know a prayer say it! For hell +is loose to-night."</p> + +<p>"I have power to exorcise spirits," said Gerard, trembling. "I +will venture forth."</p> + +<p>"Go alone, then!" said Martin. "I have looked on't once and +live."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE strange glance of hatred the burgomaster had cast on +Gerard, coupled with his imprisonment, had filled the +young man with a persuasion that Ghysbrecht was his +enemy to the death: and he glided round the angle of the tower, +fully expecting to see no supernatural appearance, but some cruel and +treacherous contrivance of a bad man to do him mischief in that +prison, his escape from which could hardly be known.</div> + +<p>As he stole forth, a soft but brave hand crept into his, and Margaret +was by his side to share this new peril.</p> + +<p>No sooner was the haunted tower visible, than a sight struck +their eyes that benumbed them as they stood. More than half way up +the tower, a creature with a fiery head, like an enormous glowworm, +was steadily mounting the wall: the body was dark, but its outline +visible through the glare from the head, and the whole creature not +much less than four feet long.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the tower stood a thing in white, that looked exactly +like the figure of a female. Gerard and Margaret palpitated +with awe.</p> + +<p>"The rope, the rope! It is going up the rope," gasped Gerard.</p> + +<p>As they gazed, the glowworm disappeared in Gerard's late prison, +but its light illuminated the cell inside and reddened the window. +The white figure stood motionless below.</p> + +<p>Such as can retain their senses after the first prostrating effect +of the supernatural, are apt to experience terror in one of its +strangest forms, a wild desire to fling themselves upon the terrible<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +object. It fascinates them as the snake the bird. The great tragedian +Macready used to render this finely in Macbeth at Banquo's +second appearance. He flung himself with averted head at the horrible +shadow. This strange impulse now seized Margaret. She put +down Gerard's hand quietly, and stood bewildered; then, all in a +moment, with a wild cry, darted towards the spectre. Gerard, not +aware of the natural impulse I have spoken of, never doubted +the evil one was drawing her to her perdition. He fell on his +knees.</p> + +<p>"Exorcizo vos. In nomine beatæ Mariæ, exorcizo vos."</p> + +<p>While the exorcist was shrieking his incantations in extremity of +terror, to his infinite relief he heard the spectre utter a feeble cry +of fear. To find that hell had also its little weaknesses was encouraging. +He redoubled his exorcisms and presently he saw the +ghastly shape kneeling at Margaret's knees and heard it praying +piteously for mercy.</p> + +<p>Kate and Giles soon reached the haunted tower. Judge their surprise +when they found a new rope dangling from the prisoner's +window to the ground.</p> + +<p>"I see how it is," said the inferior intelligence, taking facts as +they came. "Our Gerard has come down this rope. He has got +clear. Up I go, and see."</p> + +<p>"No, Giles, no!" said the superior intelligence, blinded by prejudice. +"See you not this is glamour? This rope is a line the evil +one casts out to wile thee to destruction. He knows the weaknesses +of all our hearts; he has seen how fond you are of going up things. +Where should our Gerard procure a rope? how fasten it in the sky +like this? It is not in nature. Holy saints protect us this night, +for hell is abroad."</p> + +<p>"Stuff!" said the dwarf: "the way to hell is down, and this rope +leads up. I never had the luck to go up such a long rope. It may +be years ere I fall in with such a long rope all ready hung for me. +As well be knocked on the head at once as never know happiness."</p> + +<p>And he sprung on to the rope with a cry of delight, as a cat jumps +with a mew on to a table where fish is. All the gymnast was on fire; +and the only concession Kate could gain from him was permission +to fasten the lantern on his neck first.</p> + +<p>"A light scares the ill spirits," said she.</p> + +<p>And so, with his huge arms and his legs like feathers, Giles went<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +up the rope faster than his brother came down it. The light at the +nape of his neck made a glowworm of him. His sister watched his +progress with trembling anxiety. Suddenly a female figure started +out of the solid masonry, and came flying at her with more than +mortal velocity.</p> + +<p>Kate uttered a feeble cry. It was all she could, for her +tongue clove to her palate with terror. Then she dropped her +crutches, and sank upon her knees, hiding her face and +moaning:</p> + +<p>"Take my body, but spare my soul!"</p> + +<p><i>Margaret</i> (panting). "Why it is a woman."</p> + +<p><i>Kate</i> (quivering). "Why it is a woman."</p> + +<p><i>Margaret.</i> "How you scared me."</p> + +<p><i>Kate.</i> "I am scared enough myself. Oh! oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>"This is strange. But the fiery-headed thing? Yet it was with +you, and you are harmless. But why are you here at this time of +night?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, why are <span class="smcap">you</span>?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps we are on the same errand? Ah you are his <i>good</i> sister, +Kate."</p> + +<p>"And you are Margaret Brandt."</p> + +<p>"Yea."</p> + +<p>"All the better. You love him: you are here. Then Giles was +right. He has won free."</p> + +<p>Gerard came forward, and put the question at rest. But all further +explanation was cut short by a horrible, unearthly noise, like a +sepulchre ventriloquizing.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Parchment!—parchment!—parchment!</span>"</p> + +<p>At each repetition it rose in intensity. They looked up, and there +was the dwarf, with his hands full of parchments, and his face, lighted +with fiendish joy, and lurid with diabolical fire. The light being +at his neck, a more infernal "transparency" never startled mortal eye. +With the word the awful imp hurled parchment at the astonished +heads below. Down came records, like wounded wild ducks, some collapsed, +others fluttering and others spread out and wheeling slowly +down in airy circles. They had hardly settled when again the +sepulchral roar was heard: "Parchment:—Parchment!" and down +pattered and sailed another flock of documents: another followed: they +whitened the grass. Finally the fire-headed imp with his light body<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +and horny hands slid down the rope like a falling star and (business +before sentiment) proposed to his rescued brother an immediate settlement +for the merchandise he had just delivered.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Gerard; "you speak too loud. Gather them up and +follow us to a safer place than this."</p> + +<p>"Will you not come home with me, Gerard?" said little Kate.</p> + +<p>"I have no home."</p> + +<p>"You shall not say so. Who is more welcome than you will be, +after this cruel wrong, to your father's house?"</p> + +<p>"Father? I have no father," said Gerard sternly. "He that was +my father is turned my gaoler. I have escaped from his hands; I +will never come within their reach again."</p> + +<p>"An enemy did this and not our father."</p> + +<p>And she told him what she had overheard Cornelis and Sybrandt +say. But the injury was too recent to be soothed. Gerard showed +a bitterness of indignation he had hitherto seemed incapable of.</p> + +<p>"Cornelis and Sybrandt are two curs that have shown me their +teeth and their heart a long while; but they could do no more. My +father it is that gave the burgomaster authority, or he durst not have +laid a finger on me, that am a free burgher of this town. So be it, +then. I was his son. I am his prisoner. He has played his part. +I shall play mine. Farewell the burgh where I was born and lived +honestly, and was put in prison. While there is another town left +in creation, I'll never trouble you again, Tergou."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerard! Gerard!"</p> + +<p>Margaret whispered her:—"Do not gainsay him now. Give his +choler time to cool!"</p> + +<p>Kate turned quickly towards her. "Let me look at your face!" +The inspection was favourable, it seemed, for she whispered:—"It is +a comely face, and no mischief-maker's."</p> + +<p>"Fear me not," said Margaret, in the same tone. "I could not be +happy without your love as well as Gerard's."</p> + +<p>"These are comfortable words," sobbed Kate. Then, looking up, +she said, "I little thought to like you so well. My heart is willing, +but my infirmity will not let me embrace you."</p> + +<p>At this hint, Margaret wound gently round Gerard's sister, and +kissed her lovingly.</p> + +<p>"Often he has spoken of you to me, Kate, and often I longed for +this."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You, too, Gerard," said Kate, "kiss me ere you go, for my heart +lies heavy at parting with you this night."</p> + +<p>Gerard kissed her, and she went on her crutches home. The last +thing they heard of her was a little patient sigh. Then the tears came +and stood thick in Margaret's eyes; but Gerard was a man, and +noticed not his sister's sigh.</p> + +<p>As they turned to go to Sevenbergen, the dwarf nudged Gerard with +his bundle of parchments, and held out a concave claw.</p> + +<p>Margaret dissuaded Gerard. "Why take what is not ours?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! spoil an enemy how you can."</p> + +<p>"But may they not make this a handle for fresh violence?"</p> + +<p>"How can they? Think you I shall stay in Tergou after this? +The burgomaster robbed me of my liberty; I doubt I should take his +life for it if I could."</p> + +<p>"Oh fie, Gerard!"</p> + +<p>"What? Is life worth more than liberty. Well I can't take his +life, so I take the first thing that comes to hand."</p> + +<p>He gave Giles a few small coins, with which the urchin was gladdened, +and shuffled after his sister. Margaret and Gerard were +speedily joined by Martin, and away to Sevenbergen.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GHYSBRECHT VAN SWIETEN kept the key of Gerard's +prison in his pouch. He waited till ten of the clock ere he +visited him; for he said to himself, "A little hunger sometimes +does well; it breaks 'em." At ten he crept up the stairs with +a loaf and pitcher, followed by his trusty servant well armed. +Ghysbrecht listened at the door. There was no sound inside. A +grim smile stole over his features. "By this time he will be as down-hearted +as Albert Koestein was," thought he. He opened the door.</div> + +<p>No Gerard.</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht stood stupefied.</p> + +<p>Although his face was not visible, his body seemed to lose all motion +in so peculiar a way, and then after a little he fell a trembling +so, that the servant behind him saw there was something amiss, and +crept close to him and peeped over his shoulder. At sight of the +empty cell and the rope, and iron bar, he uttered a loud exclamation<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +of wonder: but his surprise doubled when his master, disregarding +all else suddenly flung himself on his knees before the empty chest, +and felt wildly all over it with quivering hands, as if unwilling to +trust his eyes in a matter so important.</p> + +<p>The servant gazed at him in utter bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"Why, master, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht's pale lips worked as if he was going to answer; but +they uttered no sound: his hands fell by his side, and he stared into +the chest.</p> + +<p>"Why, master, what avails glaring into that empty box? The lad +is not there. See here! Note the cunning of the young rogue; he +hath taken out the bar, and—"</p> + +<p>"GONE! GONE! GONE!"</p> + +<p>"Gone? What is gone? Holy saints! he is planet struck."</p> + +<p>"STOP THIEF!" shrieked Ghysbrecht, and suddenly turned on +his servant and collared him, and shook him with rage. "D'ye stand +there, knave, and see your master robbed? Run! fly! A hundred +crowns to him that finds it me again. No, no! 'tis in vain. Oh +fool! fool! to leave that in the same room with him. But none ever +found the secret spring before. None ever would but he. It was to +be. It is to be. Lost! lost!" and his years and infirmity now gained +the better of his short-lived frenzy, and he sank on the chest muttering +"lost! lost!"</p> + +<p>"What is lost, master?" asked the servant kindly.</p> + +<p>"House and lands and good name," groaned Ghysbrecht, and +wrung his hands feebly.</p> + +<p>"WHAT?" cried the servant.</p> + +<p>This emphatic word, and the tone of eager curiosity, struck on +Ghysbrecht's ear, and revived his natural cunning.</p> + +<p>"I have lost the town records," stammered he, and he looked askant +at the man like a fox caught near a hen-roost.</p> + +<p>"Oh, is that all?"</p> + +<p>"Is't not enough? What will the burghers say to me? What will +the burgh do?" Then he suddenly burst out again, "A hundred +crowns to him who shall recover them; all, mind, all that were in this +box. If one be missing, I give nothing."</p> + +<p>"'Tis a bargain, master: the hundred crowns are in my pouch. See +you not that where Gerard Eliassoen is, there are the pieces of sheepskin +you rate so high?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is true; that is true; good Dierich: good faithful Dierich. +All, mind, all, that were in the chest."</p> + +<p>"Master, I will take the constables to Gerard's house and seize him +for the theft."</p> + +<p>"The theft? ay! good; very good. It is theft. I forgot that. +So, as he is a thief now, we will put him in the dungeons below: +where the toads are and the rats. Dierich, that man must never see +daylight again. 'Tis his own fault; he must be prying. Quick, +quick! ere he has time to talk, you know, time to talk."</p> + +<p>In less than half an hour Dierich Brower and four constables entered +the hosier's house, and demanded young Gerard of the panic-stricken +Catherine.</p> + +<p>"Alas! what has he done now?" cried she: "that boy will break +my heart."</p> + +<p>"Nay, dame, but a trick of youth," said Dierich. "He hath but +made off with certain skins of parchment, in a frolic doubtless; but +the burgomaster is answerable to the burgh for their safe keeping, so +he is in care about them: as for the youth, he will doubtless be quit +for a reprimand."</p> + +<p>This smooth speech completely imposed on Catherine: but her +daughter was more suspicious, and that suspicion was strengthened +by the disproportionate anger and disappointment Dierich showed +the moment he learned Gerard was not at home, had not been at home +that night.</p> + +<p>"Come away then," said he roughly. "We are wasting time." +He added, vehemently, "I'll find him if he is above ground."</p> + +<p>Affection sharpens the wits, and often it has made an innocent person +more than a match for the wily. As Dierich was going out, Kate +made him a signal she would speak with him privately. He bade his +men go on, and waited outside the door. She joined him.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said she, "my mother knows not. Gerard has left Tergou."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"I saw him last night."</p> + +<p>"Ay? Where?" cried Dierich, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"At the foot of the haunted tower."</p> + +<p>"How did he get the rope?"</p> + +<p>"I know not; but this I know; my brother Gerard bade me there +farewell, and he is many leagues from Tergou ere this. The town +you know, was always unworthy of him, and, when it imprisoned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +him, he vowed never to set foot in it again. Let the burgomaster be +content, then. He has imprisoned him, and he has driven him from +his birthplace and from his native land. What need now to rob him +and us of our good name?"</p> + +<p>This might at another moment have struck Dierich as good sense; +but he was too mortified at this escape of Gerard and the loss of a +hundred crowns.</p> + +<p>"What need had he to steal?" retorted he, bitterly.</p> + +<p>"Gerard stole not the trash; he but <i>took</i> it to spite the burgomaster +who stole his liberty; but he shall answer to the duke for it, he shall. +As for these skins of parchment you keep such a coil about, look in +the nearest brook, or stye, and 'tis odds but you find them."</p> + +<p>"Think ye so, mistress?—think ye so?" And Dierich's eyes +flashed. "Mayhap you know 'tis so."</p> + +<p>"This I know, that Gerard is too good to steal, and too wise to load +himself with rubbish, going a journey."</p> + +<p>"Give you good day, then," said Dierich, sharply. "The sheepskin +you scorn, I value more than the skin of any be in Tergou."</p> + +<p>And he went off hastily on a false scent.</p> + +<p>Kate returned into the house and drew Giles aside.</p> + +<p>"Giles, my heart misgives me; breathe not to a soul what I say to +you. I have told Dirk Brower that Gerard is out of Holland: but +much I doubt he is not a league from Tergou."</p> + +<p>"Why, where is he, then?"</p> + +<p>"Where should he be, but with her he loves? But if so, he must +not loiter. These be deep and dark and wicked men that seek him. +Giles, I see that in Dirk Brower's eye makes me tremble. Oh! why +cannot I fly to Sevenbergen, and bid him away? Why am I not +lusty and active like other girls? God forgive me for fretting at +His will: but I never felt till now what it is to be lame and weak and +useless. But you are strong, dear Giles," added she coaxingly, "you +are very strong."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I am strong;" thundered Perpusillus: then, catching sight +of her meaning, "but I hate to go on foot," he added, sulkily.</p> + +<p>"Alas! alas! who will help me if you will not? Dear Giles, do you +not love Gerard?"</p> + +<p>"Yes I like him best of the lot. I'll go to Sevenbergen on +Peter Buyskens his mule. Ask you him, for he won't lend her +me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> + +<p>Kate remonstrated. The whole town would follow him. It would +be known whither he was gone, and Gerard be in worse danger than +before.</p> + +<p>Giles parried this by promising to ride out of the town the opposite +way, and not turn the mule's head toward Sevenbergen till he had +got rid of the curious.</p> + +<p>Kate then assented, and borrowed the mule. She charged +Giles with a short but meaning message, and made him repeat +it after her, over and over, till he could say it word for word.</p> + +<p>Giles started on the mule, and little Kate retired, and did the last +thing now in her power for her beloved brother; prayed on her knees +long and earnestly for his safety.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERARD and Margaret went gaily to Sevenbergen in the first +flush of recovered liberty, and successful adventure. But +these soon yielded to sadder thoughts. Gerard was an escaped +prisoner, and liable to be retaken and perhaps punished; and +therefore he and Margaret would have to part for a time. Moreover +he had conceived a hatred to his native place. Margaret wished him +to leave the country for a while, but at the thought of his going to +Italy her heart fainted. Gerard, on the contrary, was reconciled to +leaving Margaret only by his desire to visit Italy, and his strong conviction +that there he should earn money and reputation, and remove +every obstacle to their marriage. He had already told her all that +the demoiselle Van Eyck had said to him. He repeated it, and reminded +Margaret that the gold pieces were only given him to go to +Italy with. The journey was clearly for Gerard's interest. He was +a craftsman and an artist, lost in this boorish place. In Italy they +would know how to value him. On this ground above all the unselfish +girl gave her consent: but many tender tears came with it, and +at that Gerard, young and loving as herself, cried bitterly with her, +and often they asked one another what they had done, that so many +different persons should be their enemies, and combine, as it seemed, +to part them.</div> + +<p>They sat hand in hand till midnight, now deploring their hard fate,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +now drawing bright and hopeful pictures of the future, in the midst +of which Margaret's tears would suddenly flow, and then poor Gerard's +eloquence would die away in a sigh.</p> + +<p>The morning found them resigned to part, but neither had the +courage to say when; and much I doubt whether the hour of parting +ever would have struck.</p> + +<p>But about three in the afternoon, Giles, who had made a circuit of +many miles to avoid suspicion, rode up to the door. They both ran +out to him, eager with curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Brother Gerard," cried he, in his tremendous tones, "Kate bids +you run for your life. They charge you with theft; you have given +them a handle. Think not to explain. Hope not for justice in Tergou. +The parchments you took they are but a blind. She hath seen +your death in the men's eyes: a price is on your head. Fly! For +Margaret's sake and all who love you, loiter not life away, but fly!"</p> + +<p>It was a thunder-clap, and left two white faces looking at one +another, and at the terrible messenger.</p> + +<p>Then Giles, who had hitherto but uttered by rote what Catherine +bade him, put in a word of his own.</p> + +<p>"All the constables were at our house after you, and so was Dirk +Brower. Kate is wise, Gerard. Best give ear to her rede, and fly."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes! Gerard," cried Margaret, wildly. "Fly on the instant. +Ah! those parchments; my mind misgave me: why did I let you take +them?"</p> + +<p>"Margaret, they are but a blind: Giles says so: no matter, the old +caitiff shall never see them again; I will not go till I have hidden his +treasure where he shall never find it." Gerard then, after thanking +Giles warmly, bade him farewell, and told him to go back, and tell +Kate he was gone. "For I shall be gone, ere you reach home," said +he. He then shouted for Martin; and told him what had happened, +and begged him to go a little way towards Tergou; and watch the +road.</p> + +<p>"Ay!" said Martin, "and if I see Dirk Brower, or any of his men, +I will shoot an arrow into the oak tree that is in our garden; and on +that you must run into the forest hard by, and meet me at the weird +hunter's spring. Then I will guide you through the wood."</p> + +<p>Surprise thus provided against, Gerard breathed again. +He went with Margaret, and, while she watched the oak-tree +tremblingly, fearing every moment to see an arrow strike among<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +the branches, Gerard dug a deep hole to bury the parchments in.</p> + +<p>He threw them in, one by one. They were nearly all charters and +records of the burgh: but one appeared to be a private deed between +Floris Brandt, father of Peter, and Ghysbrecht.</p> + +<p>"Why this is as much yours as his," said Gerard. "I will read +this."</p> + +<p>"Oh, not now, Gerard, not now," cried Margaret. "Every moment +you lose fills me with fear; and see, large drops of rain are beginning +to fall, and the clouds lower."</p> + +<p>Gerard yielded to this remonstrance: but he put the deed into his +bosom, and threw the earth in over the others, and stamped it down.</p> + +<p>While thus employed there came a flash of lightning followed by a +peal of distant thunder, and the rain came down heavily. Margaret +and Gerard ran into the house, whither they were speedily followed by +Martin.</p> + +<p>"The road is clear," said he, "and a heavy storm coming on."</p> + +<p>His words proved true. The thunder came nearer and nearer till +it crashed overhead: the flashes followed one another close, like +the strokes of a whip, and the rain fell in torrents. Margaret hid +her face not to see the lightning. On this, Gerard put up the rough +shutter, and lighted a candle. The lovers consulted together, and +Gerard blessed the storm that gave him a few hours more with +Margaret. The sun set unperceived, and still the thunder pealed, +and the lightning flashed, and the rain poured. Supper was set, but +Gerard and Margaret could not eat: the thought that this was the +last time they should sup together, choked them. The storm +lulled a little. Peter retired to rest. But Gerard was to go at peep +of day, and neither he nor Margaret could afford to lose an hour in +sleep. Martin sat a while, too: for he was fitting a new string to +his bow, a matter in which he was very nice.</p> + +<p>The lovers murmured their sorrows and their love beside him.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the old man held up his hand to them to be silent.</p> + +<p>They were quiet and listened, and heard nothing. But the next +moment a footstep crackled faintly upon the autumn leaves that lay +strewn in the garden at the back door of the house. To those who had +nothing to fear such a step would have said nothing: but to those who +had enemies it was terrible. For it was a foot trying to be noiseless.</p> + +<p>Martin fitted an arrow to his string, and hastily blew out the candle. +At this moment, to their horror, they heard more than one footstep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +approach the other door of the cottage, not quite so noiselessly as the +other, but very stealthily—and then a dead pause.</p> + +<p>Their blood froze in their veins.</p> + +<p>"Oh! Kate! oh, Kate! You said, fly on the instant." And Margaret +moaned and wrung her hands in anguish and terror, and wild +remorse for having kept Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Hush girl!" said Martin, in a stern whisper.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>A heavy knock fell on the door.</p> + +<p>And on the hearts within.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>AS if this had been a concerted signal, the back door was struck +as rudely the next instant. They were hemmed in. But at +these alarming sounds Margaret seemed to recover some +share of self-possession. She whispered, "Say he <i>was</i> here, but is +gone." And with this she seized Gerard and almost dragged him up +the rude steps that led to her father's sleeping-room. Her own lay +next beyond it.</div> + +<p>The blows on the door were repeated.</p> + +<p>"Who knocks at this hour?"</p> + +<p>"Open, and you will see!"</p> + +<p>"I open not to thieves—honest men are all abed now."</p> + +<p>"Open to the law, Martin Wittenhaagen, or you shall rue it."</p> + +<p>"Why, that is Dirk Brower's voice, I trow. What make you so far +from Tergou?"</p> + +<p>"Open, and you will know."</p> + +<p>Martin drew the bolt, very slowly, and in rushed Dierich and four +more. They let in their companion who was at the back door.</p> + +<p>"Now, Martin, where is Gerard Eliassoen?"</p> + +<p>"Gerard Eliassoen? Why he was here but now?"</p> + +<p>"Was here?" Dierich's countenance fell. "And where is he now?"</p> + +<p>"They say he has gone to Italy. Why? What is to do?"</p> + +<p>"No matter. When did he go? Tell me not that he went in +such a storm as this!"</p> + +<p>"Here is a coil about Gerard Eliassoen," said Martin contemptuously. +Then he lighted the candle, and, seating himself coolly by +the fire, proceeded to whip some fine silk round his bow-string at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +the place where the nick of the arrow frets it. "I'll tell you," +said he carelessly. "Know you his brother Giles—a little misbegotten +imp all head and arms? Well, he came tearing over here +on a mule, and bawled out something. I was too far off to hear the +creature's words, but only its noise. Anyway, he started Gerard. +For as soon as he was gone, there was such crying and kissing, +and then Gerard went away. They do tell me he has gone to +Italy—mayhap you know where that is; for I don't."</p> + +<p>Dierich's countenance fell lower and lower at this account. There +was no flaw in it. A cunninger man than Martin would, perhaps, +have told a lie too many, and raised suspicion. But Martin did his +task well. He only told the one falsehood he was bade to tell, and +of his own head invented nothing.</p> + +<p>"Mates," said Dierich, "I doubt he speaks sooth. I told the +burgomaster how 'twould be. He met the dwarf galloping Peter +Buyskens' mule from Sevenbergen. 'They have sent that imp to +Gerard,' says he, 'so, then, Gerard is at Sevenbergen.' 'Ah, master!' +says I, ''tis too late now. We should have thought of Sevenbergen +before, instead of wasting our time hunting all the odd corners +of Tergou for those cursed parchments that we shall never find +till we find the man that took 'em. If he was at Sevenbergen,' +quoth I, 'and they sent the dwarf to him, it must have been to +warn him we are after him. He is leagues away by now,' quoth I. +Confound that chalk-faced girl! she has out-witted us bearded men: +and so I told the burgomaster, but he would not hear to reason. A +wet jerkin apiece, that is all we shall get, mates, by this job."</p> + +<p>Martin grinned coolly in Dierich's face.</p> + +<p>"However," added the latter, "to content the burgomaster, we will +search the house."</p> + +<p>Martin turned grave directly.</p> + +<p>This change of countenance did not escape Dierich. He reflected +a moment.</p> + +<p>"Watch outside two of you, one on each side of the house, that +no one jump from the upper windows. The rest come with me."</p> + +<p>And he took the candle and mounted the stairs, followed by three +of his comrades.</p> + +<p>Martin was left alone.</p> + +<p>The stout soldier hung his head. All had gone so well at first: +and now this fatal turn! Suddenly it occurred to him that all was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +not yet lost. Gerard must be either in Peter's room or Margaret's; +they were not so very high from the ground. Gerard would leap +out. Dierich had left a man below; but what then? For half a +minute Gerard and he would be two to one, and in that brief space, +what might not be done?</p> + +<p>Martin then held the back door ajar and watched. The light +shone in Peter's room. "Curse the fool!" said he, "is he going to +let them take him like a girl?"</p> + +<p>The light now passed into Margaret's bedroom. Still no window +was opened. Had Gerard intended to escape that way he would not +have waited till the men were in the room. Martin saw that at +once, and left the door, and came to the foot-stair and listened. +He began to think Gerard must have escaped by the window while +all the men were in the house. The longer the silence continued +the stronger grew this conviction. But it was suddenly and rudely +dissipated.</p> + +<p>Faint cries issued from the inner bedroom—Margaret's.</p> + +<p>"They have taken him," groaned Martin; "they have got him."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>It now flashed across Martin's mind that if they took Gerard +away his life was not worth a button; and that, if evil befell him, +Margaret's heart would break. He cast his eyes wildly round like +some savage beast seeking an escape, and in a twinkling formed a +resolution terribly characteristic of those iron times and of a soldier +driven to bay. He stepped to each door in turn, and imitating Dirk +Bower's voice, said sharply, "Watch the window!" He then quietly +closed and bolted both doors. He then took up his bow and six +arrows; one he fitted to his string, the others he put into his quiver. +His knife he placed upon a chair behind him, the hilt towards him; +and there he waited at the foot of the stair with the calm determination +to slay those four men, or be slain by them. Two, he knew, +he could dispose of by his arrows, ere they could get near him, and +Gerard and he must take their chance hand-to-hand, with the remaining +pair. Besides, he had seen men panic-stricken by a sudden +attack of this sort. Should Brower and his men hesitate but +an instant before closing with him, he should shoot three instead of +two, and then the odds would be on the right side.</p> + +<p>He had not long to wait. The heavy steps sounded in Margaret's +room, and came nearer and nearer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span></p> + +<p>The light also approached, and voices.</p> + +<p>Martin's heart, stout as it was, beat hard, to hear men coming +thus to their death, and, perhaps to his; more likely so than not; +for four is long odds in a battle-field of ten feet square, and Gerard +might be bound, perhaps, and powerless to help. But this man, +whom we have seen shake in his shoes at a Giles-o'-lanthorn, never +wavered in this awful moment of real danger, but stood there, his +body all braced for combat, and his eyes glowing, equally ready to +take life and lose it. Desperate game! to win which was exile +instant and for life, and to lose it was to die that moment upon that +floor he stood on.</p> + +<p>Dierich Brower and his men found Peter in his first sleep. They +opened his cupboards; they ran their knives into an alligator +he had nailed to his wall; they looked under his bed: it; was a +large room, and apparently full of hiding places, but they found no +Gerard.</p> + +<p>Then they went on to Margaret's room, and the very sight of it +was discouraging—it was small and bare, and not a cupboard in it; +there was, however, a large fireplace and chimney. Dierich's eye +fell on these directly. Here they found the beauty of Sevenbergen +sleeping on an old chest, not a foot high, and no attempt made to +cover it; but the sheets were snowy white, and so was Margaret's +own linen. And there she lay, looking like a lily fallen into a +rut.</p> + +<p>Presently she awoke, and sat up in the bed, like one amazed; +then, seeing the men, began to scream faintly, and pray for mercy.</p> + +<p>She made Dierich Brower ashamed of his errand.</p> + +<p>"Here is a to-do," said he, a little confused. "We are not going +to hurt you, my pretty maid. Lie you still, and shut your eyes, +and think of your wedding-night, while I look up this chimney +to see if Master Gerard is there."</p> + +<p>"Gerard! in my room?"</p> + +<p>"Why not? They say that you and he—"</p> + +<p>"Cruel; you know they have driven him away from me—driven +him from his native place. This is a blind. You are thieves; you +are wicked men; you are not men of Sevenbergen, or you would know +Margaret Brandt better than to look for her lover in this room of +all others in the world. Oh brave! Four great hulking men to +come, armed to the teeth, to insult one poor honest girl! The women<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +that live in your own houses must be naught, or you would respect +them too much to insult a girl of good character."</p> + +<p>"There, come away, before we hear worse," said Dierich, hastily. +"He is not in the chimney. Plaster will mend what a cudgel +breaks; but a woman's tongue is a double-edged dagger, and a girl +is a woman with her mother's milk still in her." And he beat a +hasty retreat. "I told the burgomaster how 'twould be."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>WHERE is the woman that cannot act a part? Where is +she who will not do it, and do it well, to save the man +she loves? Nature on these great occasions comes to the +aid of the simplest of the sex, and teaches her to throw dust in +Solomon's eyes. The men had no sooner retired, than Margaret +stepped out of bed, and opened the long chest on which she had +been lying down in her skirt and petticoat and stockings, and nightdress +over all; and put the lid, bed-clothes and all, against the wall: +then glided to the door and listened. The footsteps died away +through her father's room, and down the stairs.</div> + +<p>Now in that chest there was a peculiarity that it was almost impossible +for a stranger to detect. A part of the boarding of the +room had been broken, and Gerard being applied to to make it look +neater, and being short of materials, had ingeniously sawed away +a space sufficient just to admit Margaret's <i>soi-disant</i> bed, and with +the materials thus acquired he had repaired the whole room. As +for the bed or chest it really rested on the rafters a foot below the +boards. Consequently it was full two feet deep, though it looked +scarce one.</p> + +<p>All was quiet. Margaret kneeled and gave thanks to Heaven. +Then she glided from the door, and leaned over the chest, and +whispered tenderly, "Gerard!"</p> + +<p>Gerard did not reply.</p> + +<p>She then whispered, a little louder, "Gerard, all is safe, thank +Heaven! You may rise; but, oh! be cautious!"</p> + +<p>Gerard made no reply.</p> + +<p>She laid her hand upon his shoulder—"Gerard!"</p> + +<p>No reply.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh! what is this?" she cried, and her hands ran wildly over +his face and his bosom. She took him by the shoulders; she shook +him; she lifted him; but he escaped from her trembling hands, and +fell back not like a man but like a body. A great dread fell on +her. The lid had been down. She had lain upon it. The men +had been some time in the room. With all the strength of frenzy +she tore him out of the chest. She bore him in her arms to the +window. She dashed the window open. The sweet air came in. +She laid him in it and in the moonlight. His face was the colour +of ashes, his body was all limp and motionless. She felt his heart. +Horror! it was as still as the rest! Horror of horrors! she had +stifled him with her own body.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The mind cannot all at once believe so great and sudden and +strange a calamity. Gerard, who had got alive into that chest +scarce five minutes ago, how could he be dead?</p> + +<p>She called him by all the endearing names that heart could think +or tongue could frame. She kissed him and fondled him and coaxed +him and implored him to speak to her.</p> + +<p>No answer to words of love, such as she had never uttered to him +before, nor thought she could utter. Then the poor creature, trembling +all over, began to say over that ashy face little foolish things that +were at once terrible and pitiable.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerard! I am very sorry you are dead. I am very sorry +I have killed you. Forgive me for not letting the men take you, it +would have been better than this. Oh, Gerard! I am very, very sorry +for what I have done." Then she began suddenly to rave. "No! +no! such things can't be, or there is no God. It is monstrous. How +can my Gerard be dead? How can I have killed my Gerard? I +love him. Oh, God! you know how I love him. He does not. I +never told him. If he knew my heart, he would speak to me, he +would not be so deaf to his poor Margaret. It is all a trick to make +me cry out and betray him: but, no, I love him too well for that. +I'll choke first." And she seized her own throat, to check her wild +desire to scream in her terror and anguish.</p> + +<p>"If he would but say one word. Oh, Gerard! don't die without a +word. Have mercy on me and scold me! but speak to me: if you +are angry with me, scold me! curse me! I deserve it: the idiot +that killed the man she loved better than herself. Ah! I am a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span> +murderess. The worst in all the world. Help, help! I have murdered +him. Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!"</p> + +<p>She tore her hair, and uttered shriek after shriek so wild, so piercing, +they fell like a knell upon the ears of Dierich Brower and his +men. All started to their feet, and looked at one another.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>MARTIN WITTENHAAGEN standing at the foot of the +stairs with his arrow drawn nearly to the head and his +knife behind him, was struck with amazement to see the +men come back without Gerard: he lowered his bow, and looked open-mouthed +at them. They, for their part, were equally puzzled at +the attitude they had caught him in.</div> + +<p>"Why, mates, was the old fellow making ready to shoot at <i>us?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Stuff!" said Martin, recovering his stolid composure, "I was +but trying my new string. There, I'll unstring my bow, if you +think that."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Dierich, suspiciously, "there is something more +in you than I understand: put a log on, and let us dry our hides a +bit, ere we go."</p> + +<p>A blazing fire was soon made and the men gathered round it, +and their clothes and long hair were soon smoking from the cheerful +blaze. Then it was that the shrieks were heard in Margaret's +room. They all started up, and one of them seized the candle, and +ran up the steps that led to the bedrooms.</p> + +<p>Martin rose hastily, too, and being confused by these sudden +screams, and apprehending danger from the man's curiosity, tried +to prevent him from going there.</p> + +<p>At this Dierich threw his arms round him from behind, and +called on the others to keep him. The man that had the candle +got clear away, and all the rest fell upon Martin, and after a long +and fierce struggle, in the course of which they were more than once +all rolling on the floor, with Martin in the middle, they succeeded +in mastering the old Samson, and binding him hand and foot with +a rope they had brought for Gerard.</p> + +<p>Martin groaned aloud. He saw the man had made his way to +Margaret's room during the struggle, and here was he powerless.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay, grind your teeth, you old rogue," said Dierich, panting with +the struggle. "You shan't use them."</p> + +<p>"It is my belief, mates, that our lives were scarce safe while this +old fellow's bones were free."</p> + +<p>"He makes me think this Gerard is not far off," put in another.</p> + +<p>"No such luck," replied Dierich. "Hallo, mates. Jorian Ketel +is a long time in that girl's bedroom. Best go and see after him, +some of us."</p> + +<p>The rude laugh caused by this remark had hardly subsided, when +hasty footsteps were heard running along overhead.</p> + +<p>"Oh! here he comes, at last. Well, Jorian, what is to do now up +there?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>JORIAN KETEL went straight to Margaret's room, and there, +to his infinite surprise, he found the man he had been in search +of, pale and motionless, his head in Margaret's lap, and she +kneeling over him, mute now, and stricken to stone. Her eyes were +dilated, yet glazed, and she neither saw the light nor heard the man, +nor cared for anything on earth, but the white face in her lap.</div> + +<p>Jorian stood awe-struck, the candle shaking in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Why, where was he, then, all the time?"</p> + +<p>Margaret heeded him not. Jorian went to the empty chest and +inspected it. He began to comprehend. The girl's dumb and frozen +despair moved him.</p> + +<p>"This is a sorry sight," said he: "it is a black night's work: all for +a few skins! Better have gone with us than so. She is past answering +me, poor wench. Stop—let us try whether—"</p> + +<p>He took down a little round mirror, no bigger than his hand, and +put it to Gerard's mouth and nostrils, and held it there. When he +withdrew it it was dull.</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">There is life in him!</span>" said Jorian Ketel to himself.</p> + +<p>Margaret caught the words instantly, though only muttered, and it +was as if a statue should start into life and passion. She rose and +flung her arms round Jorian's neck.</p> + +<p>"Oh bless the tongue that tells me so!" and she clasped the great +rough fellow again and again, eagerly, almost fiercely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There, there! let us lay him warm," said Jorian; and in a moment +he raised Gerard, and laid him on the bed-clothes. Then he took out +a flask he carried, and filled his hand twice with Schiedamze, and +flung it sharply each time in Gerard's face. The pungent liquor co-operated +with his recovery—he gave a faint sigh. Oh, never was +sound so joyful to human ear! She flew towards him, but then +stopped, quivering for fear she should hurt him. She had lost all +confidence in herself.</p> + +<p>"That is right—let him alone," said Jorian: "don't go cuddling +him as you did me, or you'll drive his breath back again. Let him +alone: he is sure to come to. 'Tisn't like as if he was an old man."</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed deeply, and a faint streak of colour stole to his lips. +Jorian made for the door. He had hardly reached it, when he found +his legs seized from behind.</p> + +<p>It was Margaret! She curled round his knees like a serpent, and +kissed his hand, and fawned on him. "You won't tell? You have +saved his life; you have not the heart to thrust him back into his grave, +to undo your own good work?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! It is not the first time I've done you two a good turn; +'twas I told you in the church whither we had to take him. Besides, +what is Dirk Brower to me? I'll see him hanged ere I'll tell him. +But I wish you'd tell <i>me</i> where the parchments are? There are a +hundred crowns offered for them. That would be a good windfall +for my Joan and the children, you know."</p> + +<p>"Ah! they shall have those hundred crowns."</p> + +<p>"What! are the things in the house?" asked Jorian, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"No; but I know where they are: and, by God and St. Bavon I +swear you shall have them to-morrow. Come to me for them when +you will, but come alone."</p> + +<p>"I were mad, else. What! share the hundred crowns with Dirk +Brower? And now may my bones rot in my skin if I let a soul know +the poor boy is here."</p> + +<p>He then ran off, lest by staying longer he should excite suspicion, +and have them all after him. And Margaret knelt, quivering from +head to foot, and prayed beside Gerard, and for Gerard.</p> + +<p>"What is to do?" replied Jorian, to Dierich Brower's query; "why +we have scared the girl out of her wits. She was in a kind of fit."</p> + +<p>"We had better all go and doctor her, then."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes! and frighten her into the churchyard. Her father is a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +doctor, and I have roused him, and set him to bring her round. Let +us see the fire, will ye?"</p> + +<p>His off-hand way disarmed all suspicion. And soon after the +party agreed that the kitchen of the "Three Kings" was much warmer +than Peter's house, and they departed, having first untied Martin.</p> + +<p>"Take note, mate, that I was right, and the burgomaster wrong," +said Dierich Brower, at the door: "I said we should be too late to +catch him, and we were too late."</p> + +<p>Thus Gerard, in one terrible night, grazed the prison and the +grave.</p> + +<p>And how did he get clear at last? Not by his cunningly contrived +hiding-place, nor by Margaret's ready wit; but by a good impulse in +one of his captors, by the bit of humanity left in a somewhat reckless +fellow's heart, aided by his desire of gain. So mixed and seemingly incongruous +are human motives, so short sighted our shrewdest counsels.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>They whose moderate natures, or gentle fates, keep them, in life's +passage, from the fierce extremes of joy and anguish our nature is +capable of, are perhaps the best, and certainly the happiest, of mankind. +But to such readers I should try in vain to convey what bliss +unspeakable settled now upon these persecuted lovers. Even to those +who have joyed greatly, and greatly suffered, my feeble art can present +but a pale reflection of Margaret's and Gerard's ecstasy.</p> + +<p>To sit and see a beloved face come back from the grave to the world, +to health and beauty by swift gradations; to see the roses return to the +loved cheek, love's glance to the loved eye, and his words to the loved +mouth; this was Margaret's—a joy to balance years of sorrow. It +was Gerard's to awake from a trance, and find his head pillowed on +Margaret's arm; to hear the woman he adored murmur new words of +eloquent love, and shower tears and tender kisses and caresses on him. +He never knew, till this sweet moment, how ardently, how tenderly, +she loved him. He thanked his enemies. They wreathed their arms +sweetly round each other, and trouble and danger seemed a world, an +age, behind them. They called each other husband and wife. Were +they not solemnly betrothed? And had they not stood before the +altar together? Was not the blessing of Holy Church upon their +union?—her curse on all who would part them?</p> + +<p>But as no woman's nerves can bear with impunity so terrible a +strain, presently Margaret turned faint, and sank on Gerard's shoulder,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +smiling feebly, but quite, quite unstrung. Then Gerard was +anxious, and would seek assistance. But she held him with a gentle +grasp, and implored him not to leave her for a moment. "While I +can lay my hand on you, I feel you are safe, not else. Foolish Gerard! +nothing ails me. I am weak, dearest, but happy, oh! so happy."</p> + +<p>Then it was Gerard's turn to support that dear head, with its great +waves of hair flowing loose over him, and nurse her, and soothe her, +quivering on his bosom, with soft encouraging words and murmurs of +love, and gentle caresses. Sweetest of all her charms is a woman's +weakness to a manly heart.</p> + +<p>Poor things! they were happy. To-morrow they must part. But +that was nothing to them now. They had seen Death, and all other +troubles seemed light as air. While there is life there is hope: while +there is hope there is joy. Separation for a year or two, what was it +to them, who were so young, and had caught a glimpse of the grave? +The future was bright, the present was Heaven: so passed the blissful +hours.</p> + +<p>Alas! their innocence ran other risks besides the prison and the +grave: they were in most danger from their own hearts and their inexperience, +now that visible danger there was none.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GHYSBRECHT VAN SWIETEN could not sleep all night +for anxiety. He was afraid of thunder and lightning: or he +would have made one of the party that searched Peter's +house. As soon as the storm ceased altogether, he crept down stairs, +saddled his mule, and rode to the "Three Kings" at Sevenbergen. +There he found his men sleeping, some on chairs, some on the tables, +some on the floor. He roused them furiously, and heard the story of +their unsuccessful search, interlarded with praises of their zeal.</div> + +<p>"Fool! to let you go without me," cried the burgomaster. "My +life on't he was there all the time. Looked ye under the girl's bed?"</p> + +<p>"No: there was no room for a man there."</p> + +<p>"How know ye that, if ye looked not?" snarled Ghysbrecht. "Ye +should have looked under her bed and in it, too; and sounded all the +panels with your knives. Come, now, get up, and I shall show ye +how to search."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> + +<p>Dierich Brower got up, and shook himself: "If you find him, +call me a horse and no man."</p> + +<p>In a few minutes Peter's house was again surrounded.</p> + +<p>The fiery old man left his mule in the hands of Jorian Ketel, and, +with Dierich Brower and the others, entered the house.</p> + +<p>The house was empty.</p> + +<p>Not a creature to be seen, not even Peter. They went up-stairs, +and then suddenly one of the men gave a shout, and pointed through +Peter's window, which was open. The other looked, and there, at +some little distance, walking quietly across the fields with Margaret +and Martin, was the man they sought. Ghysbrecht with an exulting +yell, descended the stairs, and flung himself on his mule; and he and +his men set off in hot pursuit.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERARD, warned by recent peril, rose before daybreak, and +waked Martin. The old soldier was astonished. He +thought Gerard had escaped by the window last night. Being +consulted as to the best way for him to leave the country and +elude pursuit, he said there was but one road safe. "I must guide you +through the great forest to a bridle-road I know of. This will take +you speedily to a hostelry, where they will lend you a swift horse: and +then a day's gallop will take you out of Holland. But let us start ere +the folk here quit their beds."</div> + +<p>Peter's house was but a furlong and a half from the forest. They +started, Martin with his bow and three arrows, for it was Thursday: +Gerard with nothing but a stout oak staff Peter gave him for the +journey.</p> + +<p>Margaret pinned up her kirtle and farthingale, for the road was +wet. Peter went as far as his garden hedge with them, and then, with +more emotion than he often bestowed on passing events, gave the +young man his blessing.</p> + +<p>The sun was peeping above the horizon as they crossed the stony +field and made for the wood. They had crossed about half, when +Margaret, who kept nervously looking back every now and then, +uttered a cry, and, following her instinct, began to run towards the +wood, screaming with terror all the way.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht and his men were in hot pursuit.</p> + +<p>Resistance would have been madness. Martin and Gerard followed +Margaret's example. The pursuers gained slightly on them; but +Martin kept shouting, "Only win the wood! only win the wood!"</p> + +<p>They had too good a start for the men on foot, and their hearts +bounded with hope at Martin's words, for the great trees seemed now +to stretch their branches like friendly arms towards them, and their +leaves like a screen.</p> + +<p>But an unforeseen danger attacked them. The fiery old burgomaster +flung himself on his mule, and, spurring him to a gallop, he +headed not his own men only but the fugitives. His object was to +cut them off. The old man came galloping in a semicircle, and got +on the edge of the wood, right in front of Gerard; the others might +escape for ought he cared.</p> + +<p>Margaret shrieked and tried to protect Gerard by clasping him; but +he shook her off without ceremony.</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht in his ardor forgot that hunted animals turn on the hunter; +and that two men can hate, and two can long to kill the thing they +hate.</p> + +<p>Instead of attempting to dodge him, as the burgomaster made sure +he would, Gerard flew right at him with a savage, exulting cry, and +struck at him with all his heart and soul and strength. The oak staff +came down on Ghysbrecht's face with a frightful crash, and laid him +under his mule's tail beating the devil's tattoo with his heels, his face +streaming, and his collar spattered with blood.</p> + +<p>The next moment, the three were in the wood. The yell of dismay +and vengeance that burst from Ghysbrecht's men at that terrible blow +which felled their leader, told the fugitives that it was now a race for +life or death.</p> + +<p>"Why run?" cried Gerard panting. "You have your bow; and I +have this:" and he shook his bloody staff.</p> + +<p>"Boy!" roared Martin; "The GALLOWS! Follow me!" and he +fled into the wood. Soon they heard a cry like a pack of hounds opening +on sight of the game. The men were in the wood, and saw them +flitting amongst the trees. Margaret moaned and panted, as she ran; +and Gerard clenched his teeth, and grasped his staff. The next +minute they came to a stiff hazel coppice. Martin dashed into it, and +shouldered the young wood aside as if it were standing corn.</p> + +<p>Ere they had gone fifty yards in it they came to four blind paths.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span></p> + +<p>Martin took one. "Bend low," said he: and, half creeping, they +glided along. Presently their path was again intersected with other +little tortuous paths. They took one of them; it seemed to lead +back, but it soon took a turn, and after a while brought them to a thick +pine grove where the walking was good and hard: there were no paths +here and the young fir-trees were so thick you could not see three +yards before your nose.</p> + +<p>When they had gone some way in this, Martin sat down, and having +learned in war to lose all impression of danger with the danger itself +took a piece of bread and a slice of ham out of his wallet, and began +quietly to eat his breakfast.</p> + +<p>The young ones looked at him with dismay. He replied to their +looks.</p> + +<p>"All Sevenbergen could not find you now; you will lose your purse +Gerard long before you get to Italy: is that the way to carry a purse?"</p> + +<p>Gerard looked, and there was a large triangular purse, entangled +by its chains to the buckle and strap of his wallet.</p> + +<p>"This is none of mine," said he. "What is in it, I wonder?" and he +tried to detach it: but in passing through the coppice it had become inextricably +entangled in his strap and buckle. "It seems loath to +leave me," said Gerard, and he had to cut it loose with his knife. +The purse, on examination proved to be well provided with silver +coins of all sizes, but its bloated appearance was greatly owing to a +number of pieces of brown paper folded and doubled. A light burst +on Gerard. "Why it must be that old thief's? and see! stuffed with +paper to deceive the world!"</p> + +<p>The wonder was, how the burgomaster's purse came on Gerard.</p> + +<p>They hit at last upon the right solution. The purse must have +been at Ghysbrecht's saddle-bow, and Gerard rushing at his enemy, +had unconsciously torn it away, thus felling his enemy and robbing +him, with a single gesture.</p> + +<p>Gerard was delighted at this feat, but Margaret was uneasy.</p> + +<p>"Throw it away, Gerard, or let Martin take it back. Already they +call you a thief. I cannot bear it."</p> + +<p>"Throw it away? give it him back? not a stiver. This is spoil lawfully +won in battle from an enemy. Is it not, Martin?"</p> + +<p>"Why of course. Send him back the brown paper and you will; +but the purse or the coin—that were a sin."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, Gerard!" said Margaret, "you are going to a distant land. +We need the good-will of Heaven. How can we hope for that, if we +take what is not ours?"</p> + +<p>But Gerard saw it in a different light.</p> + +<p>"It is Heaven that gives it me by a miracle, and I shall cherish it +accordingly," said this pious youth. "Thus the favoured people +spoiled the Egyptians, and were blessed."</p> + +<p>"Take your own way," said Margaret, humbly, "you are wiser +than I am. You are my husband," added she, in a low murmuring +voice; "is it for me to gainsay you?"</p> + +<p>These humble words from Margaret, who till that day had held +the whip hand rather surprised Martin for the moment. They recurred +to him some time afterwards, and then they surprised him less.</p> + +<p>Gerard kissed her tenderly in return for her wife-like docility, and +they pursued their journey hand-in-hand, Martin leading the way, +into the depths of the huge forest. The farther they went the more +absolutely secure from pursuit they felt. Indeed the townspeople +never ventured so far as this into the trackless part of the forest.</p> + +<p>Impetuous natures repent quickly. Gerard was no sooner out of +all danger, than his conscience began to prick him.</p> + +<p>"Martin, would I had not struck quite so hard."</p> + +<p>"Whom? Oh! let that pass; he is cheap served."</p> + +<p>"Martin, I saw his grey hairs as my stick fell on him. I doubt +they will not from my sight this while."</p> + +<p>Martin grunted with contempt. "Who spares a badger for his grey +hairs? The greyer your enemy is, the older; and the older the craftier; +and the craftier the better for a little killing."</p> + +<p>"Killing? Killing, Martin? speak not of killing!" And Gerard +shook all over.</p> + +<p>"I am much mistook if you have not," said Martin cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Now Heaven forbid!"</p> + +<p>"The old vagabone's skull cracked like a walnut. Aha!"</p> + +<p>"Heaven and the saints forbid it!"</p> + +<p>"He rolled off his mule like a stone shot out of a cart. Said I to +myself, 'there is one wiped out.'" And the iron old soldier grinned +ruthlessly.</p> + +<p>Gerard fell on his knees, and began to pray for his enemy's life.</p> + +<p>At this Martin lost his patience. "Here's mummery. What, +you that set up for learning, know you not that a wise man never<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +strikes his enemy but to kill him? And what is all this coil about +killing of old men? If it had been a young one now, with the joys of +life waiting for him, wine, women, and pillage? But an old fellow +at the edge of the grave, why <i>not</i> shove him in? Go he must, to-day +or to-morrow; and what better place for greybeards? Now, if ever I +should be so mischancy as to last so long as Ghysbrecht did, and have +to go on a mule's legs instead of Martin Wittenhaagen's, and a back +like this (striking the wood of his bow), instead of this (striking the +string), I'll thank and bless any young fellow, who will knock me on +the head, as you have done that old shopkeeper; malison on his +memory."</p> + +<p>"Oh, culpa mea! culpa mea!" cried Gerard, and smote upon his +breast.</p> + +<p>"Look there," said Martin to Margaret scornfully, "<i>he is a priest at +heart still:</i> and when he is not in ire, St. Paul, what a milk-sop!"</p> + +<p>"Tush, Martin!" cried Margaret reproachfully: then she wreathed +her arms round Gerard, and comforted him with the double magic of +a woman's sense and a woman's voice.</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart!" murmured she, "you forget: you went not a step out +of the way to harm him who hunted you to your death. You fled +from him. He it was who spurred on you. Then did you strike; but +in self-defence and a single blow, and with that which was in your +hand. Malice had drawn knife, or struck again and again. How +often have men been smitten with staves not one but many blows, yet +no lives lost! If then your enemy has fallen, it is through his own +malice, not yours, and by the will of God."</p> + +<p>"Bless you, Margaret, bless you for thinking so!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but, beloved one; if you have had the <i>misfortune</i> to kill that +wicked man, the more need is there that you fly with haste from Holland. +Oh! let us on."</p> + +<p>"Nay, Margaret," said Gerard. "I fear not man's vengeance, +thanks to Martin here, and this thick wood: only Him I fear +whose eye pierces the forest, and reads the heart of man. If +I but struck in self-defence, 'tis well; but if in hate, He may bid +the avenger of blood follow me to Italy; to Italy? ay, to earth's remotest +bounds."</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Martin, peevishly. "I can't hear for your chat."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Do you hear nothing, Margaret? My ears are getting old."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret listened, and presently she heard a tuneful sound, like a +single stroke upon a deep ringing bell. She described it so to Martin.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I heard it," said he.</p> + +<p>"And so did I," said Gerard: "it was beautiful. Ah! there it is +again. How sweetly it blends with the air. It is a long way off. +It is before us; is it not?"</p> + +<p>"No, no! the echoes of this wood confound the ear of a stranger. It +comes from the pine grove."</p> + +<p>"What the one we passed?"</p> + +<p>"The one we passed?"</p> + +<p>"Why, Martin, is this <i>anything?</i> You look pale."</p> + +<p>"Wonderful!" said Martin, with a sickly sneer. "He asks me is +it <i>anything?</i> Come, on, on! at any rate, let us reach a better place +than this."</p> + +<p>"A better place—for what?"</p> + +<p>"To stand at bay, Gerard," said Martin gravely: "and die like +soldiers, killing three for one."</p> + +<p>"What's that sound?"</p> + +<p>"IT IS THE AVENGER OF BLOOD."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Martin, save him! Oh, Heaven be merciful! What new +mysterious peril is this?"</p> + +<p>"GIRL, IT'S A BLOODHOUND."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE courage, like the talent, of common men, runs in a narrow +groove. Take them but an inch out of that, and they +are done. Martin's courage was perfect as far as it went. +He had met and baffled many dangers in the course of his rude life; +and these familiar dangers he could face with Spartan fortitude, +almost with indifference: but he had never been hunted by a bloodhound; +nor had he ever seen that brute's unerring instinct baffled by +human cunning. Here then a sense of the supernatural combined +with novelty to unsteel his heart. After going a few steps he leaned +on his bow, and energy and hope oozed out of him. Gerard, to whom +the danger appeared slight in proportion as it was distant, urged him +to flight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span></div> + +<p>"What avails it?" said Martin, sadly; "if we get clear of the wood +we shall die cheap; here, hard by, I know a place where we may die +dear."</p> + +<p>"Alas! good Martin," cried Gerard: "despair not so quickly: there +must be some way to escape."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Martin!" cried Margaret, "what if we were to part company? +Gerard's life alone is forfeit. Is there no way to draw the pursuit on +us twain and let him go safe?"</p> + +<p>"Girl, you know not the bloodhound's nature. He is not on this +man's track or that; he is on the track of blood. My life on't they +have taken him to where Ghysbrecht fell, and from the dead man's +blood to the man that shed it that cursed hound will lead them, +though Gerard should run through an army, or swim the Meuse." +And again he leaned upon his bow, and his head sank.</p> + +<p>The hound's mellow voice rang through the wood.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">A cry more tunable</span><br /> +Was never halloed to, nor cheered with horn,<br /> +In Crete, in Sparta, or in Thessaly.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Strange that things beautiful should be terrible and deadly. The +eye of the boa-constrictor while fascinating its prey is lovely. No +royal crown holds such a jewel; it is a ruby with the emerald's green +light playing ever upon it. Yet the deer that sees it, loses all power +of motion, and trembles, and awaits his death; and even so, to compare +hearing with sight, this sweet and mellow sound seemed to fascinate +Martin Wittenhaagen. He stood uncertain, bewildered, and +unnerved. Gerard was little better now. Martin's last words had +daunted him. He had struck an old man and shed his blood, and, by +means of that very blood, blood's four-footed avenger was on his track. +Was not the finger of Heaven in this?</p> + +<p>Whilst the men were thus benumbed, the woman's brain was all +activity. The man she loved was in danger.</p> + +<p>"Lend me your knife," said she to Martin. He gave it to her.</p> + +<p>"But 'twill be little use in your hands," said he.</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 402px;"> +<img src="images/illus121.jpg" width="402" height="600" alt="SUDDENLY A HUGE DOG BURST OUT OF THE COPPICE" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SUDDENLY A HUGE DOG BURST OUT OF THE COPPICE</span> +</div> +<p>Then Margaret did a sly thing. She stepped behind Gerard, and +furtively drew the knife across her arm, and made it bleed freely: +then stooping, smeared her hose and shoes: and still as the blood +trickled she smeared them: but so adroitly that neither Gerard nor +Martin saw. Then she seized the soldier's arm.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Come be a man," said she "and let this end. Take us to some +thick place, where numbers will not avail our foes."</p> + +<p>"I am going," said Martin sulkily. "Hurry avails not: we cannot +shun the hound, and the place is hard by;" then turning to the left, +he led the way, as men go to execution.</p> + +<p>He soon brought them to a thick hazel coppice, like the one +that had favoured their escape in the morning.</p> + +<p>"There," said he, "this is but a furlong broad, but it will serve +our turn."</p> + +<p>"What are we to do?"</p> + +<p>"Get through this, and wait on the other side: then as they +come straggling through, shoot three, knock two on the head, and +the rest will kill us."</p> + +<p>"Is that all you can think of?" said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"That is all."</p> + +<p>"Then, Martin Wittenhaagen, I take the lead; for you have lost +your head. Come, can you obey so young a man as I am?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, Martin," cried Margaret, "do not gainsay Gerard? +He is wiser than his years."</p> + +<p>Martin yielded a sullen assent.</p> + +<p>"Do then as you see me do," said Gerard; and drawing his huge +knife, he cut at every step a hazel shoot or two close by the ground, +and turning round twisted them breast high behind him among the +standing shoots. Martin did the same, but with a dogged hopeless +air. When they had thus painfully travelled through the greater +part of the coppice, the bloodhound's deep bay came nearer, and +nearer, less and less musical, louder, and sterner.</p> + +<p>Margaret trembled.</p> + +<p>Martin went down on his stomach and listened.</p> + +<p>"I hear a horse's feet."</p> + +<p>"No," said Gerard. "I doubt it is a mule's. That cursed +Ghysbrecht is still alive: none other would follow me up so bitterly."</p> + +<p>"Never strike your enemy but to slay him," said Martin, gloomily.</p> + +<p>"I'll hit harder this time, if Heaven gives me the chance," said +Gerard.</p> + +<p>At last they worked through the coppice, and there was an open +wood. The trees were large, but far apart, and no escape possible +that way.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span></p> + +<p>And now with the hound's bay mingled a score of voices, hooping +and hallooing.</p> + +<p>"The whole village is out after us," said Martin.</p> + +<p>"I care not," said Gerard. "Listen, Martin. I have made the +track smooth to the dog, but rough to the men, that we may deal +with them apart. Thus the hound will gain on the men, and as +soon as he comes out of the coppice we must kill him."</p> + +<p>"The hound? There are more than one."</p> + +<p>"I hear but one."</p> + +<p>"Ay! but one speaks, the others run mute; but let the leading +hound lose the scent, then another shall give tongue. There will +be two dogs at least, or devils in dogs' hides."</p> + +<p>"Then we must kill two instead of one. The moment they are +dead, into the coppice again, and go right back."</p> + +<p>"That is a good thought, Gerard!" said Martin, plucking up +heart.</p> + +<p>"Hush! the men are in the wood."</p> + +<p>Gerard now gave his orders in a whisper.</p> + +<p>"Stand you with your bow by the side of the coppice—there, in +the ditch. I will go but a few yards to yon oak-tree, and hide behind +it; the dogs will follow me, and, as they come out, shoot as +many as you can, the rest will I brain as they come round the tree."</p> + +<p>Martin's eye flashed. They took up their places.</p> + +<p>The hooping and hallooing came closer and closer, and soon even +the rustling of the young wood was heard, and every now and then +the unerring bloodhound gave a single bay.</p> + +<p>It was terrible! the branches rustling nearer and nearer, and +the inevitable struggle for life and death coming on minute by +minute, and that death-knell leading it. A trembling hand was +laid on Gerard's shoulder. It made him start violently, strung up +as he was.</p> + +<p>"Martin says if we are forced to part company, make for that +high ash-tree we came in by."</p> + +<p>"Yes! yes! yes! but go back, for Heaven's sake! don't come here, +all out in the open!"</p> + +<p>She ran back towards Martin; but, ere she could get to him, +suddenly a huge dog burst out of the coppice, and stood erect a +moment. Margaret cowered with fear, but he never noticed her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +Scent was to him what sight is to us. He lowered his nose an +instant, and the next moment, with an awful yell, sprang straight +at Gerard's tree, and rolled head-over-heels dead as a stone, literally +spitted by an arrow from the bow that twanged beside the coppice +in Martin's hand. That same moment out came another hound and +smelt his dead comrade. Gerard rushed out at him; but ere he +could use his cudgel, a streak of white lightning seemed to strike +the hound, and he grovelled in the dust, wounded desperately, but +not killed, and howling piteously.</p> + +<p>Gerard had not time to despatch him: the coppice rustled too near: +it seemed alive. Pointing wildly to Martin to go back, Gerard ran +a few yards to the right, then crept cautiously into the thick coppice +just as three men burst out. These had headed their comrades +considerably; the rest were following at various distances. Gerard +crawled back almost on all fours. Instinct taught Martin and Margaret +to do the same upon their line of retreat. Thus, within the +distance of a few yards, the pursuers and pursued were passing +one another upon opposite tracks.</p> + +<p>A loud cry announced the discovery of the dead and wounded +hound. Then followed a babble of voices, still swelling as fresh +pursuers reached the spot. The hunters, as usual on a surprise, +were wasting time, and the hunted ones were making the most of it.</p> + +<p>"I hear no more hounds," whispered Martin to Margaret, and +he was himself again.</p> + +<p>It was Margaret's turn to tremble and despair.</p> + +<p>"Oh! why did we part with Gerard? They will kill my Gerard, +and I not near him."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay! the head to catch him is not on their shoulders. You +bade him meet us at the ash-tree?"</p> + +<p>"And so I did. Bless you, Martin, for thinking of that. To +the ash-tree!"</p> + +<p>"Ay! but with less noise."</p> + +<p>They were now nearly at the edge of the coppice, when suddenly +they heard hooping and hallooing behind them. The men had +satisfied themselves the fugitives were in the coppice; and were +beating back.</p> + +<p>"No matter," whispered Martin to his trembling companion. "We +shall have time to win clear and slip out of sight by hard running."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> + +<p>He stopped suddenly; for just as he was going to burst out of +the brushwood, his eye caught a figure keeping sentinel. It was +Ghysbrecht Van Swieten seated on his mule; a bloody bandage was +across his nose, the bridge of which was broken; but over this +his eyes peered keenly, and it was plain by their expression he +had heard the fugitives rustle, and was looking out for them. +Martin muttered a terrible oath, and cautiously strung his bow, +then with equal caution fitted his last arrow to the string. Margaret +put her hands to her face, but said nothing. She saw this man +must die or Gerard. After the first impulse she peered through her +fingers, her heart panting to her throat.</p> + +<p>The bow was raised, and the deadly arrow steadily drawn to +its head, when at that moment an active figure leaped on Ghysbrecht +from behind so swiftly, it was like a hawk swooping on a pigeon. +A kerchief went over the burgomaster, in a turn of the hand his +head was muffled in it, and he was whirled from his seat and fell +heavily upon the ground, where he lay groaning with terror; and +Gerard jumped down after him.</p> + +<p>"Hist, Martin! Martin!"</p> + +<p>Martin and Margaret came out, the former open-mouthed, crying, +"Now fly! fly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved."</p> + +<p>At this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have +it, Margaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, +partly from loss of blood.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my beloved! fly!" she gasped. "Leave me, for I am faint."</p> + +<p>"No! no!" cried Gerard. "Death together, or safety. Ah! the +mule! mount her, you, and I'll run by your side."</p> + +<p>In a moment Martin was on Ghysbrecht's mule, and Gerard raised +the fainting girl in his arms and placed her on the saddle, and relieved +Martin of his bow.</p> + +<p>"Help! treason! murder! murder!" shrieked Ghysbrecht, suddenly +rising on his hams.</p> + +<p>"Silence, cur," roared Gerard, and trode him down again by the +throat as men crush an adder.</p> + +<p>"Now, have you got her firm? Then fly! for our lives! for our +lives!"</p> + +<p>But even as the mule, urged suddenly by Martin's heel, scattered +the flints with his hind hoofs ere he got into a canter, and even as +Gerard withdrew his foot from Ghysbrecht's throat to run, Dierich<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +Brower and his five men, who had come back for orders, and heard +the burgomaster's cries, burst roaring out of the coppice on them.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>SPEECH is the familiar vent of human thoughts: but there +are emotions so simple and overpowering, that they rush +out not in words, but in eloquent sounds. At such moments +man seems to lose his characteristics, and to be merely one of the +higher animals; for these, when greatly agitated, ejaculate, though +they cannot speak.</div> + +<p>There was something terrible and truly animal, both in the roar +of triumph with which the pursuers burst out of the thicket on +our fugitives, and the sharp cry of terror with which these latter +darted away. The pursuers' hands clutched the empty air, scarce +two feet behind them, as they fled for life. Confused for a moment, +like lions that miss their spring, Dierich and his men let Gerard and +the mule put ten yards between them. Then they flew after with +uplifted weapons. They were sure of catching them; for this was +not the first time the parties had measured speed. In the open +ground they had gained visibly on the three this morning, and +now, at last, it was a fair race again, to be settled by speed alone. +A hundred yards were covered in no time. Yet still there remained +these ten yards between the pursuers and the pursued.</p> + +<p>This increase of speed since the morning puzzled Dierich Brower. +The reason was this. When three run in company, the pace is that +of the slowest of the three. From Peter's house to the edge of the +forest Gerard ran Margaret's pace; but now he ran his own; for +the mule was fleet, and could have left them all far behind. Moreover +youth and chaste living began to tell. Daylight grew imperceptibly +between the hunted ones and the hunters. Then Dierich +made a desperate effort, and gained two yards; but in a few seconds +Gerard had stolen them quietly back. The pursuers began to curse.</p> + +<p>Martin heard, and his face lighted up. "Courage, Gerard! courage, +brave lad! they are straggling."</p> + +<p>It was so. Dierich was now headed by one of his men, and another +dropped into the rear altogether.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> + +<p>They came to a rising ground, not sharp, but long; and here +youth, and grit, and sober living, told more than ever.</p> + +<p>Ere he reached the top, Dierich's forty years weighed him down +like forty bullets. "Our cake is dough," he gasped. "Take him +dead, if you can't alive": and he left running, and followed at a +foot's pace. Jorian Ketel tailed off next; and then another, and +so, one by one, Gerard ran them all to a standstill, except one who +kept on stanch as a bloodhound, though losing ground every minute. +His name, if I am not mistaken, was Eric Wouverman. Followed +by him, they came to a rise in the wood, shorter, but much steeper +than the last.</p> + +<p>"Hand on mane!" cried Martin.</p> + +<p>Gerard obeyed, and the mule helped him up the hill faster even +than he was running before.</p> + +<p>At the sight of this manœuvre Dierich's man lost heart, and, +being now full eighty yards behind Gerard, and rather more than +that in advance of his nearest comrade, he pulled up short, and, +in obedience to Dierich's order, took down his crossbow, levelled it +deliberately, and just as the trio were sinking out of sight over +the crest of the hill, sent the bolt whizzing among them.</p> + +<p>There was a cry of dismay; and, next moment, as if a thunderbolt +had fallen on them, they were all lying on the ground, mule +and all.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE effect was so sudden and magical, that the shooter himself +was stupefied for an instant. Then he hailed his +companions to join him in effecting the capture, and himself +set off up the hill: but, ere he had got half way, up rose the figure +of Martin Wittenhaagen with a bent bow in his hand. Eric Wouverman +no sooner saw him in this attitude, than he darted behind a +tree, and made himself as small as possible. Martin's skill with +that weapon was well known, and the slain dog was a keen reminder +of it.</div> + +<p>Wouverman peered round the bark cautiously: there was the +arrow's point still aimed at him. He saw it shine. He dared not +move from his shelter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> + +<p>When he had been at peep-bo some minutes, his companions came +up in great force.</p> + +<p>Then with a scornful laugh, Martin vanished, and presently was +heard to ride off on the mule.</p> + +<p>All the men ran up together. The high ground commanded a +view of a narrow but almost interminable glade.</p> + +<p>They saw Gerard and Margaret running along at a prodigious +distance; they looked like gnats; and Martin galloping after them +<i>ventre à terre</i>.</p> + +<p>The hunters were outwitted as well as outrun. A few words will +explain Martin's conduct. We arrive at causes by noting coincidences: +yet, now and then, coincidences are deceitful. As we have +all seen a hare tumble over a briar just as the gun went off, and so +raise expectations, then dash them to earth by scudding away untouched, +so the burgomaster's mule put her foot in a rabbit-hole at +or about the time the cross-bow bolt whizzed innocuous over her +head: she fell and threw both her riders. Gerard caught Margaret, +but was carried down by her weight and impetus; and behold, the +soil was strewn with dramatis personæ.</p> + +<p>The docile mule was up again directly, and stood trembling. +Martin was next, and looking round saw there was but one in pursuit; +on this he made the young lovers fly on foot, while he checked the +enemy as I have recorded.</p> + +<p>He now galloped after his companions, and, when after a long race +he caught them, he instantly put Gerard and Margaret on the mule, +and ran by their side till his breath failed, then took his turn to ride, +and so in rotation. Thus the runner was always fresh, and, long +ere they relaxed their speed, all sound and trace of them was hopelessly +lost to Dierich and his men. These latter went crest-fallen +back to look after their chief, and their winged bloodhound.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>LIFE and liberty, while safe, are little thought of: for why? +they are matters of course. Endangered, they are rated at +their real value. In this, too, they are like sunshine, whose +beauty men notice not at noon when it is greatest, but towards +evening when it lies in flakes of topaz under shady elms. Yet it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +feebler then; but gloom lies beside it, and contrast reveals its fire. +Thus Gerard and Margaret, though they started at every leaf that +rustled louder than its fellows, glowed all over with joy and +thankfulness as they glided among the friendly trees in safety and +deep tranquil silence, baying dogs and brutal voices yet ringing in +their mind's ears.</div> + +<p>But presently Gerard found stains of blood on Margaret's ankles. +"Martin! Martin! help! they have wounded her: the crossbow!"</p> + +<p>"No, no," said Margaret, smiling to re-assure him. "I am not +wounded, nor hurt at all."</p> + +<p>"But what is it, then, in Heaven's name?" cried Gerard, in great +agitation.</p> + +<p>"Scold me not then!" and Margaret blushed.</p> + +<p>"Did I ever scold you?"</p> + +<p>"No, dear Gerard. Well, then, Martin said it was blood those +cruel dogs followed; so I thought, if I could but have a little blood +on my shoon, the dogs would follow me instead, and let my Gerard +wend free. So I scratched my arm with Martin's knife—forgive +me! Whose else could I take? Yours, Gerard? Ah, no. You +forgive me?" said she beseechingly, and lovingly and fawningly, +all in one.</p> + +<p>"Let me see this scratch first," said Gerard, choking with emotion. +"There, I thought so. A scratch? I call it a cut—a deep +terrible, cruel cut."</p> + +<p>Gerard shuddered at sight of it.</p> + +<p>"She might have done it with her bodkin," said the soldier. +"Milksop! that sickens at sight of a scratch and a little blood."</p> + +<p>"No, no. I could look on a sea of blood; but not on hers. Oh, +Margaret! how could you be so cruel?"</p> + +<p>Margaret smiled with love ineffable. "Foolish Gerard," murmured +she, "to make so much of nothing." And she flung the guilty +arm round his neck. "As if I would not give all the blood in my +heart for you, let alone a few drops from my arm." And, with +this, under the sense of his recent danger, she wept on his neck for +pity and love: and he wept with her.</p> + +<p>"And I must part from her," he sobbed, "we two that love so +dear—one must be in Holland, one in Italy. Ah me! ah me! ah +me!"</p> + +<p>At this Margaret wept afresh, but patiently and silently. Instinct<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +is never off its guard, and with her unselfishness was an instinct. +To utter her present thoughts would be to add to Gerard's misery +at parting, so she wept in silence.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they emerged upon a beaten path and Martin stopped.</p> + +<p>"This is the bridle-road I spoke of," said he, hanging his head, +"and there away lies the hostelry."</p> + +<p>Margaret and Gerard cast a scared look at one another.</p> + +<p>"Come a step with me, Martin," whispered Gerard. When he +had drawn him aside, he said to him in a broken voice, "Good Martin, +watch over her for me! She is my wife; yet I leave her. See Martin! +here is gold—it was for my journey; it is no use my asking her +to take it: she would not; but you will for her, will you not? Oh +Heaven! and is this all I can do for her? Money? But poverty +is a curse. You will not let her want for anything, dear Martin? +The burgomaster's silver is enough for me."</p> + +<p>"Thou art a good lad, Gerard. Neither want nor harm shall come +to her. I care more for her little finger than for all the world: and +were she nought to me, even for thy sake would I be a father to her. +Go with a stout heart, and God be with thee going and coming." +And the rough soldier wrung Gerard's hand, and turned his head +away, with unwonted feeling.</p> + +<p>After a moment's silence, he was for going back to Margaret; but +Gerard stopped him. "No, good Martin: prithee, stay here behind +this thicket, and turn your head away from us while I—Oh Martin! +Martin!"</p> + +<p>By this means Gerard escaped a witness of his anguish at leaving +her he loved, and Martin escaped a piteous sight. He did not see +the poor young things kneel and renew before Heaven those holy +vows cruel men had interrupted. He did not see them cling together +like one, and then try to part and fail, and return to one another, +and cling again, like drowning, despairing creatures. But he heard +Gerard sob, and sob, and Margaret moan.</p> + +<p>At last there was a hoarse cry, and feet pattered on the hard road.</p> + +<p>He started up, and there was Gerard running wildly, with both +hands clasped above his head, in prayer, and Margaret tottering back +towards him with palms extended piteously, as if for help, and ashy +cheek, and eyes fixed on vacancy.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>He caught her in his arms, and spoke words of comfort to her;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +but her mind could not take them in; only at the sound of his voice she +moaned and held him tight, and trembled violently.</p> + +<p>He got her on the mule, and put his arm round her, and so, supporting +her frame, which, from being strung like a bow, had now turned +all relaxed and powerless, he took her slowly and sadly home.</p> + +<p>She did not shed one tear, nor speak one word.</p> + +<p>At the edge of the wood he took her off the mule, and bade her go +across to her father's house. She did as she was bid.</p> + +<p>Martin to Rotterdam. Sevenbergen was too hot for him.</p> + +<p>Gerard, severed from her he loved, went like one in a dream. He +hired a horse and guide at the little hostelry, and rode swiftly +towards the German frontier. But all was mechanical; his senses +felt blunted; trees and houses and men moved by him like objects +seen through a veil. His companion spoke to him twice, but he did +not answer. Only once he cried out savagely, "Shall we never be +out of this hateful country?"</p> + +<p>After many hours' riding they came to the brow of a steep hill; +a small brook ran at the bottom.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" cried the guide, and pointed across the valley. "Here is +Germany."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"On t'other side of the bourn. No need to ride down the hill, I +trow."</p> + +<p>Gerard dismounted without a word, and took the burgomaster's +purse from his girdle: while he opened it, "You will soon be out of +this hateful country," said the guide, half sulkily; "mayhap the one +you are going to will like you no better: anyway, though it be a +church you have robbed, they cannot take you, once across that bourn."</p> + +<p>These words at another time would have earned the speaker an +admonition, or a cuff. They fell on Gerard now like idle air. He +paid the lad in silence, and descended the hill alone. The brook +was silvery: it ran murmuring over little pebbles, that glittered, +varnished by the clear water: he sat down and looked stupidly at +them. Then he drank of the brook: then he laved his hot feet and +hands in it; it was very cold: it waked him. He rose, and taking +a run, leaped across it into Germany. Even as he touched the +strange land he turned suddenly and looked back. "Farewell, ungrateful +country!" he cried. "But for <i>her</i> it would cost me nought +to leave you for ever, and all my kith and kin, and—the mother that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +bore me, and—my playmates, and my little native town. Farewell, +fatherland—welcome the wide world! omne so—lum for—ti p—p—at—ri—a." +And with these brave words in his mouth he drooped +suddenly with arms and legs all weak, and sat down and sobbed +bitterly upon the foreign soil.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>When the young exile had sat a while bowed down, he rose and +dashed the tears from his eyes like a man; and, not casting a single +glance more behind him to weaken his heart, stepped out into the +wide world.</p> + +<p>His love and heavy sorrow left no room in him for vulgar misgivings. +Compared with rending himself from Margaret, it seemed +a small thing to go on foot to Italy in that rude age.</p> + +<p>All nations meet in a convent; so thanks to his good friends the +monks, and his own thirst of knowledge, he could speak most of +the languages needed on that long road. He said to himself, "I will +soon be at Rome: the sooner the better, now."</p> + +<p>After walking a good league, he came to a place where four ways +met. Being country roads and serpentine, they had puzzled many +an inexperienced neighbor passing from village to village. Gerard +took out a little dial Peter had given him, and set it in the autumn +sun, and by this compass steered unhesitatingly for Rome; inexperienced +as a young swallow flying south, but, unlike the swallow, +wandering south alone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>NOT far on this road he came upon a little group. Two men +in sober suits stood leaning lazily on each side of a horse, +talking to one another. The rider, in a silk doublet and +bright green jerkin and hose, both of English cloth, glossy as a mole, +lay flat on his stomach in the afternoon sun, and looked an enormous +lizard. His velvet cloak (flaming yellow) was carefully spread +over the horse's loins.</div> + +<p>"Is aught amiss?" inquired Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Not that I wot of," replied one of the servants.</p> + +<p>"But your master, he lies like a corpse. Are ye not ashamed to +let him grovel on the ground?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go to, the bare ground is the best cure for his disorder. If you +get sober in bed it gives you a headache; but you leap up from the +hard ground like a lark in spring; eh, Ulric?"</p> + +<p>"He speaks sooth, young man," said Ulric, warmly.</p> + +<p>"What, is the gentleman drunk?"</p> + +<p>The servants burst into a hoarse laugh at the simplicity of Gerard's +question. But suddenly Ulric stopped, and eyeing him all over, said +very gravely, "Who are you, and where born, that know not the count +is ever drunk at this hour?" and Gerard found himself a suspected +character.</p> + +<p>"I am a stranger," said he, "but a true man, and one that loves +knowledge: therefore ask I questions, and not for love of prying."</p> + +<p>"If you be a true man," said Ulric, shrewdly, "then give us +trinkgeld for the knowledge we have given you."</p> + +<p>Gerard looked blank. But putting a good face on it, said, "Trinkgeld +you shall have, such as my lean purse can spare, an if you will +tell me why ye have ta'en his cloak from the man, and laid it on the +beast."</p> + +<p>Under the inspiring influence of coming trinkgeld two solutions +were instantly offered Gerard at once: the one was, that, should the +count come to himself (which, being a seasoned toper, he was apt to do +all in a minute), and find his horse standing sweating in the cold, +while a cloak lay idle at hand, he would fall to cursing, and peradventure +to laying on; the other, more pretentious, was, that a horse +is a poor milksop, which drinking nothing but water, has to be +cockered up and warmed outside; but a master, being a creature ever +filled with good beer, has a store of inward heat that warms him to +the skin, and renders a cloak a mere shred of idle vanity.</p> + +<p>Each of the speakers fell in love with his theory, and to tell the +truth, both had taken a hair or two of the dog that had bitten their +master to the brain: so their voices presently rose so high that the +green sot began to growl instead of snoring; in their heat they did +not notice this.</p> + +<p>Ere long the argument took a turn that sooner or later was pretty +sure to enliven a discussion in that age. Hans, holding the bridle +with his right hand, gave Ulric a sound cuff with his left; Ulric +returned it with interest, his right hand being free, and at it they +went ding dong over the horse's mane, pommelling one another, and +jagging the poor beast, till he ran backward and trode with iron heel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +upon a promontory of the green lord; he, like the toad stung by Ithuriel's +spear, started up howling, with one hand clapped to the smart +and the other tugging at his hilt. The servants, amazed with terror, +let the horse go; he galloped off whinnying, the men in pursuit of him +crying out with fear, and the green noble after them volleying curses, +his naked sword in his hand and his body rebounding from hedge to +hedge in his headlong but zigzag career down the narrow lane.</p> + +<p>"In which hurtling" Gerard turned his back on them all, and +went calmly south, glad to have saved the four tin farthings he had +got ready for trinkgeld, but far too heavy hearted even to smile at +their drunken extravagance.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The sun was nearly setting, and Gerard, who had now for some +time been hoping in vain to find an inn by the way, was very ill at +ease. To make matters worse, black clouds gathered over the sky.</p> + +<p>Gerard quickened his pace almost to a run.</p> + +<p>It was in vain: down came the rain in torrents, drenched the bewildered +traveller, and seemed to extinguish the very sun; for his +rays already fading could not cope with this new assailant. Gerard +trudged on, dark, and wet and in an unknown region. "Fool! to +leave Margaret," said he.</p> + +<p>Presently the darkness thickened.</p> + +<p>He was entering a great wood. Huge branches shot across the +narrow road, and the benighted stranger groped his way in what +seemed an interminable and inky cave with a rugged floor, on which +he stumbled and stumbled as he went.</p> + +<p>On, and on, and on, with shivering limbs, and empty stomach, and +fainting heart, till the wolves rose from their lairs and bayed all +round the wood.</p> + +<p>His hair bristled; but he grasped his cudgel, and prepared to +sell his life dear.</p> + +<p>There was no wind; and his excited ear heard light feet patter at +times over the newly fallen leaves, and low branches rustled with +creatures gliding swiftly past them.</p> + +<p>Presently in the sea of ink there was a great fiery star close to +the ground. He hailed it as he would his patron saint. "CANDLE! +a CANDLE!" he shouted, and tried to run; but the dark and +rugged way soon stopped that. The light was more distant than he +had thought; but at last in the very heart of the forest he found a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +house with lighted candles and loud voices inside it. He looked up +to see if there was a sign-board. There was none. "Not an inn, +after all," said he, sadly. "No matter; what Christian would turn a +dog out into the wood to-night?" and with this he made for the door +that led to the voices. He opened it slowly, and put his head in +timidly. He drew it out abruptly, as if slapped in the face, and recoiled +into the rain and darkness.</p> + +<p>He had peeped into a large but low room, the middle of which was +filled by a huge round stove or clay oven that reached to the ceiling; +round this wet clothes were drying, some on lines, and some more compendiously +on rustics: these latter habiliments, impregnated with the +wet of the day, but the dirt of a life, and lined with what another foot +traveller in these parts calls "rammish clowns," evolved rank vapours +and compound odours inexpressible, in steaming clouds.</p> + +<p>In one corner was a travelling family, a large one: thence flowed +into the common stock the peculiar sickly smell of neglected brats. +Garlic filled up the interstices of the air. And all this with closed +window, and intense heat of the central furnace, and the breath of at +least forty persons.</p> + +<p>They had just supped.</p> + +<p>Now Gerard, like most artists, had sensitive organs, and the potent +effluvia struck dismay into him. But the rain lashed him outside, and +the light and the fire tempted him in.</p> + +<p>He could not force his way all at once through the palpable perfumes; +but he returned to the light again and again like the singed +moth. At last he discovered that the various smells did not entirely +mix, no fiend being there to stir them round. Odour of family predominated +in two corners, stewed rustic reigned supreme in the centre, +and garlic in the noisy group by the window. He found too, by hasty +analysis, that of these the garlic described the smallest aërial orbit, +and the scent of reeking rustic darted farthest; a flavour, as if ancient +goats or the fathers of all foxes, had been drawn through a river, and +were here dried by Nebuchadnezzar.</p> + +<p>So Gerard crept into a corner close to the door. But though the +solidity of the main fetors isolated them somewhat, the heat and reeking +vapours circulated and made the walls drip: and the home-nurtured +novice found something like a cold snake wind about his +legs, and his head turn to a great lump of lead; and next he felt like +choking, sweetly slumbering, and dying, all in one.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span></p> + +<p>He was within an ace of swooning, but recovered to a deep sense +of disgust and discouragement, and settled to go back to Holland at +peep of day: this resolution formed, he plucked up a little heart, and, +being faint with hunger, asked one of the men of garlic whether this +was not an inn after all?</p> + +<p>"Whence come you who know not 'The Star of the Forest?'" was +the reply.</p> + +<p>"I am a stranger; and in my country inns have aye a sign."</p> + +<p>"Droll country yours! What need of a sign to a public-house, a +place that every soul knows?"</p> + +<p>Gerard was too tired and faint for the labour of argument: so he +turned the conversation, and asked where he could find the landlord.</p> + +<p>At this fresh display of ignorance the native's contempt rose too +high for words; he pointed to a middle-aged woman seated on the +other side of the oven, and, turning to his mates, let them know what +an outlandish animal was in the room. Thereat the loud voices +stopped one by one, as the information penetrated the mass, and each +eye turned as on a pivot, following Gerard, and his every movement, +silently and zoologically.</p> + +<p>The landlady sat on a chair an inch or two higher than the rest, between +two bundles. From the first, a huge heap of feathers and +wings, she was taking the downy plumes, and pulling the others from +the quills, and so filling bundle two; littering the floor ankle deep, and +contributing to the general stock a stuffy little malaria, which might +have played a distinguished part in a sweet room, but went for nothing +here. Gerard asked her if he could have something to eat.</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes with astonishment. "Supper is over this +hour and more."</p> + +<p>"But I had none of it, good dame."</p> + +<p>"Is that my fault? You are welcome to your share for me."</p> + +<p>"But I was benighted, and a stranger, and belated sore against my +will."</p> + +<p>"What have I to do with that? All the world knows 'the Star of the +Forest' sups from six till eight. Come before six, ye sup well; come +before eight, ye sup as pleases Heaven; come after eight, ye get a +clean bed, and a stirrup cup, or a horn of kine's milk at the dawning."</p> + +<p>Gerard looked blank. "May I go to bed then, dame?" said he +sulkily, "for it is ill sitting up wet and fasting, and the byword +saith 'he sups who sleeps.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The beds are not come yet," replied the landlady: "you will sleep +when the rest do. Inns are not built for <i>one</i>."</p> + +<p>It was Gerard's turn to be astonished. "The beds were not come: +what in Heaven's name did she mean?" But he was afraid to ask, +for every word he had spoken hitherto had amazed the assembly; and +zoological eyes were upon him—he felt them. He leaned against the +wall and sighed audibly.</p> + +<p>At this fresh zoological trait a titter went round the watchful company.</p> + +<p>"So this is Germany," thought Gerard, "and Germany is a great +country by Holland. Small nations for me."</p> + +<p>He consoled himself by reflecting it was to be his last, as well as his +first, night in the land. His reverie was interrupted by an elbow +driven into his ribs. He turned sharp on his assailant; who pointed +across the room. Gerard looked, and a woman in the corner was +beckoning him. He went towards her gingerly, being surprised and +irresolute, so that to a spectator her beckoning finger seemed to be +pulling him across the floor with a gut line. When he had got up to +her, "hold the child," said she in a fine hearty voice and in a moment +she plumped the bairn into Gerard's arms.</p> + +<p>He stood transfixed, jelly of lead in his hands, and sudden horror +in his elongated countenance.</p> + +<p>At this ruefully expressive face the lynx-eyed conclave laughed +loud and long.</p> + +<p>"Never heed them," said the woman cheerfully: "they know no +better; how should they, bred an' born in a wood?" She was rummaging +among her clothes with the two penetrating hands, one of +which Gerard had set free. Presently she fished out a small tin plate +and a dried pudding, and resuming her child with one arm, held them +forth to Gerard with the other, keeping a thumb on the pudding to +prevent it from slipping off.</p> + +<p>"Put it in the stove," said she, "you are too young to lie down +fasting."</p> + +<p>Gerard thanked her warmly: but on his way to the stove his eye fell +on the landlady. "<i>May</i> I dame?" said he beseechingly.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said she.</p> + +<p>The question was evidently another surprise, though less startling +than its predecessors.</p> + +<p>Coming to the stove, Gerard found the oven door obstructed by "the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +rammish clowns." They did not budge. He hesitated a moment: +the landlady saw, calmly put down her work, and coming up pulled a +hircine man or two hither, and pushed a hircine man or two thither, +with the impassive countenance of a housewife moving her furniture. +"Turn about is fair play," she said. "Ye have been dry this ten +minutes and better."</p> + +<p>Her experienced eye was not deceived; Gorgonii had done stewing, +and begun baking. Debarred the stove they trundled home all but +one, who stood like a table where the landlady had moved him to +like a table, and Gerard baked his pudding, and, getting to the stove, +burst into steam.</p> + +<p>The door opened, and in flew a bundle of straw.</p> + +<p>It was hurled by a hind with a pitchfork; another and another +came flying after it till the room was like a clean farm yard. These +were then dispersed round the stove in layers like the seats in an +arena, and in a moment the company was all on its back.</p> + +<p>The beds had come.</p> + +<p>Gerard took out his pudding and found it delicious. While he was +relishing it, the woman who had given it him, and who was now abed, +beckoned him again. He went to her bundle side. "She is waiting +for you," whispered the woman. Gerard returned to the stove, and +gobbled the rest of his sausage, casting uneasy glances at the landlady +seated silent as fate amid the prostrate multitude. The food bolted, +he went to her and said, "Thank you kindly, dame, for waiting for +me."</p> + +<p>"You are welcome," said she calmly, making neither much nor little +of the favour; and with that began to gather up the feathers; but Gerard +stopped her. "Nay, that is my task;" and he went down on his +knees and collected them with ardour. She watched him demurely.</p> + +<p>"I wot not whence ye come," said she with a relic of distrust; adding +more cordially, "but ye have been well brought up; y' have had a +good mother, I'll go bail."</p> + +<p>At the door she committed the whole company to Heaven in a formula, +and disappeared. Gerard to his straw in the very corner, for +the guests lay round the sacred stove by seniority, <i>i. e.</i> priority of +arrival.</p> + +<p>This punishment was a boon to Gerard, for thus he lay on the shore +of odour and stifling heat, instead of in mid ocean.</p> + +<p>He was just dropping off, when he was awaked by a noise, and lo!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +there was the hind remorselessly shaking and waking guest after guest +to ask him whether it was he who had picked up the mistress's +feathers.</p> + +<p>"It was I," cried Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it was you was it?" said the other, and came striding rapidly +over the intermediate sleepers. "She bade me say, 'One good turn +deserves another,' and so here's your night-cap," and he thrust a great +oaken mug under Gerard's nose.</p> + +<p>"I thank her and bless her, here goes—ugh!" and his gratitude +ended in a wry face, for the beer was muddy, and had a strange medicinal +twang new to the Hollander.</p> + +<p>"Trinke aus!" shouted the hind reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Enow is as good as a feast," said the youth, Jesuitically.</p> + +<p>The hind cast a look of pity on this stranger who left liquor in his +mug. "Ich brings euch," said he and drained it to the bottom.</p> + +<p>And now Gerard turned his face to the wall and pulled up two +handfuls of the nice clean straw, and bored in them with his finger, +and so made a scabbard, and sheathed his nose in it. And soon they +were all asleep: men, maids, wives, and children, all lying higgledy-piggledy, +and snoring in a dozen keys like an orchestra slowly tuning; +and Gerard's body lay on straw in Germany, and his spirit was +away to Sevenbergen.</p> + +<p>When he woke in the morning he found nearly all his fellow-passengers +gone. One or two were waiting for dinner, nine o'clock: +it was now six. He paid the landlady her demand, two pfenning, +or about an English halfpenny and he of the pitchfork demanded +trinkgeld, and getting a trifle more than usual, and seeing Gerard eye +a foaming milk-pail he had just brought from the cow, hoisted it up +bodily to his lips. "Drink your fill, man," said he, and on Gerard +offering to pay for the delicious draught, told him in broad patois, +that a man might swallow a skinful of milk, or a breakfast of air, +without putting hand to pouch. At the door Gerard found his benefactress +of last night, and a huge-chested artisan, her husband.</p> + +<p>Gerard thanked her, and in the spirit of the age offered her a creutzer +for her pudding.</p> + +<p>But she repulsed his hand quietly. "For what do you take me?" +said she, colouring faintly; "we are travellers and strangers the same +as you, and bound to feel for those in like plight."</p> + +<p>Then Gerard blushed in his turn and stammered excuses.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span></p> + +<p>The hulking husband grinned superior to them both.</p> + +<p>"Give the vixen a kiss for her pudding, and cry quits," said he +with an air impartial, judge-like and Jove-like.</p> + +<p>Gerard obeyed the loftly behest, and kissed the wife's cheek. "A +blessing go with you both, good people," said he.</p> + +<p>"And God speed you, young man!" replied the honest couple: and +with that they parted; and never met again in this world.</p> + +<p>The sun had just risen: the rain-drops on the leaves glittered like +diamonds. The air was fresh and bracing, and Gerard steered +south, and did not even remember his resolve of over night.</p> + +<p>Eight leagues he walked that day, and in the afternoon came upon +a huge building with an enormous arched gateway and a postern by +its side.</p> + +<p>"A monastery!" cried he joyfully; "I go no further lest I fare +worse." He applied at the postern, and, on stating whence he came +and whither bound, was instantly admitted and directed to the guest +chamber, a large and lofty room, where travellers were fed and lodged +gratis by the charity of the monastic orders. Soon the bell tinkled +for vespers, and Gerard entered the church of the convent and from +his place heard a service sung so exquisitely it seemed the choir of +heaven. But one thing was wanting, Margaret was not there to hear +it with him, and this made him sigh bitterly amid rapture. At supper, +plain but wholesome and abundant food, and good beer, +brewed in the convent, were set before him and his fellows, and +at an early hour they were ushered into a large dormitory, and, the +number being moderate, had each a truckle bed, and for covering +sheepskins dressed with the fleece on: but previously to this a monk, +struck by his youth and beauty, questioned him, and soon drew out +his projects and his heart. When he was found to be convent bred +and going alone to Rome, he became a personage, and in the morning +they showed him over the convent and made him stay and dine in the +refectory. They also pricked him a route on a slip of parchment, and +the prior gave him a silver guilden to help him on the road, and +advised him to join the first honest company he should fall in with, +"and not face alone the manifold perils of the way."</p> + +<p>"Perils?" said Gerard to himself.</p> + +<p>That evening he came to a small straggling town where was one +inn. It had no sign; but being now better versed in the customs of +the country he detected it at once by the coats of arms on its walls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +These belonged to the distinguished visitors who had slept in it at +different epochs since its foundation, and left these customary tokens +of their patronage. At present it looked more like a mausoleum than +a hotel. Nothing moved nor sounded either in it, or about it. Gerard +hammered on the great oak door: no answer. He hallooed: no +reply. After a while he hallooed louder, and at last a little round +window or rather hole in the wall, opened, a man's head protruded +cautiously, like a tortoise's from its shell, and eyed Gerard stolidly, +but never uttered a syllable.</p> + +<p>"Is this an inn?" asked Gerard with a covert sneer.</p> + +<p>The head seemed to fall into a brown study; eventually it nodded, +but lazily.</p> + +<p>"Can I have entertainment here?"</p> + +<p>Again the head pondered and ended by nodding, but sullenly, and +seemed a skull overburdened with catch-penny interrogatories.</p> + +<p>"How am I to get within, an't please you?"</p> + +<p>At this the head popped in, as if the last question had shot it; +and a hand popped out, pointed round the corner of the building, and +slammed the window.</p> + +<p>Gerard followed the indication, and after some research discovered +that the fortification had one vulnerable part, a small, low +door on its flank. As for the main entrance, that was used to keep +out thieves and customers, except once or twice in a year, when they +entered together, <i>i. e.</i> when some duke or count arrived in pomp with +his train of gaudy ruffians.</p> + +<p>Gerard, having penetrated the outer fort, soon found his way to the +stove (as the public room was called from the principal article in it), +and sat down near the oven, in which were only a few live embers that +diffused a mild and grateful heat.</p> + +<p>After waiting patiently a long time, he asked a grim old fellow with +a long white beard, who stalked solemnly in, and turned the hour-glass +and then was stalking out—when supper would be. The grisly +Ganymede counted the guests on his fingers—"When I see thrice as +many here as now." Gerard groaned.</p> + +<p>The grisly tyrant resented the rebellious sound. "Inns are not +built for one," said he; "if you can't wait for the rest, look out for +another lodging."</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed.</p> + +<p>At this the greybeard frowned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> + +<p>After a while company trickled steadily in, till full eighty persons +of various conditions were congregated, and to our novice the place +became a chamber of horrors; for here the mothers got together +and compared ringworms, and the men scraped the mud off their +shoes with their knives, and left it on the floor, and combed their +long hair out, inmates included, and made their toilet, consisting +generally of a dry rub. Water, however, was brought in ewers. +Gerard pounced on one of these, but at sight of the liquid contents +lost his temper and said to the waiter, "Wash you first your water, +and then a man may wash his hands withal."</p> + +<p>"An it likes you not, seek another inn!"</p> + +<p>Gerard said nothing, but went quietly and courteously besought +an old traveller to tell him how far it was to the next inn.</p> + +<p>"About four leagues."</p> + +<p>Then Gerard appreciated the grim pleasantry of th' unbending +sire.</p> + +<p>That worthy now returned with an armful of wood, and, counting +the travellers, put on a log for every six, by which act of +raw justice the hotter the room the more heat he added. Poor +Gerard noticed this little flaw in the ancient man's logic, but carefully +suppressed every symptom of intelligence, lest his feet should +have to carry his brains four leagues farther that night.</p> + +<p>When perspiration and suffocation were far advanced, they brought +in the table-cloths; but oh, so brown, so dirty, and so coarse: they +seemed like sacks that had been worn out in agriculture and come +down to this, or like shreds from the mainsail of some worn-out ship. +The Hollander, who had never seen such linen even in nightmare, +uttered a faint cry.</p> + +<p>"What is to do?" inquired a traveller. Gerard pointed ruefully +to the dirty sackcloth. The other looked at it with lack-lustre +eye, and comprehended nought.</p> + +<p>A Burgundian soldier with his arbalest at his back came peeping +over Gerard's shoulder, and, seeing what was amiss, laughed so +loud that the room rang again, then slapped him on the back and +cried, "Courage! le diable est mort."</p> + +<p>Gerard stared: he doubted alike the good tidings and their relevancy: +but the tones were so hearty and the arbalestrier's face, +notwithstanding a formidable beard, was so gay and genial, that +he smiled, and after a pause said drily, "Il a bien fait: avec l'eau<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +et linge du pays on allait le noircir à ne se reconnaître plus."</p> + +<p>"Tiens, tiens!" cried the soldier, "v'là qui parle le Français, peu +s'en faut," and he seated himself by Gerard, and in a moment +was talking volubly of war, women, and pillage, interlarding his +discourse with curious oaths, at which Gerard drew away from him +more or less.</p> + +<p>Presently in came the grisly servant, and counted them all on +his fingers superciliously, like Abraham telling sheep, then went +out again and returned with a deal trencher and deal spoon to +each.</p> + +<p>Then there was an interval. Then he brought them a long mug +apiece made of glass, and frowned. By and bye he stalked gloomily +in with a hunch of bread apiece, and exited with an injured air. Expectation +thus raised, the guests sat for nearly an hour balancing the +wooden spoons, and with their own knives whittling the bread. Eventually +when hope was extinct, patience worn out, and hunger exhausted, +a huge vessel was brought in with pomp, the lid was removed, +a cloud of steam rolled forth, and behold some thin broth +with square pieces of bread floating. This, though not agreeable +to the mind, served to distend the body. Slices of Strasbourg +ham followed, and pieces of salt fish, both so highly salted that +Gerard could hardly swallow a mouthful. Then came a kind of +gruel, and, when the repast had lasted an hour and more some +hashed meat highly peppered: and the French and Dutch being now +full to the brim with the above dainties, and the draughts of beer +the salt and spiced meats had provoked, in came roasted kids, most +excellent, and carp and trout fresh from the stream. Gerard made +an effort and looked angrily at them, but "could no more" as the +poets say. The Burgundian swore by the liver and pike-staff of +the good centurion, the natives had outwitted him. Then turning +to Gerard, he said, "Courage, l'ami, le diable est mort," as loudly +as before, but not with the same tone of conviction. The canny +natives had kept an internal corner for contingencies, and polished +the kids' very bones.</p> + +<p>The feast ended with a dish of raw animalcula in a wicker cage. +A cheese had been surrounded with little twigs and strings; then a +hole made in it and a little sour wine poured in. This speedily bred +a small but numerous vermin. When the cheese was so rotten with +them that only the twigs and string kept it from tumbling to pieces<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +and walking off quadrivious, it came to table. By a malicious caprice +of fate cage and menagerie were put down right under the Dutchman's +organ of self-torture. He recoiled with a loud ejaculation, +and hung to the bench by the calves of his legs.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter?" said a traveller disdainfully. "Does the +good cheese scare ye? Then put it hither, in the name of all the +saints!"</p> + +<p>"Cheese!" cried Gerard, "I see none. These nauseous reptiles +have made away with every bit of it."</p> + +<p>"Well," replied another, "It is not gone far. By eating of the +mites we eat the cheese to boot."</p> + +<p>"Nay, not so," said Gerard. "These reptiles are made like us, +and digest their food and turn it to foul flesh even as we do ours to +sweet: as well might you think to chew grass by eating of grass-fed +beeves, as to eat cheese by swallowing these uncleanly insects."</p> + +<p>Gerard raised his voice in uttering this, and the company received +the paradox in dead silence, and with a distrustful air, like any +other stranger, during which the Burgundian, who understood German +but imperfectly, made Gerard Gallicise the discussion. He +patted his interpreter on the back. "C'est bien, mon gars: plus fin +que toi n'est pas bête," and administered his formula of encouragement; +and Gerard edged away from him; for next to ugly sights +and ill odours the poor wretch disliked profaneness.</p> + +<p>Meantime, though shaken in argument, the raw reptiles were duly +eaten and relished by the company, and served to provoke thirst, a +principal aim of all the solids in that part of Germany. So now +the company drank "garausses" all around, and their tongues were +unloosed, and oh the Babel! But above the fierce clamour rose +at intervals like some hero's war cry in battle, the trumpet-like voice +of the Burgundian soldier shouting lustily "Courage, camarades, le +diable est mort!"</p> + +<p>Entered grisly Ganymede holding in his hand a wooden dish with +circles and semicircles marked on it in chalk. He put it down on +the table and stood silent, sad, and sombre, as Charon by Styx waiting +for his boat-load of souls. Then pouches and purses were rummaged, +and each threw a coin into the dish. Gerard timidly observed +that he had drunk next to no beer, and inquired how much +less he was to pay than the others.</p> + +<p>"What mean you?" said Ganymede roughly. "Whose fault is it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> +you have not drunken? Are all to suffer because one chooses to be +a milksop? You will pay no more than the rest and no less."</p> + +<p>Gerard was abashed.</p> + +<p>"Courage, petit, le diable est mort," hiccoughed the soldier, and +flung Ganymede a coin.</p> + +<p>"You are as bad as he is," said the old man peevishly, "you are +paying too much;" and the tyrannical old Aristides returned him +some coin out of the trencher with a most reproachful countenance. +And now the man, whom Gerard had confuted an hour and a half +ago, awoke from a brown study, in which he had been ever since, +and came to him and said, "<i>Yes:</i> but the honey is none the worse for +passing through the bees' bellies."</p> + +<p>Gerard stared. The answer had been so long on the road he hadn't +an idea what it was an answer to. Seeing him dumbfoundered, the +other concluded him confuted, and withdrew calmed.</p> + +<p>The bedrooms were upstairs dungeons with not a scrap of furniture +except the bed, and a male servant settled inexorably who should +sleep with whom. Neither money nor prayers would get a man +a bed to himself here: custom forbade it sternly. You might as +well have asked to monopolize a see-saw. They assigned to Gerard +a man with a great black beard. He was an honest fellow enough; +but not perfect; he would <i>not</i> go to bed, and <i>would</i> sit on the edge of +it telling the wretched Gerard by force, and at length, the events +of the day, and alternately laughing and crying at the same circumstances, +which were not in the smallest degree pathetic or humorous, +but only dead trivial. At last Gerard put his fingers in his ears, and +lying down in his clothes for the sheets were too dirty for him to +undress, contrived to sleep. But in an hour or two he awoke cold, +and found that his drunken companion had got all the feather bed; +so mighty is instinct. They lay between two beds; the lower one +hard and made of straw, the upper soft and filled with feathers +light as down. Gerard pulled at it, but the experienced drunkard +held it fast mechanically. Gerard tried to twitch it away by surprise; +but instinct was too many for him. On this he got out of bed, and, +kneeling down on his bed-fellow's unguarded side easily whipped the +prize away and rolled with it under the bed, and there lay on one +edge of it, and curled the rest round his shoulders. Before he slept +he often heard something grumbling and growling above him, which +was some little satisfaction. Thus Instinct was outwitted, and victorious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +Reason lay chuckling on feathers, and not quite choked with +dust.</p> + +<p>At peep of day Gerard rose, flung the feather bed upon his snoring +companion, and went in search of milk and air.</p> + +<p>A cheerful voice hailed him in French: "What ho! you are up +with the sun, comrade."</p> + +<p>"He rises betimes that lies in a dog's lair," answered Gerard, +crossly.</p> + +<p>"Courage, l'ami! le diable est mort," was the instant reply. The +soldier then told him his name was Denys, and he was passing from +Flushing in Zealand to the duke's French dominions; a change the +more agreeable to him, as he should revisit his native place, and a +host of pretty girls who had wept at his departure, and should hear +French spoken again. "And who are you, and whither bound?"</p> + +<p>"My name is Gerard, and I am going to Rome," said the more +reserved Hollander, and in a way that invited no further confidences.</p> + +<p>"All the better; we will go together as far as Burgundy."</p> + +<p>"That is not my road."</p> + +<p>"All roads take to Rome."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but the shortest road thither is my way."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, it is I who must go out of my way a step for the +sake of good company, for thy face likes me, and thou speakest +French, or nearly."</p> + +<p>"There go two words to that bargain," said Gerard, coldly. "I +steer by proverbs too. They do put old heads on young men's shoulders. +'Bon loup mauvais compagnon, dit le brebis:' and a soldier, +they say, is near akin to a wolf."</p> + +<p>"They lie," said Denys: "besides, if he is, 'les loups nese mangent +pas entre eux.'"</p> + +<p>"Ay, but, sir soldier, I am not a wolf; and, thou knowest, 'à bien +petite occasion se saisit le loup du mouton.'"</p> + +<p>"Let us drop wolves and sheep, being men; my meaning is, that +a good soldier never pillages—a comrade. Come, young man, too +much suspicion becomes not your years. They who travel should +learn to read faces; methinks you might see lealty in mine sith I have +seen it in yourn. Is it yon fat purse at your girdle you fear for?" +(Gerard turned pale.) "Look hither!" and he undid his belt, and +poured out of it a double handful of gold pieces, then returned them +to their hiding place. "There is a hostage for you," said he; "carry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +you that, and let us be comrades," and handed him his belt, gold +and all.</p> + +<p>Gerard stared. "If I am over prudent, you have not +enow." But he flushed and looked pleased at the other's trust +in him.</p> + +<p>"Bah! I can read faces; and so must you, or you'll never take +your four bones safe to Rome."</p> + +<p>"Soldier, you would find me a dull companion, for my heart is +very heavy," said Gerard, yielding.</p> + +<p>"I'll cheer you, mon gars."</p> + +<p>"I think you would," said Gerard sweetly; "and sore need have +I of a kindly voice in mine ear this day."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no soul is sad alongside me. I lift up their poor little hearts +with my consigne: 'Courage, tout le monde, le diable est mort.' +Ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"So be it then," said Gerard. "But take back your belt, for I +could never trust by halves. We will go together as far as Rhine, +and God go with us both!"</p> + +<p>"Amen!" said Denys, and lifted his cap. "En avant!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The pair trudged manfully on, and Denys enlivened the weary +way. He chattered about battles and sieges, and things which were +new to Gerard; and he was one of those who <i>make</i> little incidents +wherever they go. He passed nobody without addressing him. +"They don't understand it, but it wakes them up," said he. But, +whenever they fell in with a monk or priest, he pulled a long face, +and sought the reverend father's blessing, and fearlessly poured out +on him floods of German words in such order as not to produce a +single German sentence. He doffed his cap to every woman, high +or low, he caught sight of, and with eagle eye discerned her best +feature, and complimented her on it in his native tongue, well adapted +to such matters: and, at each carrion crow or magpie, down came +his cross-bow, and he would go a furlong off the road to circumvent +it; and indeed he did shoot one old crow with laudable neatness and +despatch, and carried it to the nearest hen-roost, and there slipped in +and set it upon a nest. "The good-wife will say, 'Alack, here is +Beelzebub a hatching of my eggs.'"</p> + +<p>"No, you forget, he is dead," objected Gerard.</p> + +<p>"So he is, so he is. But she doesn't know that, not having the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +luck to be acquainted with me, who carry the good news from city +to city, uplifting men's hearts."</p> + +<p>Such was Denys in time of peace.</p> + +<p>Our travellers towards nightfall reached a village; it was a very +small one, but contained a place of entertainment. They searched +for it, and found a small house with barn and stables. In the +former was the everlasting stove, and the clothes drying round it +on lines, and a traveller or two sitting morose. Gerard asked for +supper. "Supper? We have no time to cook for travellers; we +only provide lodging, good lodging for man and beast. You can +have some beer."</p> + +<p>"Madman, who, born in Holland, sought other lands!" snorted +Gerard in Dutch. The landlady started.</p> + +<p>"What gibberish is that?" asked she, and crossed herself with +looks of superstitious alarm. "You can buy what you like in the +village, and cook it in our oven; but, prithee, mutter no charms nor +sorceries here, good man; don't ye now, it do make my flesh creep so."</p> + +<p>They scoured the village for food, and ended by supping on roasted +eggs and brown bread.</p> + +<p>At a very early hour their chambermaid came for them. It was +a rosy-cheeked old fellow with a lanthorn.</p> + +<p>They followed him. He led them across a dirty farm-yard, where +they had much ado to pick their steps, and brought them into a +cow-house. There, on each side of every cow, was laid a little clean +straw, and a tied bundle of ditto for a pillow. The old man looked +down on this his work with paternal pride. Not so Gerard. "What, +do you set Christian men to lie among cattle?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it is hard upon the poor beasts. They have scarce room +to turn."</p> + +<p>"Oh! what, it is not hard on us then?"</p> + +<p>"Where is the hardship? I have lain among them all my life. +Look at me! I am four score, and never had a headache in all my +born days—all along of lying among the kye. Bless your silly head, +kine's breath is ten times sweeter to drink nor Christians'. You +try it!" and he slammed the bedroom door.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Denys, where are you?" whined Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Here, on her other side."</p> + +<p>"What are you doing?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I know not. But, as near as I can guess, I think I must be +going to sleep. What are you at?"</p> + +<p>"I am saying my prayers."</p> + +<p>"Forget me not in them!"</p> + +<p>"Is it likely? Denys I shall soon have done: do not go to +sleep, I want to talk."</p> + +<p>"Despatch then! for I feel—augh—like—like—floating—in the +sky—on a warm cloud."</p> + +<p>"Denys!"</p> + +<p>"Augh! eh! hallo! is it time to get up?"</p> + +<p>"Alack, no. There, I hurried my orisons to talk; and look at +you, going to sleep! We shall be starved before morning, having +no coverlets."</p> + +<p>"Well, you know what to do."</p> + +<p>"Not I, in sooth."</p> + +<p>"Cuddle the cow."</p> + +<p>"Thank you."</p> + +<p>"Burrow in the straw then. You must be very new to the world, +to grumble at this. How would you bear to lie on the field of +battle on a frosty night, as I did t'other day, stark naked, with +nothing to keep me warm but the carcass of a fellow I had been +and helped kill?"</p> + +<p>"Horrible! horrible! Tell me all about it! Oh but this is +sweet."</p> + +<p>"Well, we had a little battle in Brabant, and won a little victory, +but it cost us dear: several arbalestriers turned their toes up, and I +among them."</p> + +<p>"Killed, Denys? come now!"</p> + +<p>"Dead as mutton. Stuck full of pike-holes till the blood ran out +of me, like the good wine of Mâcon from the trodden grapes. It +is right bounteous in me to pour the tale in minstrel phrase for—augh—I +am sleepy. Augh—now where was I?"</p> + +<p>"Left dead on the field of battle, bleeding like a pig; that is to +say like grapes, or something; go on, prithee go on, 'tis a sin to +sleep in the midst of a good story."</p> + +<p>"Granted. Well, some of those vagabonds, that strip the dead +soldier on the field of glory, came and took every rag off me; they +wrought me no further ill, because there was no need."</p> + +<p>"No: you were dead."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span></p> + +<p>"C'est convenu. This must have been at sundown; and with +the night came a shrewd frost that barkened the blood on my wounds, +and stopped all the rivulets that were running from my heart, and +about midnight I awoke as from a trance."</p> + +<p>"And thought you were in heaven?" asked Gerard eagerly, being +a youth inoculated with monkish tales.</p> + +<p>"Too frost bitten for that, mon gars; besides, I heard the wounded +groaning on all sides; so I knew I was in the old place. I saw I +could not live the night through without cover. I groped about +shivering and shivering; at last one did suddenly leave groaning. +'You are sped,' said I, so made up to him, and true enough he was +dead, but warm, you know. I took my lord in my arms; but was +too weak to carry him: so rolled with him into a ditch hard by: +and there my comrades found me in the morning properly stung +with nettles and hugging a dead Fleming for the bare life."</p> + +<p>Gerard shuddered. "And this is war; this is the chosen +theme of poets and troubadours, and Reden Ryckers. Truly was it +said by the men of old 'dulce bellum <i>inexpertis</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"Tu dis?"</p> + +<p>"I say,—oh what stout hearts some men have!"</p> + +<p>"N'est-ce pas, p'tit? So after that sort—thing—this sort thing +is heaven. Soft—warm—good company comradancow—cou'age—diable—m—ornk!"</p> + +<p>And the glib tongue was still for some hours.</p> + +<p>In the morning Gerard was wakened by a liquid hitting his eye, +and it was Denys employing the cow's udder as a squirt.</p> + +<p>"Oh fie!" cried Gerard, "to waste the good milk:" and he took a +horn out of his wallet. "Fill this! but indeed I see not what right +we have to meddle with her milk at all."</p> + +<p>"Make your mind easy! Last night la camarade was not nice; +but what then, true friendship dispenses with ceremony. To-day +we make as free with her."</p> + +<p>"Why what did she do, poor thing?"</p> + +<p>"Ate my pillow."</p> + +<p>"Ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"On waking I had to hunt for my head, and found it down in +the stable gutter. She ate our pillow from us, we drink our pillow +from her. A votre santé, madame; et sans rancune;" and the dog +drank her to her own health.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The ancient was right though," said Gerard. "Never have +I risen so refreshed since I left my native land. Henceforth let +us shun great towns, and still lie in a convent or a cow-house; for +I'd liever sleep on fresh straw than on linen well washed six months +agone; and the breath of kine it is sweeter than that of Christians, +let alone the garlic, which men and women folk affect, but cowen +abhor from, and so do I, St. Bavon be my witness!"</p> + +<p>The soldier eyed him from head to foot: "Now but for that little +tuft on your chin I should take you for a girl: and by the fingernails +of St. Luke, no ill-favoured one neither."</p> + +<p>These three towns proved types and repeated themselves with +slight variations for many a weary league: but, even when he could +get neither a convent nor a cow-house, Gerard learned in time to +steel himself to the inevitable, and to emulate his comrade, whom +he looked on as almost superhuman for hardihood of body and spirit.</p> + +<p>There was however a balance to all this veneration.</p> + +<p>Denys, like his predecessor Achilles, had his weak part, his very +weak part thought Gerard.</p> + +<p>His foible was "woman."</p> + +<p>Whatever he was saying or doing, he stopped short at sight of a +farthingale, and his whole soul became occupied with that garment +and its inmate till they had disappeared; and sometimes for a +good while after.</p> + +<p>He often put Gerard to the blush by talking his amazing German +to such females as he caught standing or sitting indoors or out; +at which they stared; and when he met a peasant girl on the road, +he took off his cap to her and saluted her as if she was a queen. The +invariable effect of which was, that she suddenly drew herself up +quite stiff like a soldier on parade, and wore a forbidding countenance.</p> + +<p>"They drive me to despair," said Denys. "Is that a just return +to a civil bonnetade? They are large, they are fair, but stupid as +swans."</p> + +<p>"What breeding can you expect from women that wear no hose?" +inquired Gerard; "and some of them no shoon? They seem to me +reserved, and modest, as becomes their sex; and sober, whereas the +men are little better than beer-barrels. Would you have them brazen +as well as hoseless?"</p> + +<p>"A little affability adorns even beauty," sighed Denys.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Then let them alone, sith they are not to your taste," retorted +Gerard. "What, is there no sweet face in Bergundy that would +pale to see you so wrapped up in strange women?"</p> + +<p>"Half a dozen that would cry their eyes out."</p> + +<p>"Well then!"</p> + +<p>"But it is a long way to Burgundy."</p> + +<p>"Ay, to the foot, but not to the heart. I am there, sleeping and +waking, and almost every minute of the day."</p> + +<p>"In Burgundy? Why I thought you had never—"</p> + +<p>"In Burgundy?" cried Gerard contemptuously. "No, in sweet +Sevenbergen. Ah! well-a-day! well-a-day!"</p> + +<p>Many such dialogues as this passed between the pair on the long +and weary road, and neither could change the other.</p> + +<p>One day about noon they reached a town of some pretensions and +Gerard was glad, for he wanted to buy a pair of shoes: his own were +quite worn out. They soon found a shop that displayed a goodly +array and made up to it, and would have entered it; but the shopkeeper +sat on the door-step taking a nap, and was so fat as to block +up the narrow doorway: the very light could hardly struggle past +his "too, too solid flesh," much less a carnal customer.</p> + +<p>My fair readers, accustomed, when they go shopping, to be met +half way with nods, and becks and wreathed smiles, and waived into a +seat, while almost at the same instant an eager shopman flings himself +half across the counter in a semicircle to learn their commands, +can best appreciate this mediæval Teuton, who kept a shop as a dog +keeps a kennel: and sat at the exclusion of custom, snoring like a pig.</p> + +<p>Denys and Gerard stood and contemplated this curiosity; emblem, +permit me to remark, of the lets and hindrances to commerce that +characterized his epoch.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Jump over him!"</p> + +<p>"The door is too low."</p> + +<p>"March through him!"</p> + +<p>"The man is too thick."</p> + +<p>"What is the coil?" inquired a mumbling voice from the interior: +apprentice with his mouth full.</p> + +<p>"We want to get into your shop."</p> + +<p>"What for, in Heaven's name??!!!"</p> + +<p>"Shoon; lazy bones!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span></p> + +<p>The ire of the apprentice began to rise at such an explanation. +"And could ye find no hour out of all the twelve to come pestering +us for shoon, but the one little, little hour my master takes his nap, +and I sit down to my dinner, when all the rest of the world is full +long ago?"</p> + +<p>Denys heard, but could not follow the sense. "Waste no more +time talking their German gibberish," said he; "take out thy knife +and tickle his fat ribs."</p> + +<p>"That will I not," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Then here goes; I'll prong him with this."</p> + +<p>Gerard seized the mad fellow's arm in dismay, for he had been +long enough in the country to guess that the whole town would take +part in any brawl with the native against a stranger. But Denys +twisted away from him, and the cross-bow bolt in his hand was +actually on the road to the sleeper's ribs; but at that very moment +two females crossed the road towards him; he saw the blissful vision, +and instantly forgot what he was about, and awaited their approach +with unreasonable joy.</p> + +<p>Though companions they were not equals; except in attractiveness +to a Burgundian cross-bow man: for one was very tall, the other short, +and, by one of those anomalies which society, however primitive, +speedily establishes, the long one held up the little one's tail. The +tall one wore a plain linen coif on her head, a little grogram cloak +over her shoulders, a grey kirtle, and a short farthingale or petticoat +of bright red cloth, and feet and legs quite bare, though her arms +were veiled in tight linen sleeves.</p> + +<p>The other a kirtle broadly trimmed with fur, her arms in double +sleeves, whereof the inner of yellow satin clung to the skin; the +outer, all befurred, were open at the inside of the elbow, and so the +arm passed through and left them dangling. Velvet head-dress, huge +purse at girdle, gorgeous train, bare legs. And thus they came on, the +citizen's wife strutting, and the maid gliding after, holding her mistress's +train devoutly in both hands, and bending and winding her lithe +body prettily enough to do it. Imagine (if not pressed for time) +a bantam, with a guinea-hen stepping obsequious at its stately heel.</p> + +<p>This pageant made straight for the shoemaker's shop. Denys +louted low; the worshipful lady nodded graciously, but rapidly, +having business on hand, or rather on foot; for in a moment she poked +the point of her little shoe into the sleeper, and worked it round in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +him like a gimlet, till with a long snarl he woke. The incarnate +shutter rising and grumbling vaguely, the lady swept in and deigned +him no further notice. He retreated to his neighbor's shop the +tailor's, and, sitting on the step, protected it from the impertinence +of morning calls. Neighbors should be neighborly.</p> + +<p>Denys and Gerard followed the dignity into the shop, where sat +the apprentice at dinner; the maid stood outside with her insteps +crossed, leaning against the wall, and tapping it with her nails.</p> + +<p>"Those, yonder," said the dignity briefly, pointing with an imperious +little white hand to some yellow shoes gilded at the toe. +While the apprentice stood stock still, neutralized by his dinner and +his duty, Denys sprang at the shoes, and brought them to her; she +smiled, and calmly seating herself, protruded her foot, shod, but +hoseless, and scented. Down went Denys on his knees, and drew +off her shoe, and tried the new ones on the white skin devoutly. Finding +she had a willing victim, she abused the opportunity, tried first +one pair, then another, then the first again, and so on, balancing and +hesitating for about half an hour, to Gerard's disgust and Denys's +weak delight. At last she was fitted, and handed two pair of yellow +and one pair of red shoes out to her servant. Then was heard a sigh. +It burst from the owner of the shop: he had risen from slumber, +and was now hovering about, like a partridge near her brood in danger. +"There go all my coloured shoes?" said he, as they disappeared +in the girl's apron.</p> + +<p>The lady departed: Gerard fitted himself with a stout pair, asked +the price, paid it without a word, and gave his old ones to a beggar +in the street, who blessed him in the market-place, and threw them +furiously down a well in the suburbs. The comrades left the shop, +and in it two melancholy men, that looked, and even talked, as if +they had been robbed wholesale.</p> + +<p>"My shoon are sore worn," said Denys, grinding his teeth; "but +I'll go barefoot till I reach France, ere I'll leave my money with such +churls as these."</p> + +<p>The Dutchman replied calmly, "They seem indifferent well sewn."</p> + +<p>As they drew near the Rhine, they passed through forest after forest, +and now for the first time ugly words sounded in travellers' +mouths, seated around stoves. "Thieves!" "black gangs!" "cutthroats!" +etc.</p> + +<p>The very rustics were said to have a custom hereabouts of murdering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +the unwary traveller in these gloomy woods, whose dark and devious +windings enabled those, who were familiar with them, to do deeds +of rapine and blood undetected, or, if detected, easily to baffle pursuit.</p> + +<p>Certain it was, that every clown they met, carried, whether for +offence or defence, a most formidable weapon; a light axe with a +short pike at the head, and a long slender handle of ash or yew, +well seasoned. These the natives could all throw with singular precision, +so as to make the point strike an object at several yards' +distance, or could slay a bullock at hand with a stroke of the blade. +Gerard bought one and practised with it, Denys quietly filed and +ground his bolts sharp, whistling the whilst; and, when they entered a +gloomy wood, he would unsling his cross-bow and carry it ready +for action; but not so much like a traveller fearing an attack as a +sportsman watchful not to miss a snap shot.</p> + +<p>One day, being in a forest a few leagues from Dusseldorf, as +Gerard was walking like one in a dream, thinking of Margaret, +and scarce seeing the road he trode, his companion laid a hand on +his shoulder, and strung his cross-bow with glittering eye. "Hush!" +said he in a low whisper that startled Gerard more than thunder. +Gerard grasped his axe tight, and shook a little: he heard a rustling +in the wood hard by, and at the same moment Denys sprang into the +wood, and his cross-bow went to his shoulder, even as he jumped. +Twang! went the metal string; and after an instant's suspense he +roared, "Run forward, guard the road, he is hit! he is hit!"</p> + +<p>Gerard darted forward, and, as he ran, a young bear burst out of +the wood right upon him: finding itself intercepted, it went up on its +hind legs with a snarl, and, though not half grown, opened formidable +jaws and long claws. Gerard in a fury of excitement and agitation +flung himself on it and delivered a tremendous blow on its nose with +his axe, and the creature staggered; another, and it lay grovelling +with Gerard hacking it.</p> + +<p>"Hallo! stop! you are mad to spoil the meat."</p> + +<p>"I took it for a robber," said Gerard panting. "I mean I had made +ready for a robber, so I could not hold my hand."</p> + +<p>"Ay, these chattering travellers have stuffed your head full of +thieves and assassins: they have not got a real live robber in their +whole nation. Nay, I'll carry the beast; bear thou my cross-bow."</p> + +<p>"We will carry it by turns then," said Gerard, "for 'tis a heavy +load: poor thing how its blood drips. Why did we slay it?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"For supper, and the reward the baillie of the next town shall +give us."</p> + +<p>"And for that it must die, when it had but just begun to live: and +perchance it hath a mother that will miss it sore this night, and +loves it as ours love us; more than mine doth me."</p> + +<p>"What, know you not that his mother was caught in a pitfall last +month, and her skin is now at the tanner's? and his father was +stuck full of cloth-yard shafts t'other day, and died like Julius Cæsar, +with his hands folded on his bosom, and a dead dog in each of them?"</p> + +<p>But Gerard would not view it jestingly: "Why then," said he, +"we have killed one of God's creatures that was all alone in the +world—as I am this day, in this strange land."</p> + +<p>"You young milksop," roared Denys, "these things must not be +looked at so, or not another bow would be drawn nor quarel fly in +forest nor battle-field. Why, one of your kidney consorting with +a troop of pikemen should turn them to a row of milk-pails: it is +ended, to Rome thou goest not alone; for never wouldst thou reach +the Alps in a whole skin. I take thee to Remiremont, my native +place, and there I marry thee to my young sister, she is blooming +as a peach. Thou shakest thy head? ah! I forgot; thou lovest elsewhere, +and art a one woman man, a creature to me scarce conceivable. +Well then, I shall find thee, not a wife, nor a leman, but a friend; +some honest Bergundian who shall go with thee as far as Lyons; and +much I doubt that honest fellow will be myself, into whose liquor thou +hast dropped sundry powders to make me love thee; for erst I endured +not doves in doublet and hose. From Lyons, I say, I can trust thee +by ship to Italy, which being by all accounts the very stronghold of +milksops, thou wilt there be safe: they will hear thy words, and make +thee their duke in a twinkling."</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed: "In sooth I love not to think of this Dusseldorf +where we are to part company, good friend."</p> + +<p>They walked silently, each thinking of the separation at hand; the +thought checked trifling conversation, and at these moments it is a +relief to do something, however insignificant. Gerard asked Denys +to lend him a bolt. "I have often shot with a long bow, but never +with one of these!"</p> + +<p>"Draw thy knife and cut this one out of the cub," said Denys +slily.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, I want a clean one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> + +<p>Denys gave him three out of his quiver.</p> + +<p>Gerard strung the bow, and levelled it at a bough that had fallen +into the road at some distance. The power of the instrument surprised +him; the short but thick steel bow jarred him to the very heel as +it went off, and the swift steel shaft was invisible in its passage; +only the dead leaves, with which November had carpeted the narrow +road, flew about on the other side of the bough.</p> + +<p>"Ye aimed a thought too high," said Denys.</p> + +<p>"What a deadly thing! no wonder it is driving out the long-bow,—to +Martin's much discontent."</p> + +<p>"Ay, lad," said Denys triumphantly, "it gains ground every day, +in spite of their laws and their proclamations to keep up the yewen +bow, because forsooth their grandsires shot with it, knowing no +better. You see, Gerard, war is not pastime. Men will shoot at +their enemies with the hittingest arm and the killingest, not with the +longest and missingest."</p> + +<p>"Then these new engines I hear of will put both bows down; for +these, with a pinch of black dust, and a leaden ball, and a child's +finger, shall slay you Mars and Goliah, and the Seven Champions."</p> + +<p>"Pooh! pooh!" said Denys warmly; "petrone nor harquebuss +shall ever put down Sir Arbalest. Why, we can shoot ten times +while they are putting their charcoal and their lead into their leathern +smoke belchers, and then kindling their matches. All that is too +fumbling for the field of battle; there a soldier's weapon needs be ay +ready like his heart."</p> + +<p>Gerard did not answer; for his ear was attracted by a sound behind +them. It was a peculiar sound, too, like something heavy, but not +hard, rushing softly over the dead leaves. He turned round with +some little curiosity. A colossal creature was coming down the road +at about sixty paces distance.</p> + +<p>He looked at it in a sort of calm stupor at first; but the next moment +he turned ashy pale.</p> + +<p>"Denys!" he cried. "Oh God! Denys!"</p> + +<p>Denys whirled round.</p> + +<p>It was a bear as big as a cart-horse.</p> + +<p>It was tearing along with its huge head down, running on a hot +scent.</p> + +<p>The very moment he saw it Denys said in a sickening whisper:</p> + +<p>"THE CUB!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> + +<p>Oh! the concentrated horror of that one word, whispered hoarsely, +with dilating eyes! For in that syllable it all flashed upon them +both like a sudden stroke of lightning in the dark—the bloody trail, +the murdered cub, the mother upon them, <i>and it</i>. DEATH.</p> + +<p>All this in a moment of time. The next, she saw them. Huge as +she was, she seemed to double herself (it was her long hair bristling +with rage): she raised her head big as a bull's, her swine-shaped jaws +opened wide at them, her eyes turned to blood and flame, and she +rushed upon them, scattering the leaves about her like a whirlwind as +she came.</p> + +<p>"Shoot!" screamed Denys, but Gerard stood shaking from head to +foot, useless.</p> + +<p>"Shoot, man! ten thousand devils, shoot! too late! Tree! tree!" +and he dropped the cub, pushed Gerard across the road, and flew to the +first tree and climbed it, Gerard the same on his side; and, as they fled, +both men uttered inhuman howls like savage creatures grazed by +death.</p> + +<p>With all their speed one or other would have been torn to fragments +at the foot of his tree; but the bear stopped a moment at the cub.</p> + +<p>Without taking her bloodshot eye off those she was hunting, she +smelt it all round, and found, how, her Creator only knows, that it +was dead, quite dead. She gave a yell such as neither of the hunted +ones had ever heard, nor dreamed to be in nature; and flew after +Denys. She reared and struck at him as he climbed. He was just +out of reach.</p> + +<p>Instantly she seized the tree, and with her huge teeth tore a great +piece out of it with a crash. Then she reared again, dug her claws +deep into the bark, and began to mount it slowly, but as surely as a +monkey.</p> + +<p>Denys's evil star had led him to a dead tree, a mere shaft, and of no +very great height. He climbed faster than his pursuer, and was soon +at the top. He looked this way and that for some bough of another +tree to spring to. There was none: and, if he jumped down, he knew +the bear would be upon him ere he could recover the fall, and make +short work of him. Moreover Denys was little used to turning his +back on danger, and his blood was rising at being hunted. He turned +to bay.</p> + +<p>"My hour is come," thought he. "Let me meet death like a man." +He kneeled down and grasped a small shoot to steady himself, drew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +his long knife, and, clenching his teeth, prepared to jab the huge +brute as soon as it should mount within reach.</p> + +<p>Of this combat the result was not doubtful.</p> + +<p>The monster's head and neck were scarce vulnerable for bone and +masses of hair. The man was going to sting the bear, and the bear +to crack the man like a nut.</p> + +<p>Gerard's heart was better than his nerves. He saw his friend's +mortal danger, and passed at once from fear to blindish rage. He +slipped down his tree in a moment, caught up the cross-bow, which +he had dropped in the road, and, running furiously up, sent a bolt into +the bear's body with a loud shout. The bear gave a snarl of rage and +pain, and turned its head irresolutely.</p> + +<p>"Keep aloof!" cried Denys, "or you are a dead man."</p> + +<p>"I care not;" and in a moment he had another bolt ready and shot +it fiercely into the bear, screaming, "Take that! take that!"</p> + +<p>Denys poured a volley of oaths down at him. "Get away, idiot!"</p> + +<p>He was right: the bear finding so formidable and noisy a foe behind +him, slipped growling down the tree, rending deep furrows in it +as she slipped. Gerard ran back to his tree and climbed it swiftly. +But while his legs were dangling some eight feet from the ground, the +bear came rearing and struck with her fore paw, and out flew a piece +of bloody cloth from Gerard's hose. He climbed, and climbed; and +presently he heard as it were in the air a voice say, "Go out on the +bough!" He looked, and there was a long massive branch before +him shooting upwards at a slight angle; he threw his body across it, +and by a series of convulsive efforts worked up it to the end.</p> + +<p>Then he looked round panting.</p> + +<p>The bear was mounting the tree on the other side. He heard her +claws scrape, and saw her bulge on both sides of the massive tree. +Her eye not being very quick she reached the fork and passed it, +mounting the main stem. Gerard drew breath more freely. The +bear either heard him, or found by scent she was wrong: she paused; +presently she caught sight of him. She eyed him steadily; then +quietly descended to the fork.</p> + +<p>Slowly and cautiously she stretched out a paw and tried the bough. +It was a stiff oak branch, sound as iron. Instinct taught the creature +this: it crawled carefully out on the bough, growling savagely as +it came.</p> + +<p>Gerard looked wildly down. He was forty feet from the ground.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +Death below. Death moving slow but sure on him in a still more +horrible form. His hair bristled. The sweat poured from him. He +sat helpless, fascinated, tongue-tied.</p> + +<p>As the fearful monster crawled growling towards him, incongruous +thoughts coursed through his mind. Margaret: the Vulgate, where it +speaks of the rage of a she-bear robbed of her whelps,—Rome,—Eternity.</p> + +<p>The bear crawled on. And now the stupor of death fell on the +doomed man; he saw the open jaws and bloodshot eyes coming, but +in a mist.</p> + +<p>As in a mist he heard a twang: he glanced down; Denys, white and +silent as death, was shooting up at the bear. The bear snarled at the +twang; but crawled on. Again the cross-bow twanged; and the bear +snarled; and came nearer. Again the cross-bow twanged, and the +next moment the bear was close upon Gerard, where he sat, +with hair standing stiff on end, and eyes starting from their +sockets, palsied. The bear opened her jaws like a grave; and hot +blood spouted from them upon Gerard as from a pump. The bough +rocked. The wounded monster was reeling; it clung, it stuck its +sickles of claws deep into the wood; it toppled, its claws held firm, but +its body rolled off, and the sudden shock to the branch shook Gerard +forward on his stomach with his face upon one of the bear's straining +paws. At this, by a convulsive effort, she raised her head up, up, till +he felt her hot fetid breath. Then huge teeth snapped together loudly +close below him in the air, with a last effort of baffled hate. The ponderous +carcass rent the claws out of the bough; then pounded the earth +with a tremendous thump. There was a shout of triumph below, and +the very next instant a cry of dismay; for Gerard had swooned, and, +without an attempt to save himself, rolled headlong from the perilous +height.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>DENYS caught at Gerard, and somewhat checked his fall: but +it may be doubted whether this alone would have saved him +from breaking his neck or a limb. His best friend now was +the dying bear, on whose hairy carcass his head and shoulders descended. +Denys tore him off her. It was needless. She panted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +still, and her limbs quivered, but a hare was not so harmless; and +soon she breathed her last: and the judicious Denys propped Gerard +up against her, being soft, and fanned him. He came to by degrees, +but confused, and feeling the bear all around him, rolled away yelling.</div> + +<p>"Courage," cried Denys, "le diable est mort."</p> + +<p>"Is it dead? quite dead?" inquired Gerard from behind a tree; +for his courage was feverish, and the cold fit was on him just now, +and had been for some time.</p> + +<p>"Behold," said Denys, and pulled the brute's ear playfully, and +opened her jaws, and put in his head, with other insulting antics; +in the midst of which Gerard was violently sick.</p> + +<p>Denys laughed at him.</p> + +<p>"What is the matter now?" said he, "also why tumble off your +perch just when we had won the day?"</p> + +<p>"I swooned, I trow."</p> + +<p>"But <i>why?</i>"</p> + +<p>Not receiving an answer, he continued, "Green girls faint as soon +as look at you, but then they choose time and place. What woman +ever fainted up a tree?"</p> + +<p>"She sent her nasty blood all over me. I think the smell must have +overpowered me. Faugh! I hate blood."</p> + +<p>"I do believe it potently."</p> + +<p>"See what a mess she has made me!"</p> + +<p>"But with her blood, not yours. I pity the enemy that strives to +satisfy you."</p> + +<p>"You need not to brag, Maître Denys; I saw you under the tree, +the colour of your shirt."</p> + +<p>"Let us distinguish," said Denys colouring: "it is permitted to +tremble <i>for a friend</i>."</p> + +<p>Gerard for answer, flung his arms round Denys's neck in silence.</p> + +<p>"Look here," whined the stout soldier, affected by this little gush +of nature and youth, "was ever aught so like a woman? I love thee, +little milksop, go to. Good! behold him on his knees now. What +new caprice is this?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Denys, ought we not to return thanks to Him who has saved +both our lives against such fearful odds?" And Gerard kneeled and +prayed aloud. And presently he found Denys kneeling quiet beside +him, with his hands across his bosom, after the custom of his nation,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +and a face as long as his arm. When they arose Gerard's countenance +was beaming.</p> + +<p>"Good Denys," said he, "Heaven will reward thy piety."</p> + +<p>"Ah, bah! I did it out of politeness," said the Frenchman. "It +was to please thee, little one. C'est égal: 'twas well and orderly +prayed; and edified me to the core, while it lasted. A bishop had +scarce handled the matter better: so now our evensong being sung, and +the saints enlisted with us—marchons."</p> + +<p>Ere they had taken two steps, he stopped. "By-the-by, the cub!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no, no!" cried Gerard.</p> + +<p>"You are right. It is late: we have lost time climbing trees, and +tumbling off 'em, and swooning, and vomiting, and praying, and the +brute is heavy to carry; and, now I think on't, we shall have papa +after it next; these bears make such a coil about an odd cub: what +is this? You are wounded! you are wounded!"</p> + +<p>"Not I."</p> + +<p>"He is wounded, miserable that I am."</p> + +<p>"Be calm, Denys. I am not touched, I feel no pain anywhere."</p> + +<p>"You? you only feel when another is hurt," cried Denys, with great +emotion and throwing himself on his knees he examined Gerard's +leg with glistening eyes.</p> + +<p>"Quick! quick! before it stiffens," he cried: and hurried him on.</p> + +<p>"Who makes the coil about nothing now?" inquired Gerard composedly.</p> + +<p>Denys's reply was a very indirect one.</p> + +<p>"Be pleased to note," said he, "that I have a bad heart. You +were man enough to save my life, yet I must sneer at you, a novice in +war; was not I a novice once myself? then you fainted from a wound, +and I thought you swooned for fear, and called you a milksop. +Briefly, I have a bad tongue and a bad heart."</p> + +<p>"Denys!"</p> + +<p>"Plait-il?"</p> + +<p>"You lie."</p> + +<p>"You are very good to say so, little one, and I am eternally obliged +to you," mumbled the remorseful Denys.</p> + +<p>Ere they had walked many furlongs, the muscles of the wounded +leg contracted and stiffened, till presently Gerard could only just put +his toe to the ground, and that with great pain.</p> + +<p>At last he could bear it no longer.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let me lie down and die," he groaned, "for this is intolerable."</p> + +<p>Denys represented that it was afternoon, and the nights were now +frosty, and cold and hunger ill companions, and that it would be unreasonable +to lose heart, a certain great personage being notoriously +defunct. So Gerard leaned upon his axe and hobbled on, but presently +he gave in all of a sudden, and sank helpless in the road.</p> + +<p>Denys drew him aside into the wood, and to his surprise gave him +his cross-bow and bolts, enjoining him strictly to lie quiet, and if any +ill-looking fellows should find him out and come to him, to bid them +keep aloof; and, should they refuse, to shoot them dead at twenty +paces. "Honest men keep the path, and, knaves in a wood none but +fools do parley with them." With this he snatched up Gerard's axe +and set off running, not, as Gerard expected, toward Dusseldorf, but +on the road they had come.</p> + +<p>Gerard lay aching and smarting, and to him Rome, that seemed so +near at starting, looked far, far, off, now that he was two hundred +miles nearer it. But soon all his thoughts turned Sevenbergen-wards. +How sweet it would be one day to hold Margaret's hand and tell her +all he had gone through for her! The very thought of it, and her, +soothed him, and in the midst of pain and irritation of the nerves he +lay resigned, and sweetly, though faintly, smiling.</p> + +<p>He had lain thus more than two hours, when suddenly there were +shouts, and the next moment something struck a tree hard by and +quivered in it.</p> + +<p>He looked, it was an arrow.</p> + +<p>He started to his feet. Several missiles rattled among the boughs, +and the wood echoed with battle-cries. Whence they came he could +not tell, for noises in these huge woods are so reverberated that a +stranger is always at fault as to their whereabout; but they seemed to +fill the whole air. Presently there was a lull: then he heard the +fierce galloping of hoofs; and still louder shouts and cries arose, +mingled with shrieks and groans, and above all strange and terrible +sounds like fierce claps of thunder, bellowing loud, and then dying off +in cracking echoes; and red tongues of flame shot out ever and anon +among the trees, and clouds of sulphureous smoke came drifting over +his head: and all was still.</p> + +<p>Gerard was struck with awe. "What will become of Denys?" he +cried. "Oh why did you leave me? Oh Denys, my friend, my +friend!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> + +<p>Just before sunset Denys returned, almost sinking under a hairy +bundle. It was the bear's skin.</p> + +<p>Gerard welcomed him with a burst of joy that astonished him.</p> + +<p>"I thought never to see you again, dear Denys: were you in the +battle?"</p> + +<p>"No. What battle?"</p> + +<p>"The bloody battle of men, or fiends, that raged in the wood a while +agone;" and with this he described it to the life, and more fully than +I have done.</p> + +<p>Denys patted him indulgently on the back.</p> + +<p>"It is well:" said he, "thou are a good limner; and fever is a great +spur to the imagination. One day I lay in a cart-shed with a cracked +skull, and saw two hosts manœuvre and fight a good hour on eight +feet square, the which I did fairly describe to my comrade in due +order, only not so gorgeously as thou, for want of book learning."</p> + +<p>"What then you believe me not? when I tell you the arrows whizzed +over my head, and the combatants shouted, and—"</p> + +<p>"May the foul fiends fly away with me if I believe a word of it."</p> + +<p>Gerard took his arm and quietly pointed to a tree close by.</p> + +<p>"Why it looks like—it is—a broad arrow as I live:" and he went +close and looked up at it.</p> + +<p>"It came out of the battle. I heard it, and saw it."</p> + +<p>"An English arrow."</p> + +<p>"How know you that?"</p> + +<p>"Marry, by its length. The English bowmen draw the bow to the +ear, others only to the right breast. Hence the English loose a three-foot +shaft, and this is one of them, perdition seize them. Well, if +this is not glamour there has been a trifle of a battle: and if there has +been a battle in so ridiculous a place for a battle as this, why then 'tis +no business of mine, for my duke hath no quarrel hereabouts; so let's +to bed," said the professional: and with this he scraped together a +heap of leaves, and made Gerard lie on it, his axe by his side: he then +lay down beside him with one hand on his arbalest, and drew the +bearskin over them, hair inward. They were soon as warm as toast +and fast asleep.</p> + +<p>But long before the dawn Gerard woke his comrade.</p> + +<p>"What shall I do, Denys, I die of famine?"</p> + +<p>"Do? why go to sleep again incontinent: qui dort dîne."</p> + +<p>"But I tell you I am too hungry to sleep," snapped Gerard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Let us march then," replied Denys, with paternal indulgence.</p> + +<p>He had a brief paroxysm of yawns; then made a small bundle of +bears' ears, rolling them up in a strip of the skin, cut for the purpose; +and they took the road.</p> + +<p>Gerard leaned on his axe, and, propped by Denys on the other side, +hobbled along not without sighs.</p> + +<p>"I hate pain," said Gerard, viciously.</p> + +<p>"Therein you show judgment," replied papa, smoothly.</p> + +<p>It was a clear starlight night; and soon the moon rising revealed +the end of the wood at no great distance; a pleasant sight, since +Dusseldorf they knew was but a short league further.</p> + +<p>At the edge of the wood they came upon something so mysterious +that they stopped to gaze at it, before going up to it. Two white pillars +rose in the air, distant a few paces from each other; and between +them stood many figures, that looked like human forms.</p> + +<p>"I go no further till I know what this is," said Gerard, in an agitated +whisper; "are they effigies of the saints, for men to pray to on +the road? or live robbers waiting to shoot down honest travellers? nay, +living men they cannot be, for they stand on nothing that I see. Oh! +Denys, let us turn back till daybreak: this is no mortal sight."</p> + +<p>Denys halted and peered long and keenly. "They are men," said +he, at last. Gerard was for turning back all the more.</p> + +<p>"But men that will never hurt us, nor we them. Look not to their +feet for that they stand on!"</p> + +<p>"Where then i' the name of all saints?"</p> + +<p>"Look over their heads!" said Denys gravely.</p> + +<p>Following this direction, Gerard presently discerned the outline of +a dark wooden beam passing from pillar to pillar; and, as the pair +got nearer, walking now on tiptoe, one by one dark snakelike cords +came out in the moonlight, each pendent from the beam to a dead +man, and tight as wire.</p> + +<p>Now as they came under this awful monument of crime and wholesale +vengeance, a light air swept by; and several of the corpses swung, +or gently gyrated, and every rope creaked. Gerard shuddered at this +ghastly salute. So thoroughly had the gibbet with its sickening load +seized and held their eyes, that it was but now they perceived a fire +right underneath, and a living figure sitting huddled over it. His axe +lay beside him, the bright blade shining red in the glow. He was +asleep.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gerard started, but Denys only whispered. "Courage, comrade, +here is a fire."</p> + +<p>"Ay! but there is a man at it."</p> + +<p>"There will soon be three," and he began to heap some wood on it +that the watcher had prepared; during which the prudent Gerard +seized the man's axe, and sat down tight on it grasping his own, and +examining the sleeper. There was nothing outwardly distinctive in +the man. He wore the dress of the country folk, and the hat of the +district, a three-cornered hat called a Brunswicker, stiff enough to +turn a sword cut, and with a thick brass hat-band. The weight of +the whole thing had turned his ears entirely down, like a fancy rabbit's +in our century; but even this, though it spoiled him as a man, +was nothing remarkable. They had of late met scores of these dog's-eared +rustics. The peculiarity was—this clown watching under a +laden gallows. What for?</p> + +<p>Denys, if he felt curious, would not show it; he took out two bears' +ears from his bundle, and, running sticks through them began to toast +them. "'Twill be eating coined money," said he; "for the burgomaster +of Dusseldorf had given us a rix-dollar for these ears, as +proving the death of their owners; but better a lean purse than a lere +stomach."</p> + +<p>"Unhappy man!" cried Gerard, "could you eat food <i>here?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Where the fire is lighted there must the meat roast, and where it +roasts there must it be eaten; for nought travels worse than your +roasted meat."</p> + +<p>"Well, eat thou, Denys, an thou canst! but I am cold and sick; +there is no room for hunger in my heart after what mine eyes have +seen," and he shuddered over the fire; "oh! how they creak! and who +is this man I wonder? what an ill-favoured churl!"</p> + +<p>Denys examined him like a connoisseur looking at a picture; and +in due course delivered judgment. "I take him to be of the refuse +of that company, whereof these (pointing carelessly upward) were +the cream, and so ran their heads into danger."</p> + +<p>"At that rate, why not stun him before he wakes?" and Gerard +fidgeted where he sat.</p> + +<p>Denys opened his eyes with humorous surprise. "For one who +sets up for a milksop you have the readiest hand. Why should two +stun one? tush! he wakes: note now what he says at waking, and tell +me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span></p> + +<p>These last words were hardly whispered when the watcher opened +his eyes. At sight of the fire made up, and two strangers eyeing him +keenly, he stared, and there was a severe and pretty successful effort +to be calm; still a perceptible tremor ran all over him. Soon he +manned himself, and said gruffly, "Good morrow." But, at the very +moment of saying it, he missed his axe, and saw how Gerard +was sitting upon it with his own laid ready to his hand. He lost +countenance again directly. Denys smiled grimly at this bit of +by-play.</p> + +<p>"Good morrow!" said Gerard quietly, keeping his eye on him.</p> + +<p>The watcher was now too ill at ease to be silent. "You make free +with my fire," said he; but he added in a somewhat faltering voice, +"you are welcome."</p> + +<p>Denys whispered to Gerard. The watcher eyed them askant.</p> + +<p>"My comrade says, sith we share your fire, you shall share his +meat."</p> + +<p>"So be it," said the man, warmly. "I have half a kid hanging on a +bush hard by, I'll go fetch it;" and he arose with a cheerful and +obliging countenance, and was retiring.</p> + +<p>Denys caught up his cross-bow, and levelled it at his head. The +man fell on his knees.</p> + +<p>Denys lowered his weapon, and pointed him back to his place. He +rose and went back slowly and unsteadily, like one disjointed; and +sick at heart as the mouse, that the cat lets go a little way, and then +darts and replaces.</p> + +<p>"Sit down, friend," said Denys grimly, in French.</p> + +<p>The man obeyed finger and tone, though he knew not a word of +French.</p> + +<p>"Tell him the fire is not big enough for more than three. He will +take my meaning."</p> + +<p>This being communicated by Gerard, the man grinned; ever since +Denys spoke he had seemed greatly relieved. "I wist not ye were +strangers," said he to Gerard.</p> + +<p>Denys cut a piece of bear's ear, and offered it with grace to him he +had just levelled cross-bow at.</p> + +<p>He took it calmly, and drew a piece of bread from his wallet, and +divided it with the pair. Nay, more, he winked and thrust his hand +into the heap of leaves he sat on (Gerard grasped his axe ready to +brain him) and produced a leathern bottle holding full two gallons.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +He put it to his mouth, and drank their healths then handed it to +Gerard; he passed it untouched to Denys.</p> + +<p>"Mort de ma vie!" cried the soldier "it is Rhenish wine, and fit +for the gullet of an archbishop. Here's to thee, thou prince of good +fellows, wishing thee a short life and a merry one! Come, Gerard, +sup! sup! Pshaw, never heed them, man! they heed not thee. +Natheless, did I hang over such a skin of Rhenish as this, and three +churls sat beneath a drinking it and offered me not a drop I'd soon +be down among them."</p> + +<p>"Denys! Denys!"</p> + +<p>"My spirit would cut the cord and womp would come my body +amongst ye, with a hand on the bottle, and one eye winking, t'other—"</p> + +<p>Gerard started up with a cry of horror and his fingers to his ears, +and was running from the place, when his eye fell on the watcher's +axe. The tangible danger brought him back. He sat down again on +the axe with his fingers in his ears.</p> + +<p>"Courage, l'ami, le diable est mort!" shouted Denys gaily, and +offered him a piece of bear's ear, put it right under his nose as he +stopped his ears. Gerard turned his head away with loathing. +"Wine!" he gasped. "Heaven knows I have much need of it, with +such companions as thee and—"</p> + +<p>He took a long draught of the Rhenish wine: it ran glowing +through his veins, and warmed and strengthened his heart; but could +not check his tremors whenever a gust of wind came. As for Denys +and the other, they feasted recklessly, and plied the bottle unceasingly, +and drank healths and caroused beneath that creaking sepulchre and +its ghastly tenants.</p> + +<p>"Ask him how they came here," said Denys with his mouthful, and +pointing up without looking.</p> + +<p>On this question being interpreted to the watcher, he replied that +treason had been their end, diabolical treason and priestcraft. He +then, being rendered communicative by drink, delivered a long prosy +narrative, the purport of which was as follows. These honest gentlemen +who now dangled here so miserably, were all stout men and true, +and lived in the forest by their wits. Their independence and thriving +state excited the jealousy and hatred of a large portion of mankind; +and many attempts were made on their lives and liberties; +these the Virgin and their patron saints, coupled with their individual +skill and courage, constantly baffled. But yester-eve a party of merchants<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +came slowly on their mules from Dusseldorf. The honest men +saw them crawling, and let them penetrate near a league into the +forest, then set upon them to make them disgorge a portion of their +ill-gotten gains. But, alas! the merchants were no merchants at all, +but soldiers of more than one nation, in the pay of the Archbishop of +Cologne; haubergeons had they beneath their gowns, and weapons +of all sorts at hand; nathless, the honest men fought stoutly, and +pressed the traitors hard, when lo! horsemen, that had been planted +in ambush many hours before, galloped up, and with these new +diabolical engines of war, shot leaden bullets and laid many an honest +fellow low, and so quelled the courage of others that they yielded +them prisoners. These, being taken red-handed, the victors, who with +malice inconceivable had brought cords knotted round their waists, +did speedily hang, and by their side the dead ones, to make the gallanter +show. "That one at the end was the captain. He never felt +the cord. He was riddled with broad arrows and leaden balls or +ever they could take him: a worthy man as ever cried 'Stand and +deliver!' but a little hasty, not much: stay! I forgot; he is dead. +Very hasty, and obstinate as a pig. That one in the buff jerkin is +the lieutenant, as good a soul as ever lived; he was hanged alive: +This one here, I never could abide; no (not that one; that is Conrad +my bosom friend); I mean this one right overhead in the chicken-toed +shoon: you were always carrying tales, ye thief, and making +mischief; you know you were; and sirs, I am a man that would +rather live united in a coppice than in a forest with backbiters and +tale-bearers; strangers, I drink to you." And so he went down the +whole string, indicating with the neck of the bottle like a showman +with his pole and giving a neat description of each, which +though pithy was invariably false; for the showman had no real +eye for character and had misunderstood every one of these +people.</p> + +<p>"Enough palaver!" cried Denys. "Marchons! Give me his axe: +now tell him he must help you along."</p> + +<p>The man's countenance fell, but he saw in Denys's eye that resistance +would be dangerous; he submitted. Gerard it was who objected. +He said, "Y pensez-vous? to put my hand on a thief, it maketh my +flesh creep."</p> + +<p>"Childishness! all trades must live. Besides I have my reasons. +Be not you wiser than your elder."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No. Only if I am to lean on him I must have my hand in my +bosom, still grasping the haft of my knife."</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/illus171.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="IN THAT STRANGE AND MIXED ATTITUDE OF TENDER OFFICES AND DEADLY SUSPICION THE TRIO DID WALK" title="" /> +<span class="caption">IN THAT STRANGE AND MIXED ATTITUDE OF TENDER OFFICES AND DEADLY SUSPICION THE TRIO DID WALK</span> +</div> + +<p>"It is a new attitude to walk in; but please thyself."</p> + +<p>And in that strange and mixed attitude of tender offices and +deadly suspicion the trio did walk. I wish I could draw them: +I would not trust to the pen.</p> + +<p>The light of the watch-tower at Dusseldorf was visible as soon +as they cleared the wood; and cheered Gerard. When, after an +hour's march, the black outline of the tower itself and other buildings +stood out clear to the eye, their companion halted and said +gloomily, "You may as well slay me out of hand as take me any +nearer the gates of Dusseldorf town."</p> + +<p>On this being communicated to Denys, he said at once, "Let +him go then, for in sooth his neck will be in jeopardy if he wends +much further with us." Gerard acquiesced as a matter of course. +His horror of a criminal did not in the least dispose him to active +co-operation with the law. But the fact is, that at this epoch +no private citizen in any part of Europe ever meddled with criminals +but in self-defence, except by-the-by in England, which, behind +other nations in some things, was centuries before them all in this.</p> + +<p>The man's personal liberty being restored, he asked for his axe. +It was given him. To the friends' surprise he still lingered. Was +he to have nothing for coming so far out of his way with them?</p> + +<p>"Here are two batzen, friend."</p> + +<p>"And the wine, the good Rhenish?"</p> + +<p>"Did you give aught for it?"</p> + +<p>"Ay! the peril of my life."</p> + +<p>"Hum! what say you, Denys?"</p> + +<p>"I say it was worth its weight in gold. Here, lad, here be silver +groshen, one for every acorn on that gallows tree: and here is one +more for thee—who wilt doubtless be there in due season."</p> + +<p>The man took the coins, but still lingered.</p> + +<p>"Well? what now?" cried Gerard, who thought him shamefully +overpaid already. "Do'st seek the hide off our bones?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, good sirs; but you have seen to-night how parlous a life +is mine. Ye be true men, and your prayers avail: give me then +a small trifle of a prayer, an't please you; for I know not one."</p> + +<p>Gerard's choler began to rise at the egotistical rogue; moreover, +ever since his wound he had felt gusts of irritability. However,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +he bit his lip and said, "There go two words to that bargain; tell +me first, is it true what men say of you Rhenish thieves, that ye do +murder innocent and unresisting travellers as well as rob them?"</p> + +<p>The other answered sulkily, "They you call thieves are not to +blame for that; the fault lies with the law."</p> + +<p>"Gramercy! so 'tis the law's fault that ill men break it?"</p> + +<p>"I mean not so: but the law in this land slays an honest man +an if he do but steal. What follows? he would be pitiful, but is +discouraged herefrom: pity gains him no pity, and doubles his peril: +an he but cut a purse his life is forfeit; therefore cutteth he the +throat to boot to save his own neck: dead men tell no tales. Pray +then for the poor soul, who by bloody laws is driven to kill or else +be slaughtered; were there less of this unreasonable gibbeting on the +high road, there should be less enforced cutting of throats in dark +woods, my masters."</p> + +<p>"Fewer words had served," replied Gerard, coldly; "I asked a +question, I am answered," and, suddenly doffing his bonnet,</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"'Obsecro Deum omnipotentem, ut, quâ cruce jam pendent isti quindecim +latrones fures et homicidæ, in eâ homicida fur et latro tu pependeris +quam citissime, pro publica salute, in honorem justi Dei cui sit gloria, in +æternum, Amen.'"</p></div> + +<p>"And so good day."</p> + +<p>The greedy outlaw was satisfied at last. "That is Latin," he +muttered, "and more than I bargained for." So indeed it was.</p> + +<p>And he returned to his business with a mind at ease. The friends +pondered in silence the many events of the last few hours.</p> + +<p>At last Gerard said, thoughtfully, "That she-bear saved both our +lives—by God's will."</p> + +<p>"Like enough," replied Denys; "and talking of that, it was lucky +we did not dawdle over our supper."</p> + +<p>"What mean you?"</p> + +<p>"I mean they are not all hanged; I saw a refuse of seven or +eight as black as ink around our fire."</p> + +<p>"When? when?"</p> + +<p>"Ere we had left it five minutes."</p> + +<p>"Good heavens! And you said not a word."</p> + +<p>"It would but have worried you, and had set our friend a looking +back, and mayhap tempted him to get his skull split. All<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +other danger was over; they could not see us, we were out of the +moonshine and indeed, just turning a corner; ah! there is the sun; +and here are the gates of Dusseldorf. Courage, l'ami; le diable +est mort."</p> + +<p>"My head! my head!" was all poor Gerard could reply.</p> + +<p>So many shocks, emotions, perils, horrors, added to the wound, +his first, had tried his youthful body and sensitive nature, too +severely.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>It was noon of the same day.</p> + +<p>In a bedroom of "The Silver Lion" the rugged Denys sat anxious, +watching his young friend.</p> + +<p>And he lay raging with fever, delirious at intervals, and one word +for ever on his lips:</p> + +<p>"Margaret!—Margaret!—Margaret!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT was the afternoon of the next day. Gerard was no longer +light-headed, but very irritable, and full of fancies; and in +one of these he begged Denys to get him a lemon to suck. +Denys, who from a rough soldier had been turned by tender friendship +into a kind of grandfather, got up hastily, and bidding him +set his mind at ease, "lemons he should have in the twinkling of +a quart pot," went and ransacked the shops for them.</div> + +<p>They were not so common in the North as they are now, and he +was absent a long while, and Gerard getting very impatient, when +at last the door opened. But it was not Denys. Entered softly an +imposing figure; an old gentleman in a long sober gown trimmed +with rich fur, cherry-coloured hose, and pointed shoes, with a sword +by his side in a morocco scabbard, a ruff round his neck not only +starched severely, but treacherously stiffened in furrows by rebatoes, +or a little hidden framework of wood; and on his head +a four-cornered cap with a fur border; on his chin and bosom a +majestic white beard. Gerard was in no doubt as to the vocation +of his visitor, for, the sword excepted, this was as familiar to him +as the full dress of a physician. Moreover a boy followed at his +heels with a basket, where phials, lint and surgical tools rather<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +courted than shunned observation. The old gentleman came softly +to the bedside, and said mildly and sotto voce, "How is't with thee, +my son?"</p> + +<p>Gerard answered gratefully that his wound gave him little pain +now; but his throat was parched, and his head heavy.</p> + +<p>"A wound? they told me not of that. Let me see it. Ay, ay, a +good clean bite. The mastiff had sound teeth that took this out, I +warrant me": and the good doctor's sympathy seemed to run off +to the quadruped he had conjured; his jackal.</p> + +<p>"This must be cauterized forthwith, or we shall have you starting +back from water, and turning somersaults in bed under our +hands. 'Tis the year for raving curs, and one hath done +your business; but we will baffle him yet. Urchin, go heat thine +iron."</p> + +<p>"But, sir," edged in Gerard, "'twas no dog, but a bear."</p> + +<p>"A bear! young man?" remonstrated the senior severely: "think +what you say; 'tis ill jesting with the man of art who brings his +grey hairs and long study to heal you. A bear quotha! Had you +dissected as many bears as I, or the tithe, and drawn their teeth +to keep your hand in, you would know that no bear's jaw ever +made this foolish trifling wound. I tell you 'twas a dog, and, since +you put me to it, I even deny that it was a dog of magnitude, +but neither more nor less than one of these little furious curs that +are so rife, and run devious, biting each manly leg, and laying its +wearer low, but for me and my learned brethren, who still stay +the mischief with knife and cautery."</p> + +<p>"Alas sir! when said I 'twas a bear's jaw? I said, 'A bear': it +was his paw, now."</p> + +<p>"And why didst not tell me that at once?"</p> + +<p>"Because you kept telling me instead."</p> + +<p>"Never conceal aught from your leech, young man," continued +the senior, who was a good talker, but one of the worst listeners +in Europe. "Well, it is an ill business. All the horny excrescences +of animals, to wit claws of tigers, panthers, badgers, cats, bears, +and the like, and horn of deer, and nails of humans, especially +children, are imbued with direst poison. Y'had better have been +bitten by a cur, <i>whatever you may say</i>, than gored by bull or stag, +or scratched by bear. However, shalt have a good biting cataplasm +for thy leg; meantime keep we the body cool: put out thy tongue!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +good!—fever. Let me feel thy pulse: good!—fever. I ordain +flebotomy and on the instant."</p> + +<p>"Flebotomy! that is blood-letting: humph? Well no matter, +if 'tis sure to cure me; for I will not lie idle here." The doctor +let him know that flebotomy was infallible; especially in this +case.</p> + +<p>"Hans, go fetch the things needful; and I will entertain the patient +meantime with reasons."</p> + +<p>The man of art then explained to Gerard that in disease the blood +becomes hot and distempered and more or less poisonous: but, a +portion of this unhealthy liquid removed, Nature is fain to create a +purer fluid to fill its place. Bleeding therefore, being both a cooler +and a purifier, was a specific in all diseases for all diseases were +febrile, whatever empirics might say.</p> + +<p>"But think not," said he warmly, "that it suffices to bleed: any +paltry barber can open a vein (though not all can close it again). +The art is to know what vein to empty for what disease. T'other +day they brought me one tormented with earache. I let him blood +in the right thigh and away flew his earache. By-the-by he has died +since then. Another came with the toothache. I bled him behind +the ear, and relieved him in a giffy. He is also since dead as it happens. +I bled our bailiff between the thumb and forefinger for rheumatism. +Presently he comes to me with a headache and drumming +in the ears, and holds out his hand over the basin; but I smiled +at his folly, and bled him in the left ankle sore against his will, +and made his head as light as a nut."</p> + +<p>Diverging then from the immediate theme after the manner of +enthusiasts, the reverend teacher proceeded thus:—</p> + +<p>"Know, young man, that two schools of art contend at this moment +throughout Europe. The Arabian, whose ancient oracles are Avicenna, +Rhazes, Albucazis; and its revivers are Chauliac and Lanfranc; +and the Greek school, whose modern champions are Bessarion, Platinus, +and Marsilius Ficinus, but whose pristine doctors were medicine's +very oracles, Phœbus, Chiron, Æsculapius, and his sons Podalinus +and Machaon, Pythagoras, Democritus, Praxagoras who invented +the arteries, and Dioctes 'qui primus urinæ animum dedit.' +All these taught orally. Then came Hippocrates, the eighteenth from +Æsculapius, and of him we have manuscripts; to him we owe 'the +vital principle.' He also invented the bandage, and tapped for water<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +on the chest: and above all he dissected; yet only quadrupeds; for +the brutal prejudices of the pagan vulgar withheld the human body +from the knife of science. Him followed Aristotle, who gave us the +aorta, the largest blood-vessel in the human body."</p> + +<p>"Surely, sir, the Almighty gave us all that is in our bodies, and +not Aristotle, nor any Grecian man," objected Gerard humbly.</p> + +<p>"Child! of course He gave us the thing; but Aristotle did more, +he gave us the name of the thing. But young men will still be talking. +The next great light was Galen; he studied at Alexandria, +then the home of science. He, justly malcontent with quadrupeds, +dissected apes, as coming nearer to man: and bled like a Trojan. +Then came Theophilus, who gave us the nerves, the lacteal vessels, +and the pia mater."</p> + +<p>This worried Gerard. "I cannot lie still and hear it said that +mortal man bestowed the parts which Adam our father took from +Him, who made him of the clay, and us his sons."</p> + +<p>"Was ever such perversity?" said the doctor, his colour rising. +"Who is the real donor of a thing to man? he who plants it secretly +in the dark recesses of man's body, or the learned wight who reveals +it to his intelligence, and so enriches his mind with the +knowledge of it? Comprehension is your only true possession. Are +you answered?"</p> + +<p>"I am put to silence, sir."</p> + +<p>"And that is better still: for garrulous patients are ill to cure, +especially in fever: I say then that Eristratus gave us the cerebral +nerves and the milk vessels; nay more, he was the inventor of lithotomy, +whatever you may say. Then came another whom I forget: +you do somewhat perturb me with your petty exceptions. Then +came Ammonius the author of lithotrity, and here comes Hans with +the basin—to stay your volubility. Blow thy chafer, boy, and +hand me the basin; 'tis well. Arabians quotha! What are they +but a sect of yesterday, who about the year 1000 did fall in with +the writings of those very Greeks, and read them awry, having +no concurrent light of their own? for their demigod, and camel-driver, +Mahound, impostor in science as in religion, had strictly +forbidden them anatomy even of the lower animals, the which he +who severeth from medicine, 'tollit solem e mundo,' as Tully quoth. +Nay, wonder not at my fervour, good youth. Where the general +weal stands in jeopardy, a little warmth is civic, humane, and honourable;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +now there is settled of late in this town a pestilent Arabist, a +mere empiric, who despising anatomy, and scarce knowing Greek +from Hebrew, hath yet spirited away half my patients; and I tremble +for the rest. Put forth thine ankle; and thou, Hans, breathe on +the chafer."</p> + +<p>Whilst matters were in this posture, in came Denys with the +lemons, and stood surprised. "What sport is toward?" said he, +raising his brows.</p> + +<p>Gerard coloured a little and told him the learned doctor was going +to flebotomize him and cauterize him; that was all.</p> + +<p>"Ay! indeed; and yon imp, what bloweth he hot coals for?"</p> + +<p>"What should it be for," said the doctor to Gerard, "but to +cauterize the vein when opened, and the poisonous blood let free? +'Tis the only safe way. Avicenna indeed recommends a ligature +of the vein; but how 'tis to be done he saith not, nor knew he himself +I wot, nor any of the spawn of Ishmael. For me, I have +no faith in such tricksy expedients: and take this with you for a +safe principle! 'whatever an Arab or Arabist says is right, must +be wrong.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I see now what 'tis for," said Denys; "and art thou so simple +as to let him put hot iron to thy living flesh? didst ever keep thy +little finger but ten moments in a candle? and this will be as many +minutes. Art not content to burn in purgatory after thy death? +must thou needs buy a foretaste on't here?"</p> + +<p>"I never thought of that," said Gerard gravely: "The good +doctor spake not of burning, but of cautery; to be sure 'tis all one, +but cautery sounds not so fearful as burning."</p> + +<p>"Imbecile! That is their art; to confound a plain man with +dark words, till his hissing flesh lets him know their meaning. Now +listen to what I have seen. When a soldier bleeds from a wound +in battle, these leeches say, 'Fever. Blood him!' and so they burn +the wick at t'other end too. They bleed the bled. Now at fever's +heels comes desperate weakness; then the man needs all his blood to +live; but these prickers and burners, having no forethought, recking +nought of what is sure to come in a few hours, and seeing +like brute beasts only what is under their noses, have meantime +robbed him of the very blood his hurt had spared him to battle +that weakness withal; and so he dies exhausted: hundreds have I +seen so scratched, and pricked, out of the world, Gerard, and tall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> +fellows too: but lo! if they have the luck to be wounded where no +doctor can be had, then they live; this too have I seen. Had I +ever outlived that field in Brabant but for my most lucky mischance, +lack of chirurgery? The frost choked all my bleeding +wounds and so I lived. A chirurgeon had pricked yet one more +hole in this my body with his lance, and drained my last drop out, +and my spirit with it. Seeing them thus distraught in bleeding +of the bleeding soldier, I place no trust in them; for what slays +a veteran may well lay a milk-and-water bourgeois low."</p> + +<p>"This sounds like common sense," sighed Gerard languidly, "but +no need to raise your voice so: I was not born deaf, and just now +I hear acutely."</p> + +<p>"Common sense! very common sense indeed," shouted the bad +listener; "why this is a soldier; a brute whose business is to kill +men, not cure them." He added in very tolerable French, "Woe +be to you, unlearned man, if you come between a physician and his +patient, and woe be to you, misguided youth, if you listen to that +man of blood."</p> + +<p>"Much obliged," said Denys with mock politeness; "but I am +a true man, and would rob no man of his name. I do somewhat in +the way of blood, but not worth mention in this presence. For one +I slay, you slay a score, and for one spoonful of blood I draw, you +spill a tubful. The world is still gulled by shows. We soldiers +vapour with long swords: and even in war beget two foes for every +one we kill; but you smooth gownsmen, with soft phrases and bare +bodkins, 'tis you that thin mankind."</p> + +<p>"A sick chamber is no place for jesting," cried the physician.</p> + +<p>"No, doctor, nor for bawling," said the patient peevishly.</p> + +<p>"Come, young man," said the senior kindly; "be reasonable! +Cuilibet in suâ arte credendum est. My whole life has been given +to this art. I studied at Montpelier; the first school in France and +by consequence in Europe. There learned I Dririmancy, Scatomancy, +Pathology, Therapeusis, and, greater than them all, Anatomy. +For there we disciples of Hippocrates and Galen had opportunities +those great ancients never knew. Good-bye, quadrupeds and apes, +and Paganism, and Mohammedanism; we bought of the churchwardens, +we shook the gallows; we undid the sexton's work o' dark +nights, penetrated with love of science and our kind; all the authorities +had their orders from Paris to wink; and they winked. Gods<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +of Olympus, how they winked! The gracious king assisted us; he +sent us twice a year a living criminal condemned to die, and said +'Deal ye with him as science asks: dissect him alive, if ye think fit.'"</p> + +<p>"By the liver of Herod, and Nero's bowels, he'll make me blush +for the land that bore me, an if he praises it any more," shouted +Denys at the top of his voice.</p> + +<p>Gerard gave a little squawk, and put his fingers in his ears; but +speedily drew them out and shouted angrily, and as loudly, "You +great, roaring, blaspheming, bull of Basan, hold your noisy tongue!"</p> + +<p>Denys summoned a contrite look.</p> + +<p>"Tush, slight man," said the doctor with calm contempt, and +vibrated a hand over him as in this age men make a pointer dog +down charge; then flowed majestic on. "We seldom, or never dissected +the living criminal, except in part. We mostly inoculated +them with such diseases as the barren time afforded, selecting of +course the more interesting ones."</p> + +<p>"That means the foulest," whispered Denys meekly.</p> + +<p>"These we watched through all their stages, to maturity."</p> + +<p>"Meaning the death of the poor rogue," whispered Denys meekly.</p> + +<p>"And now, my poor sufferer, who best merits your confidence, +this honest soldier with his youth, his ignorance, and his prejudices, +or a greybeard laden with the gathered wisdom of ages?"</p> + +<p>"That is," cried Denys impatiently, "will you believe what a +jackdaw in a long gown has heard from a starling in a long gown, +who heard it from a jay-pie, who heard it from a magpie, who heard +it from a popinjay; or will you believe what I, a man with nought +to gain by looking awry, nor speaking false, have seen; not heard +with the ears which are given us to gull us, but seen with these +sentinels mine eyne, seen, seen; to wit that fevered and blooded +men die, that fevered men not blooded live? stay, who sent for +this sang-sue? Did you?"</p> + +<p>"Not I. I thought you had."</p> + +<p>"Nay," explained the doctor, "the good landlord told me one was +'down' in his house: so I said to myself, 'a stranger, and in need +of my art'; and came incontinently."</p> + +<p>"It was the act of a good Christian, sir."</p> + +<p>"Of a good bloodhound," cried Denys contemptuously. "What, +art thou so green as not to know that all these landlords are in league +with certain of their fellow-citizens, who pay them toll on each<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +booty? Whatever you pay this ancient for stealing your life blood, +of that the landlord takes his third for betraying you to him. Nay, +more, as soon as ever your blood goes down the stair in that basin +there, the landlord will see it or smell it, and send swiftly to his +undertaker and get his third out of that job. For if he waited +till the doctor got down stairs, the doctor would be beforehand and +bespeak <i>his</i> undertaker, and then <i>he</i> would get the black thirds. +Say I sooth, old Rouge et Noir? dites!"</p> + +<p>"Denys, Denys, who taught you to think so ill of man?"</p> + +<p>"Mine eyes, that are not to be gulled by what men say, seeing +this many a year what they do, in all the lands I travel."</p> + +<p>The doctor with some address made use of these last words to +escape the personal question. "I too have eyes as well as thou, +and go not by tradition only, but by what I have seen, and not +only seen but done. I have healed as many men by bleeding, as that +interloping Arabist has killed for want of it. 'Twas but t'other day +I healed one threatened with leprosy; I but bled him at the tip +of the nose. I cured last year a quartan ague: how? bled its forefinger. +Our curé lost his memory. I brought it him back on the +point of my lance; I bled him behind the ear. I bled a dolt of +a boy, and now he is the only one who can tell his right hand from +his left in a whole family of idiots. When the plague was here +years ago, no sham plague, such as empirics proclaim every six +years or so but the good honest Byzantine pest, I blooded an alderman +freely, and cauterized the symptomatic buboes, and so pulled +him out of the grave: whereas our then chirurgeon, a most pernicious +Arabist, caught it himself, and died of it, aha, calling on +Rhazes, Avicenna, and Mahound, who, could they have come, had +all perished as miserably as himself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my poor ears," sighed Gerard.</p> + +<p>"And am I fallen so low that one of your presence and +speech rejects my art, and listens to a rude soldier, so far behind +even his own miserable trade as to bear an arbalest, a worn-out +invention, that German children shoot at pigeons with, but German +soldiers mock at since ever arquebusses came and put them +down?"</p> + +<p>"You foul-mouthed old charlatan," cried Denys, "the arbalest is +shouldered by taller men than ever stood in Rhenish hose, and even +now it kills as many more than your noisy, stinking arquebuss, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +the lancet does than all our toys together. Go to! He was no fool +who first called you 'leeches.' Sang-sues! va!"</p> + +<p>Gerard groaned. "By the holy virgin, I wish you were both at +Jericho, bellowing."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, comrade. Then I'll bark no more, but at need I'll +bite. If he has a lance, I have a sword; if he bleeds you, I'll +bleed him. The moment his lance pricks your skin, little one, +my sword-hilt knocks against his ribs; I have said it."</p> + +<p>And Denys turned pale, folded his arms, and looked gloomy +and dangerous.</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed wearily. "Now, as all this is about me, give me +leave to say a word."</p> + +<p>"Ay! let the young man choose life or death for himself."</p> + +<p>Gerard then indirectly rebuked his noisy counsellers by contrast +and example. He spoke with unparalleled calmness, sweetness, +and gentleness. And these were the words of Gerard the son of +Eli. "I doubt not you both mean me well: but you assassinate me +between you. Calmness and quiet are everything to me; but you +are like two dogs growling over a bone.</p> + +<p>"And in sooth, bone I should be, did this uproar last long."</p> + +<p>There was a dead silence, broken only by the silvery voice of +Gerard, as he lay tranquil, and gazed calmly at the ceiling, and +trickled into words.</p> + +<p>"First, venerable sir, I thank you for coming to see me, whether +from humanity, or in the way of honest gain; all trades must live.</p> + +<p>"Your learning, reverend sir, seems great, to me at least, and +for your experience, your age voucheth it.</p> + +<p>"You say you have bled many, and of these many many have +not died thereafter, but lived, and done well. I must needs believe +you."</p> + +<p>The physician bowed; Denys grunted.</p> + +<p>"Others you say you have bled, and—they are dead. I must +needs believe you.</p> + +<p>"Denys knows few things compared with you, but he knows them +well. He is a man not given to conjecture. This I myself have +noted. He says he has seen the fevered and blooded for the most +part die; the fevered and not blooded live. I must needs believe +him.</p> + +<p>"Here, then, all is doubt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But thus much is certain; if I be bled, I must pay you a fee, and +be burnt and excruciated with a hot iron, who am no felon.</p> + +<p>"Pay a certain price in money and anguish for a doubtful remedy, +that will I never.</p> + +<p>"Next to money and ease, peace and quiet are certain goods, +above all in a sick-room; but 'twould seem men cannot argue medicine +without heat and raised voices; therefore, sir, I will essay a +little sleep, and Denys will go forth and gaze on the females of +the place, and I will keep you no longer from those who can afford +to lay out blood, and money, in flebotomy and cautery."</p> + +<p>The old physician had naturally a hot temper; he had often +during this battle of words mastered it with difficulty, and now +it mastered him. The most dignified course was silence; he saw +this, and drew himself up and made loftily for the door, followed +close by his little boy and big basket.</p> + +<p>But at the door he choked, he swelled, he burst. He whirled +and came back open-mouthed, and the little boy and big basket had +to whisk semicircularly not to be run down, for de minimis non +curat Medicina—even when not in a rage.</p> + +<p>"Ah! you reject my skill, you scorn my art. My revenge shall +be to leave you to yourself; lost idiot, take your last look at me, +and at the sun. Your blood be on your head!" And away +he stamped.</p> + +<p>But on reaching the door he whirled and came back; his wicker +tail twirling round after him like a cat's.</p> + +<p>"In twelve hours at furthest you will be in the secondary stage +of fever. Your head will split. Your carotids will thump. Aha! +And let but a pin fall you will jump to the ceiling. Then send +for me: and I'll not come." He departed. But at the door-handle +gathered fury, wheeled and came flying, with pale, terror-stricken +boy and wicker tail whisking after him. "Next will come—<span class="smcap">Cramps</span> +of the <span class="smcap">Stomach</span>. Aha!</p> + +<p>"Then—<span class="smcap">Bilious Vomit</span>. Aha!</p> + +<p>"Then—<span class="smcap">Cold Sweat</span>, and <span class="smcap">Deadly Stupor</span>.</p> + +<p>"Then—<span class="smcap">Confusion of all the Senses</span>.</p> + +<p>"Then—<span class="smcap">Bloody Vomit</span>.</p> + +<p>"And after that nothing can save you, not even I: and if I +could I would not, and so farewell!"</p> + +<p>Even Denys changed colour at threats so fervent and precise;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +but Gerard only gnashed his teeth with rage at the noise, and seized +his hard bolster with kindling eye.</p> + +<p>This added fuel to the fire and brought the insulted ancient back +from the impassable door, with his whisking train.</p> + +<p>"And after that—<span class="smcap">Madness</span>!</p> + +<p>"And after that—<span class="smcap">Black Vomit</span>!</p> + +<p>"And then—<span class="smcap">Convulsions</span>!</p> + +<p>"And then—<span class="smcap">That Cessation of all Vital Functions the +Vulgar Call 'Death,'</span> for which thank your own Satanic folly and +insolence, farewell." He went. He came. He roared, "And +think not to be buried in any Christian churchyard; for the bailiff is +my good friend, and I shall tell him how and why you died: felo de +se! felo de se! Farewell."</p> + +<p>Gerard sprang to his feet on the bed by some supernatural +gymnastic power excitement lent him, and, seeing him so moved, +the vindictive orator came back at him fiercer than ever, to launch +some master-threat the world has unhappily lost: for as he came +with his whisking train, and shaking his fist, Gerard hurled the bolster +furiously in his face, and knocked him down like a shot, the boy's +head cracked under his falling master's, and crash went the dumb-strickened +orator into the basket; and there sat wedged in an inverted +angle, crushing phial after phial. The boy, being light, +was strewed afar; but in a squatting posture: so that they sat +in a sequence like graduated specimens, the smaller howling. But +soon the doctor's face filled with horror, and he uttered a far louder +and unearthly screech, and kicked and struggled with wonderful +agility for one of his age.</p> + +<p>He was sitting on the hot coals.</p> + +<p>They had singed the cloth and were now biting the man. Struggling +wildly but vainly to get out of the basket, he rolled yelling +over with it sideways, and lo! a great hissing: then the humane +Gerard ran and wrenched off the tight basket not without a struggle. +The doctor lay on his face groaning, handsomely singed with his +own chafer, and slaked a moment too late by his own villainous +compounds, which however, being as various and even beautiful +in colour, as they were odious in taste, had strangely diversified his +grey robe and painted it more gaudy than neat.</p> + +<p>Gerard and Denys raised him up and consoled him. "Courage,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +man, 'tis but cautery; balm of Gilead; why you recommended it +but now to my comrade here."</p> + +<p>The physician replied only by a look of concentrated spite, and +went out in dead silence, thrusting his stomach forth before him in +the drollest way. The boy followed him next moment, but in that +slight interval he left off whining, burst in a grin, and conveyed to +the culprits by an unrefined gesture his accurate comprehension of, +and rapturous though compressed joy at, his master's disaster.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE worthy physician went home and told his housekeeper +he was in agony from "a bad burn." Those were the +words. For in phlogistic, as in other things, we cauterize +our neighbour's digits, but burn our own fingers. His housekeeper +applied some old woman's remedy mild as milk. He submitted +like a lamb to her experience: his sole object in the case of this +patient being cure: meantime he made out his bill for broken phials, +and took measures to have the travellers imprisoned at once. He +made oath before a magistrate that they, being strangers and indebted +to him, meditated instant flight from the township.</div> + +<p>Alas! it was his unlucky day. His sincere desire, and honest +endeavour, to perjure himself, were baffled by a circumstance he +had never foreseen nor indeed thought possible.</p> + +<p>He had spoken the truth.</p> + +<p>And <span class="smcap">in an affidavit</span>!</p> + +<p>The officers, on reaching the Silver Lion, found the birds were +flown.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>They went down to the river, and, from intelligence they received +there started up the bank in hot pursuit.</p> + +<p>This temporary escape the friends owed to Denys's good sense +and observation. After a peal of laughter, that it was a cordial +to hear, and after venting his watchword three times, he turned short +grave, and told Gerard Dusseldorf was no place for them. "That +old fellow," said he, "went off unnaturally silent for such a babbler: +we are strangers here: <i>the bailiff is his friend:</i> in five minutes we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +shall lie in a dungeon for assaulting a Dusseldorf dignity: are you +strong enough to hobble to the water's edge? it is hard by. Once +there you have but to lie down in a boat instead of a bed: and +what is the odds?"</p> + +<p>"The odds? Denys? untold, and all in favour of the boat. I +pine for Rome: for Rome is my road to Sevenbergen: and then we +shall lie in the boat, but <span class="smcap">on</span> the Rhine, the famous Rhine: the cool, +refreshing Rhine. I feel its breezes coming: the very sight will +cure a little hop-o'-my-thumb fever like mine; away! away!"</p> + +<p>Finding his excitable friend in this mood, Denys settled hastily +with the landlord, and they hurried to the river. On inquiry they +found to their dismay that the public boat was gone this half-hour, +and no other would start that day, being afternoon. By dint however +of asking a great many questions, and collecting a crowd, they +obtained an offer of a private boat from an old man and his two sons.</p> + +<p>This was duly ridiculed by a bystander. "The current is too +strong for three oars."</p> + +<p>"Then my comrade and I will help row," said the invalid.</p> + +<p>"No need," said the old man. "Bless your silly heart, <i>he</i> owns +t'other boat."</p> + +<p>There was a powerful breeze right astern; the boatmen set a +broad sail, and, rowing also, went off at a spanking rate.</p> + +<p>"Are ye better, lad, for the river breeze?"</p> + +<p>"Much better. But indeed the doctor did me good."</p> + +<p>"The doctor? Why you would none of his cures."</p> + +<p>"No, but I mean—you will say I am nought—but knocking the +old fool down—somehow—it soothed me."</p> + +<p>"Amiable dove! how thy little character opens more and more +every day, like a rosebud. I read thee all wrong at first."</p> + +<p>"Nay, Denys, mistake me not, neither. I trust I had borne with +his idle threats, though in sooth his voice went through my poor +ears: but he was an infidel, or next door to one, and such I have been +taught to abhor. Did he not as good as say, we owed our inward +parts to men with long Greek names, and not to Him, whose name +is but a syllable, but whose hand is over all the earth? Pagan!"</p> + +<p>"So you knocked him down forthwith—like a good Christian."</p> + +<p>"Now Denys, you will still be jesting. Take not an ill man's +part! Had it been a thunderbolt from Heaven, he had met but +his due; yet he took but a sorry bolster from this weak arm."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What weak arm?" inquired Denys with twinkling eyes. "I have +lived among arms, and by Samson's hairy paw never saw I one +more like a catapult. The bolster wrapped round his nose and the +two ends kissed behind his head, and his forehead resounded, and +had he been Goliath, or Julius Cæsar, instead of an old quacksalver, +down he had gone. St. Denys guard me from such feeble opposites +as thou! and above all from their weak arms—thou diabolical young +hypocrite."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The river took many turns, and this sometimes brought the wind +on their side instead of right astern. Then they all moved to the +weather side to prevent the boat heeling over too much; all but a +child of about five years old, the grandson of the boatman, and his +darling: this urchin had slipped on board at the moment of starting, +and being too light to affect the boat's trim was above, or rather +below, the laws of navigation.</p> + +<p>They sailed merrily on, little conscious that they were pursued +by a whole posse of constables armed with the bailiff's writ, and +that their pursuers were coming up with them: for, if the wind was +strong, so was the current.</p> + +<p>And now Gerard suddenly remembered that this was a very good +way to Rome but not to Burgundy. "Oh Denys," said he with an +almost alarmed look, "this is not your road."</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Denys quietly. "But what can I do? I cannot +leave thee till the fever leaves thee: and 'tis on thee still; for thou +art both red and white by turns; I have watched thee. I must e'en +go on to Cologne I doubt, and then strike across."</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven," said Gerard, joyfully. He added eagerly with +a little touch of self-deception, "'Twere a sin to be so near Cologne +and not see it. Oh man, it is a vast and ancient city, such as I +have often dreamed of, but ne'er had the good luck to see. Me +miserable, by what hard fortune do I come to it now. Well then, +Denys," continued the young man less warmly, "it is old enough to +have been founded by a Roman lady in the first century of grace, +and sacked by Attila the barbarous, and afterwards sore defaced +by the Norman Lothaire. And it has a church for every week in the +year, forbye chapels and churches innumerable of convents and +nunneries, and above all the stupendous minster yet unfinished, +and therein, but in their own chapel, lie the three kings that brought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +gifts to our Lord, Melchior gold, and Gaspar frankincense, and +Balthazar the black king, he brought myrrh: and over their bones +stands the shrine the wonder of the world; it is of ever-shining +brass brighter than gold, studded with images fairly wrought, and +inlaid with exquisite devices, and brave with colours; and two +broad stripes run to and fro of jewels so great so rare, each might +adorn a crown or ransom its wearer at need: and upon it stand the +three kings curiously counterfeited, two in solid silver richly gilt; +these be bareheaded; but he of Æthiop ebony, and beareth a golden +crown: and in the midst our blessed Lady in virgin silver, with +Christ in her arms; and at the corners, in golden branches, four +goodly waxen tapers do burn night and day. Holy eyes have watched +and renewed that light unceasingly for ages, and holy eyes shall +watch them in sæcula. I tell thee, Denys, the oldest song, the +oldest Flemish or German legend, found them burning, and they +shall light the earth to its grave. And there is St. Ursel's church, +a British saint's, where lie her bones and all the other virgins her fellows: +eleven thousand were they who died for the faith, being put to +the sword by barbarous Moors, on the twenty-third day of October, +two hundred and thirty-eight: their bones are piled in the +vaults, and many of their skulls are in the church. St. Ursel's is +in a thin golden case, and stands on the high altar, but shown to +humble Christians only on solemn days."</p> + +<p>"Eleven thousand virgins!" cried Denys. "What babies German +men must have been in days of yore. Well: would all their +bones might turn flesh again, and their skulls sweet faces, as we +pass through the gates. 'Tis odds but some of them are wearied +of their estate by this time."</p> + +<p>"Tush, Denys!" said Gerard; "why wilt thou, being good, still +make thyself seem evil? If thy wishing-cap be on, pray that we +may meet the meanest she of all those wise virgins in the next +world: and, to that end, let us reverence their holy dust in this one. +And then there is the church of the Maccabees, and the caldron, in +which they and their mother Solomona were boiled by a wicked +king for refusing to eat swine's flesh."</p> + +<p>"O peremptory king! and pig-headed Maccabees! I had eaten +bacon with my pork liever than change places at the fire with my +meat."</p> + +<p>"What scurvy words are these? it was their faith."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nay, bridle thy choler, and tell me, are there nought but +churches in this thy so vaunted city? For I affect rather Sir Knight +than Sir Priest."</p> + +<p>"Ay marry, there is an university near a hundred years old; +and there is a market place; no fairer in the world: and at the +four sides of it houses great as palaces; and there is a stupendious +senate-house all covered with images, and at the head of them stands +one of stout Herman Gryn, a soldier like thyself, lad."</p> + +<p>"Ay. Tell me of him! what feat of arms earned him his niche?"</p> + +<p>"A rare one. He slew a lion in fair combat, with nought but his +cloak and a short sword. He thrust the cloak in the brute's mouth, +and cut his spine in twain, and there is the man's effigy and eke the +lion's to prove it. The like was never done but by three more I ween; +Samson was one, and Lysimachus of Macedon another, and Benaiah, +a captain of David's host."</p> + +<p>"Marry! three tall fellows. I would like well to sup with them +all to-night."</p> + +<p>"So would not I," said Gerard drily.</p> + +<p>"But tell me," said Denys, with some surprise, "when wast thou +in Cologne?"</p> + +<p>"Never, but in the spirit. I prattle with the good monks by the +way, and they tell me all the notable things both old and new."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, have not I seen your nose under their very cowls? But +when I speak of matters that are out of sight, my words they +are small, and the thing it was big: now thy words be as big or +bigger than the things; art a good limner with thy tongue; I have +said it: and, for a saint, as ready with hand, or steel, or bolster—as +any poor sinner living: and so, shall I tell thee which of all these +things thou has described draws me to Cologne?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, Denys."</p> + +<p>"Thou, and thou only; no dead saint, but my living friend and +comrade true; 'tis thou alone draws Denys of Burgundy to Cologne."</p> + +<p>Gerard hung his head.</p> + +<p>At this juncture one of the younger boatmen suddenly inquired +what was amiss with "little turnip-face?"</p> + +<p>His young nephew thus described had just come aft grave as a +judge, and burst out crying in the midst without more ado. On<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +this phenomenon, so sharply defined, he was subjected to many interrogatories, +some coaxingly uttered, some not. Had he hurt himself? +had he over-ate himself? was he frightened? was he cold? was he +sick? was he an idiot?</p> + +<p>To all and each he uttered the same reply, which English writers +render thus, oh! oh! oh! and French writers thus, hi! hi! hi! So +fixed are Fiction's phonetics.</p> + +<p>"Who can tell what ails the peevish brat?" snarled the young +boatman impatiently. "Rather look this way and tell me whom be +these after!" The old man and his other son looked, and saw four +men walking along the east bank of the river; at the sight they +left rowing awhile, and gathered mysteriously in the stern, whispering +and casting glances alternately at their passengers and the pedestrians.</p> + +<p>The sequel may show they would have employed speculation better +in trying to fathom the turnip-face mystery: I beg pardon of my age: +I mean "the deep mind of dauntless infancy."</p> + +<p>"If 'tis as I doubt," whispered one of the young men, "why not +give them a squeak for their lives; let us make for the west bank."</p> + +<p>The old man objected stoutly. "What," said he, "run our heads +into trouble for strangers? are ye mad? Nay, let us rather cross to +the east side: still side with the strong arm! that is my rede. What +say you, Werter?"</p> + +<p>"I say, please yourselves."</p> + +<p>What age and youth could not decide upon, a puff of wind settled +most impartially. Came a squall and the little vessel heeled over: the +men jumped to windward to trim her: but, to their horror, they saw +in the very boat from stem to stern a ditch of water rushing to leeward, +and the next moment they saw nothing, but felt the Rhine: the +cold and rushing Rhine.</p> + +<p>"Turnip-face" had drawn the plug.</p> + +<p>The officers unwound the cords from their waists.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Gerard could swim like a duck: but the best swimmer, canted out +of a boat capsized, must sink ere he can swim. The dark water +bubbled louder over his head, and then he came up almost blind and +deaf for a moment: the next he saw the black boat bottom uppermost, +and figures clinging to it; he shook his head like a water-dog and +made for it by a sort of unthinking imitation: but ere he reached it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +he heard a voice behind him cry not loud but with deep manly distress, +"Adieu, comrade, adieu!"</p> + +<p>He looked, and there was poor Denys sinking, sinking, weighed +down by his wretched arbalest. His face was pale, and his eyes +staring wide, and turned despairingly on his dear friend. Gerard +uttered a wild cry of love and terror, and made for him, cleaving +the water madly; but the next moment Denys was under water.</p> + +<p>The next, Gerard was after him.</p> + +<p>The officers knotted a rope and threw the end in.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THINGS good and evil balance themselves in a remarkable +manner; and almost universally. The steel bow attached +to the arbalestrier's back, and carried above his head, had +sunk him. That very steel bow, owing to that very position, could +not escape Gerard's hands, one of which grasped it, and the other +went between the bow and the cord; which was as good. The next +moment, Denys, by means of his cross-bow, was hoisted with so eager +a jerk that half his body bobbed up out of water.</div> + +<p>"Now, grip me not! grip me not!" cried Gerard, in mortal terror +of that fatal mistake.</p> + +<p>"Pas si bête," gurgled Denys.</p> + +<p>Seeing the sort of stuff he had to deal with, Gerard was hopeful +and calm directly. "On thy back," said he sharply, and seizing +the arbalest and taking a stroke forward he aided the desired movement. +"Hand on my shoulder! slap the water with the other hand! +No—with a downward motion: so. Do nothing more than I bid +thee." Gerard had got hold of Denys's long hair, and twisting it +hard, caught the end between his side teeth, and with the strong +muscles of his youthful neck easily kept up the soldier's head, and +struck out lustily across the current. A moment he had hesitated +which side to make for, little knowing the awful importance of that +simple decision; then, seeing the west bank a trifle nearest, he made +towards it, instead of swimming to jail like a good boy, and so +furnishing one a novel incident. Owing to the force of the +current they slanted considerably, and, when they had covered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +near a hundred yards, Denys murmured uneasily, "How much +more of it?"</p> + +<p>"Courage," mumbled Gerard. "Whatever a duck knows, a Dutchman +knows; art safe as in bed."</p> + +<p>The next moment, to their surprise, they found themselves in +shallow water; and so waded ashore. Once on terra firma, they +looked at one another from head to foot as if eyes could devour, +then by one impulse flung each an arm round the other's neck, and +panted there with hearts too full to speak. And at this sacred moment +life was sweet as heaven to both; sweetest perhaps to the poor +exiled lover, who had just saved his friend. Oh, joy to whose height +what poet has yet soared, or ever tried to soar? To save a human +life: and that life a loved one. Such moments are worth living +for, ay threescore years and ten. And then, calmer, they took hands, +and so walked along the bank hand-in-hand like a pair of sweethearts, +scarce knowing or caring whither they went.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The boat people were all safe on the late concave now convex craft, +Herr Turnip-face, the "Inverter of things," being in the middle. +All this fracas seemed not to have essentially deranged his habits. +At least he was greeting when he shot our friends into the Rhine, +and greeting when they got out again.</p> + +<p>"Shall we wait till they right the boat?"</p> + +<p>"No, Denys, our fare is paid; we owe them nought. Let us +on, and briskly."</p> + +<p>Denys assented, observing that they could walk all the way to +Cologne on this bank.</p> + +<p>"I fare not to Cologne," was the calm reply.</p> + +<p>"Why, whither then?"</p> + +<p>"To Burgundy."</p> + +<p>"To Burgundy? Ah, no! that is too good to be sooth."</p> + +<p>"Sooth 'tis; and sense into the bargain. What matters it to me +how I go to Rome."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; you but say so to pleasure me. The change is too +sudden: and think me not so ill hearted as take you at your word. +Also did I not see your eyes sparkle at the wonders of Cologne? the +churches, the images, the relics—"</p> + +<p>"How dull art thou, Denys; that was when we were to enjoy +them together. Churches; I shall see plenty, go Romeward how I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +will. The bones of saints and martyrs; alas! the world is full of +them: but a friend like thee, where on earth's face shall I find +another? No, I will not turn thee farther from the road that leads +to thy dear home, and her that pines for thee. Neither will I rob +myself of thee by leaving thee. Since I drew thee out of Rhine +I love thee better than I did. Thou art my pearl: I fished thee; +and must keep thee. So gainsay me not, or thou wilt bring back +my fever; but cry courage, and lead on; and hey for Burgundy!"</p> + +<p>Denys gave a joyful caper. "Courage! va pour la Bourgogne. +Oh! soyez tranquille! cette fois il est bien décidément mort, ce coquin +là." And they turned their backs on the Rhine.</p> + +<p>On this decision making itself clear, across the Rhine there was +a commotion in the little party that had been watching the discussion, +and the friends had not taken many steps, ere a voice came to them +over the water. "HALT!"</p> + +<p>Gerard turned, and saw one of those four holding out a badge +of office and a parchment slip. His heart sank; for he was a good +citizen, and used to obey the voice that now bade him turn again to +Dusseldorf—the Law's.</p> + +<p>Denys did not share his scruples. He was a Frenchman, and +despised every other nation, laws, inmates and customs included. +He was a soldier, and took a military view of the situation. Superior +force opposed; river between; rear open; why, 'twas retreat +made easy. He saw at a glance that the boat still drifted in mid +stream, and there was no ferry nearer than Dusseldorf. "I shall +beat a retreat to that hill," said he, "and then, being out of sight, +quick step."</p> + +<p>They sauntered off.</p> + +<p>"Halt, in the bailiff's name!" cried a voice from the shore.</p> + +<p>Denys turned round and ostentatiously snapped his fingers at the +bailiff, and proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Halt! in the archbishop's name."</p> + +<p>Denys snapped his fingers at his grace, and proceeded.</p> + +<p>"Halt! in the emperor's name."</p> + +<p>Denys snapped his fingers at his majesty, and proceeded.</p> + +<p>Gerard saw this needless pantomime with regret, and as soon as +they had passed the brow of the hill said, "There is now but one +course, we must run to Burgundy instead of walking;" and he set +off, and ran the best part of a league without stopping.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span></p> + +<p>Denys was fairly blown, and inquired what on earth had become +of Gerard's fever. "I begin to miss it sadly," said he drily.</p> + +<p>"I dropped it in Rhine, I trow," was the reply.</p> + +<p>Presently they came to a little village, and here Denys purchased +a loaf and a huge bottle of Rhenish wine. For he said "we must +sleep in some hole or corner. If we lie at an inn we shall be taken +in our beds." This was no more than common prudence on the +old soldier's part.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The official network for catching law-breakers, especially plebeian +ones, was very close in that age; though the co-operation of the public +was almost null, at all events upon the Continent. The innkeepers +were everywhere under close surveillance as to their travellers, for +whose acts they were even in some degree responsible, more so it +would seem than for their sufferings.</p> + +<p>The friends were both glad when the sun set: and delighted, +when after a long trudge under the stars (for the moon, if I remember +right, did not rise till about 3 in the morning) they came to a +large barn belonging to a house at some distance. A quantity of +barley had been lately thrashed: for the heap of straw on one +side the thrashing floor was almost as high as the unthrashed corn +on the other.</p> + +<p>"Here be two royal beds," said Denys, "which shall we lie on, +the mow, or the straw?"</p> + +<p>"The straw for me," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>They sat on the heap, and ate their brown bread, and drank their +wine, and then Denys covered his friend up in straw, and heaped it +high above him, leaving him only a breathing-hole: "Water they say +is death to fevered men; I'll make warm water on't any how."</p> + +<p>Gerard bade him make his mind easy. "These few drops from +Rhine cannot chill me. I feel heat enough in my body now to +parch a kennel, or boil a cloud if I was in one." And with this +epigram his consciousness went so rapidly he might really be said to +"fall asleep."</p> + +<p>Denys, who lay awake awhile, heard that which made him nestle +closer. Horses' hoofs came ringing up from Dusseldorf, and the +wooden barn vibrated as they rattled past howling in a manner too +well known and understood in the 15th century, but as unfamiliar in +Europe now as a red Indian's war-whoop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> + +<p>Denys shook where he lay.</p> + +<p>Gerard slept like a top.</p> + +<p>It all swept by, and troop and howls died away.</p> + +<p>The stout soldier drew a long breath; whistled in a whisper; +closed his eyes; and slept like top 2.</p> + +<p>In the morning he sat up and put out his hand to wake Gerard. +It lighted on the young man's forehead, and found it quite wet. +Denys then in his quality of nurse forbore to wake him. "It is +ill to check sleep or sweat in a sick man," said he. "I know that far, +though I ne'er minced ape nor gallows-bird."</p> + +<p>After waiting a good hour, he felt desperately hungry: so he +turned and in self-defense went to sleep again.</p> + +<p>Poor fellow, in his hard life he had been often driven to this manœuvre. +At high noon he was waked by Gerard moving, and found +him sitting up with the straw smoking round him like a dunghill. +Animal heat versus moisture. Gerard called him "a lazy loon." +He quietly grinned.</p> + +<p>They set out, and the first thing Denys did was to give Gerard +his arbalest, etc., and mount a high tree on the road. "Coast clear +to the next village," said he, and on they went.</p> + +<p>On drawing near the village Denys halted and suddenly inquired +of Gerard how he felt.</p> + +<p>"What! can you not see? I feel as if Rome was no further than +yon hamlet."</p> + +<p>"But thy body, lad; thy skin?"</p> + +<p>"Neither hot nor cold: and yesterday t'was hot one while and cold +another. But what I cannot get rid of is this tiresome leg."</p> + +<p>"Le grand malheur! Many of my comrades have found no such +difficulty."</p> + +<p>"Ah! there it goes again; itches consumedly."</p> + +<p>"Unhappy youth," said Denys solemnly, "the sum of thy troubles +is this: thy fever is gone, and thy wound is—healing. Sith so it is," +added he indulgently, "I shall tell thee a little piece of news I had +otherwise withheld."</p> + +<p>"What is't?" asked Gerard sparkling with curiosity.</p> + +<p>"THE HUE AND CRY IS OUT AFTER US: AND ON +FLEET HORSES."</p> + +<p>"Oh!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERARD was staggered by this sudden communication; and +his colour came and went. Then he clenched his teeth with +ire. For men of any spirit at all are like the wild boar; he +will run from a superior force; owing perhaps to his not being an +ass: but if you stick to his heels too long, and too close, and, in short, +bore him, he will whirl, and come tearing at a multitude of hunters, +and perhaps bore you. Gerard then set his teeth and looked battle. +But the next moment his countenance fell and he said plaintively, +"And my axe is in Rhine."</div> + +<p>They consulted together. Prudence bade them avoid that village: +hunger said "buy food."</p> + +<p>Hunger spoke loudest. Prudence most convincingly. They settled +to strike across the fields.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>They halted at a haystack and borrowed two bundles of hay, and +lay on them in a dry ditch out of sight, but in nettles.</p> + +<p>They sallied out in turn and came back with turnips. These +they munched at intervals in their retreat until sunset.</p> + +<p>Presently they crept out shivering into the rain and darkness, and +got into the road on the other side of the village.</p> + +<p>It was a dismal night, dark as pitch and blowing hard. They +could neither see, nor hear, nor be seen nor heard: and for aught I +know passed like ghosts close to their foes. These they almost forgot +in the natural horrors of the black tempestuous night, in which +they seemed to grope and hew their way as in black marble. When +the moon rose they were many a league from Dusseldorf. But they +still trudged on. Presently they came to a huge building.</p> + +<p>"Courage!" cried Denys, "I think I know this convent. Ay, it is. +We are in the see of Juliers. Cologne has no power here."</p> + +<p>The next moment they were safe within the walls.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>HERE Gerard made acquaintance with a monk, who had constructed +the great dial in the prior's garden, and a wheel +for drawing water, and a winnowing machine for the +grain, &c.; and had ever some ingenious mechanism on hand. He +had made several psalteries and two dulcimers, and was now attempting +a set of regalles, or little organ for the choir.</div> + +<p>Now Gerard played the humble psaltery a little: but the monk +touched that instrument divinely, and showed him most agreeably +what a novice he was in music. He also illuminated finely, but +could not write so beautifully as Gerard. Comparing their acquirements +with the earnestness and simplicity of an age in which accomplishments +implied a true natural bent, Youth and Age soon became +like brothers, and Gerard was pressed hard to stay that night. He +consulted Denys, who assented with a rueful shrug.</p> + +<p>Gerard told his old new friend whither he was going, and described +their late adventures, softening down the bolster.</p> + +<p>"Alack!" said the good old man, "I have been a great traveller +in my day: but none molested me." He then told him to avoid inns; +they were always haunted by rogues and roysterers, whence his soul +might take harm even did his body escape; and to manage each +day's journey so as to lie at some peaceful monastery; then suddenly +breaking off and looking as sharp as a needle at Gerard, he asked +him how long since he had been shriven? Gerard coloured up and +replied feebly—</p> + +<p>"Better than a fortnight."</p> + +<p>"And thou an exorcist! No wonder perils have overtaken thee. +Come, thou must be assoiled out of hand."</p> + +<p>"Yes, father," said Gerard, "and with all mine heart;" and was +sinking down to his knees, with his hands joined; but the monk +stopped him half fretfully—</p> + +<p>"Not to me! not to me! not to me! I am as full of the world as +thou or any he that lives in't. My whole soul it is in these wooden +pipes, and sorry leathern stops, which shall perish—with them whose +minds are fixed on suchlike vanities."</p> + +<p>"Dear father," said Gerard, "they are for the use of the Church, +and surely that sanctifies the pains and labour spent on them?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That is just what the devil has been whispering in mine ear this +while," said the monk, putting one hand behind his back and shaking +his finger half threateningly, half playfully, at Gerard: "he was even +so kind and thoughtful as to mind me that Solomon built the Lord a +house with rare hangings, and that this in him was counted gracious +and no sin. Oh! he can quote Scripture rarely. But I am not so +simple a monk as you think, my lad," cried the good father with +sudden defiance, addressing not Gerard but—Vacancy. "This one +toy finished, vigils, fasts, and prayers for me; prayers standing, +prayers lying on the chapel floor, and prayers in a right good tub of +cold water." He nudged Gerard and winked his eye knowingly. +"Nothing he hates and dreads like seeing us monks at our orisons up +to our chins in cold water. For corpus domat aqua. So now go +confess thy little trumpery sins, pardonable in youth and secularity, +and leave me to mine, sweet to me as honey, and to be expiated in +proportion."</p> + +<p>Gerard bowed his head, but could not help saying, "Where shall +I find a confessor more holy and clement?"</p> + +<p>"In each of these cells," replied the monk, simply (they were +now in the corridor): "there go to Brother Anselm, yonder."</p> + +<p>Gerard followed the monk's direction and made for a cell; but +the doors were pretty close to one another, and it seems he mistook: +for just as he was about to tap, he heard his old friend crying to him +in an agitated whisper, "Nay! nay! nay!" He turned, and there +was the monk at his celldoor in a strange state of anxiety, going up +and down and beating the air double-handed, like a bottom sawyer. +Gerard really thought the cell he was at must be inhabited by some +dangerous wild beast, if not by that personage, whose presence in +the convent had been so distinctly proclaimed. He looked back inquiringly +and went on to the next door. Then his old friend nodded +his head rapidly, bursting in a moment into a comparatively blissful +expression of face, and shot back into his den. He took his hour-glass, +turned it, and went to work on his regalles: and often he +looked up, and said to himself, "Well-a-day, the sands how swift +they run when the man is bent over earthly toys."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Father Anselm was a venerable monk, with an ample head, and a +face all dignity and love. Therefore Gerard in confessing to him, +and replying to his gentle though searching questions, could not help<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +thinking, "here is a head!—Oh dear! oh dear! I wonder whether you +will let me draw it when I have done confessing." And so his own +head got confused, and he forgot a crime or two. However he did +not lower the bolstering this time: nor was he so uncandid as to +detract from the pagan character of the bolstered.</p> + +<p>The penance inflicted was this: he was to enter the convent church, +and prostrating himself, kiss the lowest step of the altar three times: +then kneeling on the floor, to say three paternosters and a credo: +"this done come back to me on the instant."</p> + +<p>Accordingly, his short mortification performed, Gerard returned +and found Father Anselm spreading plaster.</p> + +<p>"After the soul the body," said he; "know that I am the chirurgeon +here, for want of a better. This is going on thy leg; to cool +it, not to burn it, the saints forbid."</p> + +<p>During the operation, the monastic leech, who had naturally been +interested by the Dusseldorf branch of Gerard's confession, rather +sided with Denys upon "bleeding." "We Dominicans seldom let +blood now-a-days; the lay leeches say 'tis from timidity and want of +skill; but, in sooth, we have long found that simples will cure most +of the ills that can be cured at all. Besides they never kill in capable +hands; and other remedies slay like thunderbolts. As for the blood, +the Vulgate saith expressly it is 'the life of a man.' And in medicine +or law, as in divinity, to be wiser than the All-wise is to be a fool. +Moreover, simples are mighty. The little four-footed creature that +kills the poisonous snake, if bitten herself finds an herb powerful +enough to quell that poison, though stronger and of swifter operation +than any mortal malady; and we, taught by her wisdom, and +our own traditions, still search and try the virtues of those plants the +good Goth hath strewed this earth with some to feed men's bodies, +some to heal them. Only in desperate ills we mix heavenly with +earthly virtue. We steep the hair or the bones of some dead saint +in the medicine, and thus work marvellous cures."</p> + +<p>"Think you, father, it is along of the reliques? for Peter a Floris, +a learned leech and no pagan, denies it stoutly."</p> + +<p>"What knows Peter a Floris? And what know I? I take not +on me to say we can command the saints, and, will they nill they, can +draw corporal virtue from their blest remains. But I see that the +patient drinking thus in faith is often bettered as by a charm. +Doubtless faith in the recipient is for much in all these cures. But,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +so 'twas ever. A sick woman, that all the Jewish leeches failed to +cure, did but touch Christ's garment and was healed in a moment. +Had she not touched that sacred piece of cloth she had never been +healed. Had she without faith not touched it only, but worn it to +her grave, I trow she had been none the better for't. But we do +ill to search these things too curiously. All we see around us calls +for faith. Have then a little patience! We shall soon know all. +Meantime, I, thy confessor for the nonce, do strictly forbid thee +on thy soul's health to hearken learned lay folk on things religious. +Arrogance is their bane; with it they shut heaven's open door in +their own faces. Mind I say learned laics. Unlearned ones have +often been my masters in humility, and may be thine. Thy wound +is cared for; in three days 'twill be but a scar. And now God speed +thee, and the saints make thee as good, and as happy, as thou art +beautiful and gracious." Gerard hoped there was no need to part +yet; for he was to dine in the refectory. But Father Anselm told +him, with a shade of regret just perceptible and no more, that he +did not leave his cell this week, being himself in penitence, and, +with this he took Gerard's head delicately in both hands, and kissed +him on the brow: and almost before the cell door had closed on him, +was back to his pious offices. Gerard went away chilled to +the heart by the isolation of the monastic life: and saddened +too. "Alas!" he thought, "here is a kind face I must never +look to see again on earth; a kind voice gone from mine ear and my +heart forever. There is nothing but meeting and parting in this +sorrowful world. Well-a-day! well-a-day!" This pensive mood +was interrupted by a young monk who came for him and took him +to the refectory; there he found several monks seated at a table, and +Denys standing like a poker, being examined as to the towns he +should pass through: the friars then clubbed their knowledge, and +marked out the route, noting all the religious houses on or near that +road; and this they gave Gerard. Then supper, and after it the old +monk carried Gerard to his cell, and they had an eager chat, and the +friar incidentally revealed the cause of his pantomime in the corridor. +"Ye had well-nigh fallen into Brother Jerome's clutches. +Yon was his cell."</p> + +<p>"Is Father Jerome an ill man, then?"</p> + +<p>"An ill man?" and the friar crossed himself; "a saint, an anchorite, +the very pillar of this house! He had sent ye barefoot to Loretto.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +Nay, I forgot, y'are bound for Italy: the spiteful old—saint +upon earth, had sent ye to Canterbory or Compostella. But Jerome +was born old and with a cowl; Anselm and I were boys once; and +wicked beyond anything you can imagine" (Gerard wore a somewhat +incredulous look), "this keeps us humble more or less, and makes us +reasonably lenient to youth and hot blood."</p> + +<p>Then, at Gerard's earnest request, one more heavenly strain upon +the psalterion, and so to bed, the troubled spirit calmed, and the sore +heart soothed.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>I have described in full this day, marked only by contrast, a day +that came like oil on waves after so many passions and perils—because +it must stand in this narrative as the representative of many +such days which now succeeded to it. For our travellers on their +weary way experienced that, which most of my readers will find +in the longer journey of life, viz., that stirring events are not evenly +distributed over the whole road, but come by fits and starts, and, as +it were, in clusters. To some extent this may be because they draw +one another by links more or less subtle. But there is more in it +than that. It happens so. Life is an intermittent fever. Now +all narrators whether of history or fiction, are compelled to slur +these barren portions of time—or else line trunks. The practice +however tends to give the unguarded reader a wrong arithmetical +impression, which there is a particular reason for avoiding in these +pages as far as possible. I invite therefore your intelligence to +my aid, and ask you to try and realize that, although there were +no more vivid adventures for a long while, one day's march succeeded +another; one monastery after another fed and lodged them +gratis with a welcome always charitable, sometimes genial; and, +though they met no enemy but winter and rough weather, antagonist +not always contemptible, yet they trudged over a much larger tract +of territory than that, their passage through which I have described +so minutely. And so the pair, Gerard bronzed in the face and +travel-stained from head to foot, and Denys with his shoes in +tatters, stiff and footsore both of them, drew near the Burgundian +frontier.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERALD was almost as eager for this promised land as +Denys; for the latter constantly chanted its praises, and at +every little annoyance showed him "they did things better in +Burgundy"; and above all played on his foible by guaranteeing +clean bed-clothes at the inns of that polished nation. "I ask no +more," the Hollander would say; "to think that I have not lain +once in a naked bed since I left home! When I look at their linen, +instead of doffing habit and hose, it is mine eyes and nose I would +fain be shut of."</div> + +<p>Denys carried his love of country so far as to walk twenty +leagues in shoes that had exploded, rather than buy of a German +churl, who would throw all manner of obstacles in a customer's +way, his incivility, his dinner, his body.</p> + +<p>Towards sunset they found themselves at equal distances from +a little town and a monastery: only the latter was off the road. +Denys was for the inn, Gerard for the convent. Denys gave way, +but on condition that, once in Burgundy, they should always stop at +an inn. Gerard consented to this the more readily that his chart +with its list of convents ended here. So they turned off the road. +And now Gerard asked with surprise hence this sudden aversion to +places, that had fed and lodged them gratis so often. The soldier +hemm'd and hawed at first; but at last his wrongs burst forth. It +came out that this was no sudden aversion, but an ancient and +abiding horror, which he had suppressed till now, but with infinite +difficulty, and out of politeness: "I saw they had put powder in +your drink," said he. "So I forbore them. However, being the +last, why not ease my mind? Know then I have been like a fish +out of water in all those great dungeons. You straightway levant +with some old shaveling: so you see not my purgatory."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me! I have been selfish."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, I forgive thee, little one: 'tis not thy fault: art not the +first fool that has been priest-rid, and monk-bit. But I'll not forgive +<i>them</i> my misery." Then, about a century before Henry +VIII.'s commissioners, he delivered his indictment. These gloomy +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span>piles were all built alike. Inns differed, but here all was monotony.<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Great gate, little gate, so many steps and then a gloomy cloister.</span><br /> +Here the dortour, there the great cold refectory, where you +must sit mumchance, or at least inaudible, he who liked to speak his +mind out: "and then," said he, "nobody is a man here, but all are +slaves, and of what? of a peevish, tinkling bell, that never sleeps. +An 'twere a trumpet now, aye sounding alarums, 'twouldn't freeze +a man's heart so. Tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, and you must sit to +meat with maybe no stomach for food. Ere your meat settles in +your stomach, tinkle, tinkle, and ye must to church with maybe no +stomach for devotion: I am not a hog at prayers, for one. Tinkle, +tinkle! and now you must to bed with your eyes open. Well, +by then you have contrived to shut them, some uneasy imp of darkness +has got to the bell-rope, and tinkle, tinkle, it behoves you to +say a prayer in the dark, whether you know one or not. If they +heard the sort of prayers I mutter when they break my rest with +their tinkle! Well, you drop off again and get about an eyeful +of sleep; lo, it is tinkle, tinkle, for matins."</p> + +<p>"And the only clapper you love is a woman's," put in Gerard +half contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"Because there is some music in that even when it scolds," was +the stout reply. "And then to be always checked. If I do but +put my finger in the salt-cellar, straightway I hear, 'Have you no +knife that you finger the salt?' And if I but wipe my knife on the +cloth to save time, then 'tis, 'Wipe thy knife dirty on the bread, +and clean upon the cloth!' Oh small of soul! these little peevish +pedantries fall chill upon good fellowship like wee icicles a-melting +down from strawen eaves."</p> + +<p>"I hold cleanliness no pedantry," said Gerard. "Shouldst learn +better manners once for all."</p> + +<p>"Nay. 'Tis they who lack manners. They stop a fellow's mouth +at every word."</p> + +<p>"At every other word you mean; every obscene or blasphemous +one."</p> + +<p>"Exaggerator, go to! Why, at the very last of these dungeons, I +found the poor travellers sitting all chilled and mute round one +shaveling, like rogues awaiting their turn to be hanged: so to cheer +them up, I did but cry out, 'Courage, tout le monde, le dia—'"</p> + +<p>"Connu! what befell?"</p> + +<p>"Marry, this. 'Blaspheme not!' quo' the bourreau. 'Plait-il,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +say I. Doesn't he wheel and wyte on me in a sort of Alsatian +French, turning all the 'P's' into 'B's.' I had much ado not to +laugh in his face."</p> + +<p>"Being thyself unable to speak ten words of <i>his</i> language without +a fault."</p> + +<p>"Well, all the world ought to speak French. What avail so many +jargons except to put a frontier atwixt men's hearts?"</p> + +<p>"But what said he."</p> + +<p>"What signifies it what a fool says?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, not all the words of a fool are folly: or I should not listen to +you."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, he said, 'such as begin by making free with the +devil's name, aye end by doing it with all the names in heaven.' +'Father,' said I, 'I am a soldier, and this is but my "consigne" or +watchword.' 'Oh, then, it is just a custom?' said he. I not divining +the old fox, and thinking to clear myself, said, 'Ay, it was.' +'Then that is ten times worse,' said he. ''Twill bring him about +your ears one of these days. He still comes where he hears his +name often called.' Observe! no gratitude for the tidings which +neither his missals nor his breviary had ever let him know. Then +he was so good as to tell me, soldiers do commonly the crimes for +which all other men are broke on the wheel; 'à savoir' murder, +rape, and pillage."</p> + +<p>"And is't not true?"</p> + +<p>"True or not, it was ill manners," replied Denys, guardedly. +"And so says this courteous host of mine, 'being the foes of mankind, +why make enemies of good spirits into the bargain, by still +shouting the names of evil ones?' and a lot more stuff."</p> + +<p>"Well, but Denys, whether you hearken his rede, or slight it, +wherefore blame a man for raising his voice to save your soul?"</p> + +<p>"How can his voice save my soul, when a keeps turning of his +'P's' into 'B's'?"</p> + +<p>Gerard was staggered: ere he could recover at this thunderbolt +of Gallicism, Denys went triumphant off at a tangent, and stigmatized +all monks as hypocrites. "Do but look at them, how they +creep about and cannot eye you like honest men."</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Gerard, eagerly, "that modest downcast gaze is part +of their discipline, 'tis 'custodia oculorum.'"</p> + +<p>"Cussed toads eating hoc hac horum? No such thing; just so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +looks a cut-purse. Can't meet a true man's eye. Doff cowl, monk; +and behold, a thief: don cowl thief, and lo, a monk. Tell me not +they will ever be able to look God Almighty in the face, when they +can't even look a true man in the face down here. Ah, here it is, +black as ink! into the well we go, comrade. Miséricorde, there goes +the tinkle already. 'Tis the best of tinkles though; 'tis for dinner: +stay, listen! I thought so; the wolf in my stomach cried 'Amen!'" +This last statement he confirmed with two oaths, and marched like a +victorious gamecock into the convent, thinking by Gerard's silence +he had convinced him, and not dreaming how profoundly he had disgusted +him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IN the refectory allusion was made, at the table where Gerard +sat, to the sudden death of the monk, who had undertaken to +write out fresh copies of the charter of the monastery, and the +rule, etc.</div> + +<p>Gerard caught this, and timidly offered his services. There +was a hesitation which he mistook. "Nay, not for hire, my lords, +but for love, and as a trifling return for many a good night's lodging +the brethren of your order have bestowed on me a poor wayfarer."</p> + +<p>A monk smiled approvingly; but hinted that the late brother was +an excellent penman, and his work could not be continued but by +a master. Gerard, on this, drew from his wallet with some trepidation +a vellum deed, the back of which he had cleaned and written +upon by way of specimen. The monk gave quite a start at sight +of it, and very hastily went up the hall to the high table, and bending +his knee so as just to touch in passing the fifth step and the tenth, +or last, presented it to the prior with comments. Instantly a dozen +knowing eyes were fixed on it: and a buzz of voices was heard; and +soon Gerard saw the prior point more than once, and the monk +came back, looking as proud as Punch, with a savory crustade ryal, +or game pie gravied and spiced, for Gerard, and a silver grace cup +full of rich pimentum. This latter Gerard took, and bowing low, +first to the distant prior, then to his own company, quaffed, and circulated +the cup.</p> + +<p>Instantly, to his surprise, the whole table hailed him as a brother:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +"Art convent bred, deny it not?" He acknowledged it, and gave +Heaven thanks for it, for otherwise he had been as rude and ignorant +as his brothers, Sybrandt and Cornelis. "But, 'tis passing strange +how you could know," said he.</p> + +<p>"You drank with the cup in both hands," said two monks, speaking +together.</p> + +<p>The voices had for some time been loudish round a table at the +bottom of the hall: but presently came a burst of mirth so obstreperous +and prolonged, that the prior sent the very sub-prior all down +the hall to check it, and inflict penance on every monk at the table. +And Gerard's cheek burned with shame: for in the heart of the +unruly merriment his ear had caught the word "courage!" and the +trumpet tones of Denys of Burgundy.</p> + +<p>Soon Gerard was installed in feu Werter's cell, with wax lights, +and a little frame that could be set at any angle, and all the materials +of caligraphy. The work however was too much for one evening. +Then came the question, how could he ask Denys, the monk-hater, +to stay longer? However he told him, and offered to abide by +his decision. He was agreeably surprised when Denys said, graciously, +"A day's rest will do neither of us harm. Write thou, and +I'll pass the time as I may."</p> + +<p>Gerard's work was vastly admired; they agreed that the records +of the monastery had gained by poor Werter's death. The sub-prior +forced a rix-dollar on Gerard, and several brushes and colours +out of the convent stock, which was very large. He resumed his +march warm at heart: for this was of good omen; since it was on +the pen he relied to make his fortune and recover his well-beloved. +"Come, Denys," said he, good humouredly, "see what the good monks +have given me: now, do try to be fairer to them; for to be round with +you, it chilled my friendship for a moment to hear even you call my +benefactors 'hypocrites.'"</p> + +<p>"I recant," said Denys.</p> + +<p>"Thank you! thank you! Good Denys."</p> + +<p>"I was a scurrilous vagabond."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, say not so, neither!"</p> + +<p>"But we soldiers are rude and hasty. I give myself the lie, +and I offer those I misunderstood all my esteem. 'Tis unjust that +thousands should be defamed for the hypocrisy of a few."</p> + +<p>"Now are you reasonable. You have pondered what I said?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nay, it is their own doing."</p> + +<p>Gerard crowed a little, we all like to be proved in the right; +and was all attention when Denys offered to relate how his conversion +was effected.</p> + +<p>"Well then, at dinner the first day, a young monk beside me did +open his jaws and laughed right out most musically. 'Good,' said I, +'at last I have fallen on a man and not a shorn ape.' So, to sound +him further, I slapped his broad back and administered my consigne. +'Heaven forbid!' says he. I stared. For the dog looked as sad as +Solomon: a better mime saw you never, even at a Mystery. 'I see +war is no sharpener of the wits,' said he. 'What are the clergy for +but to fight the foul fiend? and what else are monks for?</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"The fiend being dead,<br /> +The friars are sped."<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>You may plough up the convents and we poor monks shall have +nought to do—but turn soldiers, and so bring him to life again.' +Then there was a great laugh at my expense. 'Well, you are the +monk for me,' said I. 'And you are the cross-bow-man for me,' quo' +he. 'And I'll be bound you could tell us tales of the war should +make our hair stand on end.' 'Excusez the barber has put that +out of question,' quoth I, and then I had the laugh."</div> + +<p>"What wretched ribaldry!" observed Gerard pensively.</p> + +<p>The candid Denys at once admitted he had seen merrier jests +hatched with less cackle. "'Twas a great matter to have got rid +of hypocrisy. 'So,' said I, 'I can give you the chare de poule, if that +may content ye.' 'That we will see,' was the cry, and a signal +went round."</p> + +<p>Denys then related, bursting with glee, how at bedtime he had been +taken to a cell instead of the great dortour, and strictly forbidden to +sleep; and, to aid his vigil, a book had been lent him of pictures +representing a hundred merry adventures of monks in pursuit of the +female laity: and how in due course he had been taken out barefooted +and down to the parlour, where was a supper fit for the duke, and +at it twelve jolly friars, the roaringest boys he had ever met in peace +or war. How the story, the toast, the jest, the wine cup had gone +round, and some had played cards with a gorgeous pack, where Saint +Theresa, and Saint Catharine, etc., bedizened with gold, stood for +the four queens; and black, white, grey, and crutched friars for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +the four knaves; and had staked their very rosaries, swearing like +troopers when they lost. And how about midnight a sly monk had +stolen out, but had by him and others been as cannily followed into +the garden, and seen to thrust his hand into the ivy and out with +a ropeladder. With this he had run up on the wall, which was ten +feet broad, yet not so nimbly but what a russet kirtle had popped up +from the outer world as quick as he: and so to billing and cooing: +that this situation had struck him as rather feline than ecclesiastical, +and drawn from him the appropriate comment of a "mew!" The +monks had joined the mewsical chorus, and the lay visitor shrieked +and been sore discomforted; but Abelard only cried "What, are ye +there, ye jealous miauling knaves? ye shall caterwaul to some tune +to-morrow night. I'll fit every manjack of ye with a fardingale." +That this brutal threat had reconciled him to stay another day—at +Gerard's request.</p> + +<p>Gerard groaned.</p> + +<p>Meantime, unable to disconcert so brazen a monk, and the demoiselle +beginning to whimper, they had danced caterwauling in a circle, +then bestowed a solemn benediction on the two wallflowers, and +off to the parlour, where they found a pair lying dead drunk, and +the other two affectionate to tears. That they had straightway carried +off the inanimate, and dragged off the loving and lachrymose, +kicked them all merrily each into his cell,</p> + +<div class='center'> +"And so shut up in measureless content."<br /> +</div> + +<p>Gerard was disgusted: and said so.</p> + +<p>Denys chuckled, and proceeded to tell him how the next day he +and the young monks had drawn the fish-ponds and secreted much +pike, carp, tench, and eel for their own use: and how in the dead +of night he had been taken shoeless by crooked ways into the chapel, +a ghostlike place, being dark, and then down some steps into a +crypt below the chapel floor, where suddenly paradise had burst on +him.</p> + +<p>"'Tis there the holy fathers retire to pray," put in Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Not always," said Denys: "wax candles by the dozen were +lighted, and princely cheer; fifteen soups maigre, with marvellous +twangs of venison, grouse, and hare in them, and twenty different +fishes (being Friday), cooked with wondrous art, and each he between +two buxom lasses, and each lass between two lads with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +cowl; all but me: and to think I had to woo by interpreter. I +doubt the knave put in three words for himself and one for me: if he +didn't, hang him for a fool. And some of the weaker vessels were +novices, and not wont to hold good wine: had to be coaxed ere they +would put it to their white teeth: mais elles s'y faisaient; and the +story, and the jest, and the cup went round (by-the-by they had +flagons made to simulate breviaries): and a monk touched the cittern, +and sang ditties with a voice tuneable as a lark in spring. +The posies did turn the faces of the women-folk bright red at first: +but elles s'y faisaient." Here Gerard exploded.</p> + +<p>"Miserable wretches! Corrupters of youth! Perverters of innocence! +but for you being there, Denys, who have been taught no +better, oh, would God the church had fallen on the whole gang. +Impious, abominable, hypocrites!"</p> + +<p>"Hypocrites?" cried Denys with unfeigned surprise. "Why that +is what I clept them ere I knew them: and you withstood me. Nay, +they are sinners; all good fellows are that: but, by St. Denys his +helmeted skull, no hypocrites, but right jolly roaring blades."</p> + +<p>"Denys," said Gerard solemnly; "you little know the peril you +ran that night. That church you defiled amongst you is haunted: I +had it from one of the elder monks. The dead walk there, their +light feet have been heard to patter o'er the stones."</p> + +<p>"Miséricorde!" whispered Denys.</p> + +<p>"Ay, more," said Gerard, lowering his voice almost to a whisper, +"celestial sounds have issued from the purlieus of that very crypt +you turned into a tavern. Voices of the dead holding unearthly +communion have chilled the ear of midnight, and at times, Denys, +the faithful in their nightly watches have even heard music from +dead lips; and chords, made by no mortal finger, swept by no mortal +hand, have rung faintly, like echoes, deep among the dead in those +sacred vaults."</p> + +<p>Denys wore a look of dismay. "Ugh! if I had known, mules +and wain-ropes had not hauled me thither; and so" (with a sigh) "I +had lost a merry time."</p> + +<p>Whether further discussion might have thrown any more light +upon these ghostly sounds who can tell? for up came a "bearded +brother" from the monastery, spurring his mule, and waving a piece +of vellum in his hand. It was the deed between Ghysbrecht and +Floris Brandt. Gerard valued it deeply as a remembrance of home:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +he turned pale at first but to think he had so nearly lost it, and to +Denys's infinite amusement not only gave a piece of money to the +lay brother, but kissed the mule's nose.</p> + +<p>"I'll read you now," said Gerard "were you twice as ill written; +and—to make sure of never losing you"—here he sat down and taking +out needle and thread sewed it with feminine dexterity to his +doublet, and his mind, and heart, and soul were away to Sevenbergen.</p> + +<p>They reached the promised land, and Denys, who was in high +spirits, doffed his bonnet to all the females; who curtsied and smiled +in return; fired his consigne at most of the men; at which some +stared, some grinned, some both; and finally landed his friend at +one of the long-promised Burgundian inns.</p> + +<p>"It is a little one," said he, "but I know it of old for a good one; +'Les Trois Poissons.' But what is this writ up? I mind not this:" +and he pointed to an inscription that ran across the whole building +in a single line of huge letters. "Oh I see. 'Ici on loge à pied et +à cheval,'" said Denys going minutely through the inscription, and +looking bumptious when he had effected it.</p> + +<p>Gerard did look, and the sentence in question ran thus—</p> + +<p>"ON NE LOGE CÉANS À CRÉDIT: CE BONHOMME EST +MORT, LES MAUVAIS PAIEURS L'ONT TUÉ."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THEY met the landlord in the passage.</div> + +<p>"Welcome, messieurs," said he taking off his cap with a +low bow.</p> + +<p>"Come, we are not in Germany," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>In the public room they found the mistress, a buxom woman of +forty. She curtsied to them and smiled right cordially. "Give +yourself the trouble of sitting ye down, fair sir," said she to Gerard, +and dusted two chairs with her apron, not that they needed it.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, dame," said Gerard. "Well," thought he, "this <i>is</i> a +polite nation: the trouble of sitting down? That will I with singular +patience; and presently the labour of eating, also the toil of +digestion, and finally, by Hercules his aid, the strain of going to +bed, and the struggle of sinking fast asleep."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, Denys, what are you doing? ordering supper for only +two?"</p> + +<p>"Why not?"</p> + +<p>"What can we sup without waiting for forty more? Burgundy +for ever!"</p> + +<p>"Aha! Courage, camarade. Le dia—"</p> + +<p>"C'est convenu."</p> + +<p>The salique law seemed not to have penetrated to French inns. +In this one at least wimple and kirtle reigned supreme; doublets and +hose were few in number and feeble in act. The landlord himself +wandered objectless, eternally taking off his cap to folk for want of +thought; and the women, as they passed him in turn, thrust him +quietly aside without looking at him, as we remove a live twig in +bustling through a wood.</p> + +<p>A maid brought in supper, and the mistress followed her empty +handed.</p> + +<p>"Fall to, my masters," said she cheerily, "y'have but one enemy +here; and he lies under your knife." (I shrewdly suspect this of +formula.)</p> + +<p>They fell to. The mistress drew her chair a little towards the +table; and provided company as well as meat; gossiped genially with +them like old acquaintances: but, this form gone through, the busy +dame was soon off and sent in her daughter, a beautiful young woman +of about twenty, who took the vacant seat. She was not quite +so broad and genial as the elder, but gentle and cheerful, and showed +a womanly tenderness for Gerard on learning the distance the poor +boy had come, and had to go. She stayed nearly half an hour, +and, when she left them, Gerard said, "This an inn? Why it is like +home."</p> + +<p>"Qui fit François il fit courtois," said Denys bursting with gratified +pride.</p> + +<p>"Courteous? nay, Christian; to welcome us like home guests and +old friends, us vagrants, here to-day and gone to-morrow. But indeed +who better merits pity and kindness than the worn traveller far +from his folk? Hola! here's another."</p> + +<p>The new comer was the chambermaid, a woman of about twenty-five, +with a cocked nose, a large laughing mouth, and a sparkling +black eye: and a bare arm very stout but not very shapely.</p> + +<p>The moment she came in, one of the travellers passed a somewhat<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +free jest on her, the next the whole company were roaring at his +expense, so swiftly had her practised tongue done his business. +Even as, in a passage of arms between a novice and a master of +fence, foils clash—novice pinked. On this another, and then another, +must break a lance with her: but Marion stuck her +great arms upon her haunches, and held the whole room in play. +This country girl possessed in perfection that rude and ready humour, +which looks mean and vulgar on paper but carries all before it +spoken: not wit's rapier; its bludgeon. Nature had done much for +her in this way, and daily practice in an inn the rest.</p> + +<p>Yet shall she not be photographed by me, but feebly indicated: for +it was just four hundred years ago, the raillery was coarse, she returned +every stroke in kind, and, though a virtuous woman, said +things without winking, which no decent man of our day would +say even among men.</p> + +<p>Gerard sat gaping with astonishment. This was to him almost a +new variety of "that interesting species," homo. He whispered +Denys, "Now I see why you Frenchmen say 'a woman's tongue +is her sword'": just then she levelled another assailant; and the +chivalrous Denys to console and support "the weaker vessel," the iron +kettle among the clay pots, administered his consigne, "Courage, +ma mie, le—" etc.</p> + +<p>She turned on him directly. "How can <i>he</i> be dead as long as +there is an archer left alive?" (General laughter at her ally's +expense.)</p> + +<p>"It is 'washing day' my masters," said she with sudden gravity.</p> + +<p>"Après? We travellers cannot strip and go bare while you wash +our clothes," objected a peevish old fellow by the fireside, who had +kept mumchance during the raillery, but crept out into the sunshine +of commonplaces.</p> + +<p>"I aimed not your way, ancient man," replied Marion superciliously. +"But, <i>since you ask me</i>" (here she scanned him slowly +from head to foot), "I trow you might take a turn in the tub, +clothes and all, and no harm done" (laughter). "But what I spoke +for, I thought—this young sire—might like his beard starched."</p> + +<p>Poor Gerard's turn had come: his chin crop was thin and +silky.</p> + +<p>The loudest of all the laughters this time was the traitor Denys, +whose beard was of a good length, and singularly stiff and bristly:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +so that Shakespeare, though he never saw him, hit him in the bull's +eye.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard."<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 15em;"><i>As You Like It.</i></span><br /> +</div> + +<p>Gerard bore the Amazonian satire mighty calmly. He had little +personal vanity. "Nay, 'chambrière'" said he with a smile, +"mine is all unworthy your pains: take you this fair growth in +hand!" and he pointed to Denys's vegetable.</p> + +<p>"Oh, time for that, when I starch the besoms."</p> + +<p>Whilst they were all shouting over this palpable hit, the mistress +returned, and, in no more time than it took her to cross the threshold, +did our Amazon turn to a seeming Madonna meek and mild.</p> + +<p>Mistresses are wonderful subjugators. Their like I think +breathes not on the globe. Housemaids, decide! It was a waste of +histrionic ability though; for the landlady had heard, and did not +at heart disapprove, the peals of laughter.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Marion, lass," said she, good-humouredly, "If you laid me +an egg every time you cackle, 'Les Trois Poissons' would never lack +an omelet."</p> + +<p>"Now, dame," said Gerard, "what is to pay?"</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Our supper."</p> + +<p>"Where is the hurry? cannot you be content to pay when you +go? lose the guest, find the money, is the rule of 'The Three +Fish.'"</p> + +<p>"But, dame, outside 'The Three Fish' it is thus written—'Ici—on +ne loge—'"</p> + +<p>"Bah! Let that flea stick on the wall! Look hither," and she +pointed to the smoky ceiling, which was covered with hieroglyphics. +These were accounts, vulgo scores; intelligible to this dame and her +daughter, who wrote them at need by simply mounting a low stool, +and scratching with a knife so as to show lines of ceiling through +the deposit of smoke. The dame explained that the writing on the +wall was put there to frighten moneyless folk from the inn altogether, +or to be acted on at odd times when a nonpaying face should come +in and insist on being served. "We can't refuse them plump, you +know. The law forbids us."</p> + +<p>"And how know you mine is not such a face?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Out, fie! it is the best face that has entered 'The Three Fish' +this autumn."</p> + +<p>"And mine, dame?" said Denys; "dost see no knavery here?"</p> + +<p>She eyed him calmly. "Not such a good one as the lad's: nor ever +will be. But it is the face of a true man. For all that," added +she drily, "an I were ten years younger, I'd as lieve not meet that +face on a dark night too far from home."</p> + +<p>Gerard stared. Denys laughed. "Why, dame, I would but sip +the night dew off the flower; and you needn't take ten years off, nor +ten days, to be worth risking a scratched face for."</p> + +<p>"There, our mistress," said Marion, who had just come in, "said +I not t'other day, you could make a fool of them still, an if you +were properly minded?"</p> + +<p>"I dare say ye did: it sounds like some daft wench's speech."</p> + +<p>"Dame," said Gerard, "this is wonderful."</p> + +<p>"What? Oh: no, no, that is no wonder at all. Why, I have +been here all my life: and reading faces is the first thing a girl picks +up in an inn."</p> + +<p><i>Marion.</i>] "And frying eggs the second; no, telling lies; frying +eggs is the third, though."</p> + +<p><i>The Mistress.</i>] "And holding her tongue the last, and modesty +the day after never at all."</p> + +<p><i>Marion.</i>] "Alack! Talk of <i>my</i> tongue. But I say no more. +She, under whose wing I live, now deals the blow. I'm sped—'tis +but a chambermaid gone. Catch what's left on't," and she staggered +and sank backwards on to the handsomest fellow in the room, +which happened to be Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Tic! tic!" cried he, peevishly, "there, don't be stupid! that is +too heavy a jest for me. See you not I am talking to the mistress?"</p> + +<p>Marion resumed her elasticity with a grimace; made two little +bounds into the middle of the floor and there turned a pirouette. +"There, mistress," said she, "I give in, 'tis you that reigns supreme +with the men; leastways with male children."</p> + +<p>"Young man," said the mistress, "this girl is not so stupid as her +deportment: in reading of faces, and frying of omelets, there we +are great. 'Twould be hard if we failed at these arts, since they are +about all we do know."</p> + +<p>"You do not quite take me, dame," said Gerard. "That honesty +in a face should shine forth to your experienced eye, that seems reasonable:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> +but how by looking on Denys here could you learn his one +little foible, his insanity, his miserable mulierosity?" Poor Gerard +got angrier the more he thought of it.</p> + +<p>"His mule—his what?" (crossing herself with superstitious awe +at the polysyllable).</p> + +<p>"Nay, 'tis but the word I was fain to invent for him."</p> + +<p>"Invent? What can a child like you make other words than grow +in Burgundy by nature? Take heed what ye do! why we are overrun +with them already, especially bad ones. Lord, these be times. +I look to hear of a new thistle invented next."</p> + +<p>"But, dame, I found language too poor to paint him. I was fain +to invent. You know Necessity is the mother of—"</p> + +<p>"Ay! ay, that is old enough, o' conscience."</p> + +<p>"Well then, dame, mulierose—that means wrapped up, body and +soul, in women. So prithee tell me; how did you ever detect the +noodle's mulierosity?"</p> + +<p>"Alas! good youth, you make a mountain of a molehill. We that +are women be notice-takers; and out of the tail of our eye see more +than most men can, glaring through a prospect glass. Whiles I +move to and fro doing this and that, my glance is still on my guests, +and I did notice that this soldier's eyes were never off the womenfolk: +my daughter, or Marion, or even an old woman like me, all was +gold to him: and there a sat glowering; oh you foolish, foolish, man! +Now <i>you</i> still turned to the speaker, her or him, and that is common +sense."</p> + +<p>Denys burst into a hoarse laugh. "You never were more out. +Why this silky smooth-faced companion is a very Turk—all but his +beard. He is what d'ye call 'em oser than ere an archer in the +duke's body guard. He is more wrapped up in one single Dutch +lass called Margaret than I am in the whole bundle of ye brown and +fair."</p> + +<p>"Man alive, that is just the contrary," said the hostess. "Yourn +is the bane, and hisn the cure. Cling you still to Margaret, my dear. +I hope she is an honest girl."</p> + +<p>"Dame, she is an angel."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, they are all that till better acquainted. I'd as lieve have +her no more than honest, and then she will serve to keep you out of +worse company. As for you, soldier, there is trouble in store for +you. Your eyes were never made for the good of your soul."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nor of his pouch either," said Marion striking in, "and his lips +they will sip the dew, as he calls it, off many a bramble bush."</p> + +<p>"Overmuch clack! Marion; overmuch clack."</p> + +<p>"Ods bodikins, mistress; ye didn't hire me to be one o' your three +fishes, did ye?" and Marion sulked thirty seconds.</p> + +<p>"Is that the way to speak to our mistress?" remonstrated the +landlord, who had slipped in.</p> + +<p>"Hold your whisht," said his wife sharply, "it is not your business +to check the girl, she is a good servant to you."</p> + +<p>"What is the cock never to crow, and the hens at it all day?"</p> + +<p>"You can crow as loud as you like, my man—out o' doors. But +the hen means to rule the roost."</p> + +<p>"I know a byword to that tune," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Do ye now? out wi't then."</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Femme veut en toute saison,<br /> +Estre dame en sa maison.'"<br /> +</div> + +<p>"I never heard it afore: but 'tis as sooth as gospel. Ay they that +set these bywords a rolling had eyes and tongues, and tongues and +eyes. Before all the world give me an old saw."</p> + +<p>"And me a young husband," said Marion. "Now there was a +chance for you all, and nobody spoke. Oh! it is too late now. I've +changed my mind."</p> + +<p>"All the better for some poor fellow," suggested Denys.</p> + +<p>And now the arrival of the young mistress, or, as she was called, +the little mistress, was the signal for them all to draw round the fire, +like one happy family, travellers, host, hostess, and even servants in +the outer ring, and tell stories till bedtime. And Gerard in his turn +told a tremendous one out of his repertory, a MS. collection of "acts +of the saints," and made them all shudder deliciously; but soon after +began to nod; exhausted by the effort I should say. The young mistress +saw, and gave Marion a look. She instantly lighted a rush, +and laying her hand on Gerard's shoulder invited him to follow her. +She showed him a room where were two nice white beds, and bade +him choose. "Either is paradise," said he. "I'll take this one. +Do you know, I have not lain in a naked bed once since I left my +home in Holland."</p> + +<p>"Alack! poor soul!" said she; "well then the sooner my flax and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +your down (he! he!) come together, the better; so—allons!" and she +held out her cheek as business-like as if it had been her hand for a +fee.</p> + +<p>"Allons? what does that mean?"</p> + +<p>"It means 'good-night.' Ahem! What don't they salute the +chambermaid in your part?"</p> + +<p>"Not all in a moment."</p> + +<p>"What, do they make a business on't?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, perverter of words, I mean we make not so free with +strange women."</p> + +<p>"They must be strange women if they do not think you strange +fools then. Here is a coil. Why all the old greasy greybeards, +that lie at our inn, do kiss us chambermaids; faugh! and what have +we poor wretches to set on t'other side the compt, but now and then +a nice young—? Alack! time flies, chambermaids can't be spared +long in the nursery; so how is't to be?"</p> + +<p>"An't please you arrange with my comrade for both. He is +mulierose; I am not."</p> + +<p>"Nay 'tis the curb he will want, not the spur. Well! well! you +shall to bed without paying the usual toll; and oh but 'tis sweet to +fall in with a young man, who can withstand these ancient ill customs, +and gainsay brazen hussies. Shalt have thy reward."</p> + +<p>"Thank you! But what are you doing with my bed?"</p> + +<p>"Me? oh only taking off these sheets, and going to put on the pair +the drunken miller slept in last night."</p> + +<p>"Oh no! no! You cruel, black-hearted thing! There! there!"</p> + +<p>"A la bonne heure! What will not perseverance effect? But +note now the frowardness of a mad wench! I cared not for't a +button. I am dead sick of that sport this five years. But you denied +me: so then forthwith I behoved to have it; belike had gone +through fire and water for't. Alas, young sir, we women are kittle +cattle; poor perverse toads: excuse us: and keep us in our place, +savoir, at arm's length! and so good-night!"</p> + +<p>At the door she turned and said with a complete change of tone +and manner: "The Virgin guard thy head, and the Holy Evangelists +watch the bed where lies a poor young wanderer far from +home! Amen!"</p> + +<p>And the next moment he heard her run tearing down the stairs,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +and soon a peal of laughter from the salle betrayed her whereabouts.</p> + +<p>"Now that is a character," said Gerard profoundly; and yawned +over the discovery.</p> + +<p>In a very few minutes he was in a dry bath of cold, clean, linen, +inexpressibly refreshing to him after so long disuse: then came a +delicious glow: and then—Sevenbergen.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>In the morning Gerard awoke infinitely refreshed, and was for +rising, but found himself a close prisoner. His linen had vanished. +Now this was paralysis; for the night-gown is a recent institution. +In Gerard's century, and indeed long after, men did not play fast +and loose with clean sheets (when they could get them), but crept +into them clothed with—their innocence, like Adam: out of bed they +seem to have taken most after his eldest son.</p> + +<p>Gerard bewailed his captivity to Denys; but that instant the door +opened, and in sailed Marion with their linen, newly washed and +ironed, on her two arms, and set it down on the table.</p> + +<p>"Oh you good girl," cried Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Alack, have you found me out at last?"</p> + +<p>"Yes indeed. Is this another <i>custom?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Nay, not to take them unbidden: but at night we aye question +travellers, are they for linen washed. So I came in to you: but you +were both sound. Then said I to the little mistress, 'La! where is +the sense of waking wearied men, t'ask them is Charles the Great +dead, and would they liever carry foul linen or clean, especially this +one with a skin like cream.' 'And so he has, I declare,' said the +young mistress."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"That was me," remarked Denys with the air of a commentator.</p> + +<p>"Guess once more, and you'll hit the mark."</p> + +<p>"Notice him not, Marion; he is an impudent fellow; and I am +sure we cannot be grateful enough for your goodness, and I am sorry +I ever refused you—anything you fancied you should like."</p> + +<p>"Oh, are ye there," said l'espiègle. "I take that to mean you +would fain brush the morning dew off, as your bashful companion +calls it; well then, excuse me, 'tis <i>customary</i>, but not prudent. I +decline. Quits with you, lad."</p> + +<p>"Stop! stop!" cried Denys as she was making off victorious, "I am<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +curious to know how many of ye were here last night a-feasting your +eyes on us twain.'"</p> + +<p>"'Twas so satisfactory a feast as we weren't half a minute over't. +Who? why the big mistress, the little mistress, Janet and me, and +the whole posse comitatus, on tiptoe. We mostly make our rounds, +the last thing not to get burned down; and in prodigious numbers. +Somehow that maketh us bolder, especially where archers lie scattered +about."</p> + +<p>"Why did not you tell me? I'd have lain awake."</p> + +<p>"Beau sire, the saying goes that the good and the ill are all one +while their lids are closed. So we said 'Here is one, who will serve +God best asleep. Break not his rest!'"</p> + +<p>"She is funny," said Gerard dictatorially.</p> + +<p>"I must be either that or knavish."</p> + +<p>"How so?"</p> + +<p>"Because 'The Three Fish' pay me to be funny. You will eat +before you part? Good! then I'll go see the meat be fit for such +worshipful teeth."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Denys!"</p> + +<p>"What is your will?"</p> + +<p>"I wish that was a great boy, and going along with us, to keep +us cheery."</p> + +<p>"So do not I. But I wish it was going along with us as it is."</p> + +<p>"Now Heaven forfend! A fine fool you would make of yourself."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>They broke their fast, settled their score, and said farewell. +Then it was they found Marion had not exaggerated the "custom of +the country." The three principal women took and kissed them +right heartily, and they kissed the three principal women. The +landlord took and kissed them, and they kissed the landlord; and the +cry was "Come back, the sooner the better!"</p> + +<p>"Never pass 'The Three Fish;' should your purses be void, bring +yourselves: 'le sieur crédit' is not dead for you."</p> + +<p>And they took the road again.</p> + +<p>They came to a little town, and Denys went to buy shoes. The +shopkeeper was in the doorway, but wide awake. He received +Denys with a bow down to the ground. The customer was soon fitted,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +and followed to the street, and dismissed with graceful salutes from +the doorstep.</p> + +<p>The friends agreed it was Elysium to deal with such a shoemaker +as this. "Not but what my German shoes have lasted well enough," +said Gerard the just.</p> + +<p>Outside the town was a pebbled walk.</p> + +<p>"This is to keep the burghers' feet dry, a-walking o' Sundays with +their wives and daughters," said Denys.</p> + +<p>Those simple words of Denys, one stroke of a careless tongue, +painted "home" in Gerard's heart. "Oh! how sweet," said he. +"Mercy! what is this? A gibbet; and ugh, two skeletons thereon! +Oh, Denys, what a sorry sight to woo by!"</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Denys, "a comfortable sight; for every rogue i' the +air there is one the less a-foot."</p> + +<p>A little farther on they came to two pillars, and between these was +a huge wheel closely studded with iron prongs; and entangled in +these were bones and fragments of cloth miserably dispersed over +the wheel.</p> + +<p>Gerard hid his face in his hands. "Oh to think those patches and +bones are all that is left of a man! Of one who was what we are +now."</p> + +<p>"Excusez! a thing that went on two legs and stole; are we no more +than that?"</p> + +<p>"How know ye he stole? Have true men never suffered death and +torture too?"</p> + +<p>"None of my kith ever found the way to the gibbet, I know."</p> + +<p>"The better their luck. Prithee how died the saints?"</p> + +<p>"Hard. But not in Burgundy."</p> + +<p>"Ye massacred them wholesale at Lyons, and that is on Burgundy's +threshold. To you the gibbet proves the crime; because you +read not story. Alas! had you stood on Calvary that bloody +day we sigh for to this hour, I tremble to think you had perhaps +shouted for joy at the gibbet builded there; for the cross was but +the Roman gallows, Father Martin says."</p> + +<p>"The blaspheming old hound!"</p> + +<p>"Oh fie! fie! a holy and a book-learned man. Ay, Denys, y'had +read them, that suffered there, by the bare light of the gibbet. +'Drive in the nails!' y'had cried: 'drive in the spear! Here be +three malefactors. Three "roués."' Yet of those little three one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +was the first Christian saint, and another was the Saviour of the world +which gibbeted him."</p> + +<p>Denys assured him on his honour they managed things better in +Burgundy. He added too after profound reflection, that the horrors +Gerard had alluded to had more than once made him curse and swear +with rage when told by the good curé in his native village at Easter-tide; +"but they chanced in an outlandish nation; and near a thousand +years agone. Mort de ma vie, let us hope it is not true: or +at least sore exaggerated. Do but see how all tales gather as they +roll!"</p> + +<p>Then he reflected again, and all in a moment turned red with ire. +"Do ye not blush to play with your book-craft on your unlettered +friend, and throw dust in his eyes, evening the saints with these +reptiles?"</p> + +<p>Then suddenly he recovered his good humour. "Since your heart +beats for vermin, feel for the carrion crows! they be as good vermin +as these: would ye send them to bed supperless, poor pretty poppets? +Why, these be their larder: the pangs of hunger would gnaw +them dead, but for cold cutpurse hung up here and there."</p> + +<p>Gerard, who had for some time maintained a dead silence, informed +him the subject was closed between them and for ever. +"There are things," said he, "in which our hearts seem wide as the +poles asunder, and eke our heads. But I love thee dearly all the +same," he added with infinite grace and tenderness.</p> + +<p>Towards afternoon they heard a faint wailing noise on ahead: it +grew distincter as they proceeded. Being fast walkers they soon +came up with its cause: a score of pikemen, accompanied by several +constables, were marching along, and in advance of them was a herd +of animals they were driving. These creatures, in number rather more +than a hundred, were of various ages, only very few were downright +old: the males were downcast and silent. It was the females from +whom all the outcry came. In other words the animals thus driven +along at the law's point were men and women.</p> + +<p>"Good Heaven!" cried Gerard. "What a band of them! But +stay, surely all those children cannot be thieves: why there are +some in arms. What on earth is this, Denys?"</p> + +<p>Denys advised him to ask that "bourgeois" with the badge. "This +is Burgundy: here a civil question ever draws a civil reply."</p> + +<p>Gerard went up to the officer and removing his cap, a civility<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +which was immediately returned, said, "For our Lady's sake, sir, +what do ye with these poor folk?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, what is that to you, my lad?" replied the functionary suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Master, I'm a stranger, and athirst for knowledge."</p> + +<p>"That is another matter. What are we doing? ahem. Why we—Dost +hear, Jacques? Here is a stranger seeks to know what we +are doing," and the two machines were tickled that there should +be a man who did not know something they happened to know. In +all ages this has tickled. However the chuckle was brief, and moderated +by their native courtesy, and the official turned to Gerard +again. "What we are doing? hum!" and now he hesitated not from +any doubt as to what he was doing, but because he was hunting for +a single word that should convey the matter.</p> + +<p>"Ce que nous faisons, mon gars?—Mais—dam—NOUS TRANSVASONS."</p> + +<p>"You decant? that should mean you pour from one vessel to +another."</p> + +<p>"Precisely." He explained that last year the town of Charmes +had been sore thinned by a pestilence, whole houses emptied and +trades short of hands. Much ado to get in the rye; and the flax half +spoiled. So the bailiff and aldermen had written to the duke's secretary; +and the duke he sent far and wide to know what town was too +full. "That are we," had the baillie of Toul writ back. "Then +send four or five score of your townsfolk," was the order. "Was +not this to decant the full town into the empty, and is not the good +duke the father of his people, and will not let the duchy be weakened, +nor its fair towns laid waste, by sword nor pestilence; but meets the +one with pike, and arbalest (touching his cap to the sergeant and +Denys alternately), and t'other with policy? LONG LIVE THE +DUKE!"</p> + +<p>The pikemen of course were not to be outdone in loyalty: so they +shouted with stentorian lungs "LONG LIVE THE DUKE!" +Then the decanted ones, partly because loyalty was a nonreasoning +sentiment in those days, partly perhaps because they feared some +further ill consequence should they alone be mute, raised a feeble +tremulous shout "Long live the Duke!"</p> + +<p>But, at this, insulted nature rebelled. Perhaps indeed the sham +sentiment drew out the real, for, on the very heels of that loyal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +noise, a loud and piercing wail burst from every woman's bosom +and a deep groan from every man's; oh! the air filled in a moment +with womanly and manly anguish. Judge what it must have been +when the rude pikemen halted unbidden, all confused; as if a wall +of sorrow had started up before them.</p> + +<p>"En avant," roared the sergeant, and they marched again, but +muttering and cursing.</p> + +<p>"Ah the ugly sound," said the civilian, wincing. "Les malheureux!" +cried he ruefully: for where is the single man can hear +the sudden agony of a multitude and not be moved? "Les ingrats! +They are going whence they were de trop to where they will be +welcome: from starvation to plenty—and they object. They even +make dismal noises. One would think we were thrusting them forth +from Burgundy."</p> + +<p>"Come away," whispered Gerard, trembling; "come away," and +the friends strode forward.</p> + +<p>When they passed the head of the column, and saw the men walk +with their eyes bent in bitter gloom upon the ground, and the women, +some carrying, some leading, little children, and weeping as they +went, and the poor bairns, some frolicking, some weeping because +"their mammies" wept, Gerard tried hard to say a word of comfort, +but choked and could utter nothing to the mourners; but gasped: +"Come on, Denys. I cannot mock such sorrow with little words of +comfort." And now, artist-like, all his aim was to get swiftly out +of the grief he could not soothe. He almost ran not to hear these +sighs and sobs.</p> + +<p>"Why, mate," said Denys, "art the colour of a lemon. Man alive, +take not other folks' troubles to heart! not one of those whining milksops +there but would see thee, a stranger, hanged without winking."</p> + +<p>Gerard scarce listened to him.</p> + +<p>"Decant them?" he groaned: "ay, if blood were no thicker than +wine. Princes, ye are wolves. Poor things! Poor things! Ah, +Denys! Denys! with looking on their grief mine own comes home +to me. Well-a-day. Ah, well-a-day!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, now you talk reason. That you, poor lad, should be driven +all the way from Holland to Rome, is pitiful indeed. But these +snivelling curs, where is their hurt? There is six score of 'em to +keep one another company: besides they are not going out of Burgundy."</p> + +<p>"Better for them if they had never been in it."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Méchant, va! they are but going from one village to another, +a mule's journey! whilst thou—there, no more. Courage, camarade, +le diable est mort."</p> + +<p>Gerard shook his head very doubtfully, but kept silence for about +a mile, and then he said thoughtfully, "Ay, Denys, but then I am +sustained by book-learning. These are simple folk that likely +thought their village was the world: now what is this? more weeping. +Oh! 'tis a sweet world. Humph? A little girl that hath broke her +pipkin. Now may I hang on one of your gibbets but I'll dry somebody's +tears:" and he pounced savagely upon this little martyr, like +a kite on a chick, but with more generous intentions. It was a pretty +little lass of about twelve: the tears were raining down her two +peaches, and her palms lifted to heaven in that utter, though temporary, +desolation, which attends calamity at twelve; and at her +feet the fatal cause, a broken pot, worth, say the fifth of a modern +farthing.</p> + +<p>"What, hast broken thy pot, little one?" said Gerard, acting intensest +sympathy.</p> + +<p>"Hélas! bel gars; as you behold;" and the hands came down from +the sky and both pointed at the fragments. A statuette of adversity.</p> + +<p>"And you weep so for that?"</p> + +<p>"Needs I must, bel gars. My mammy will massacre me. Do +they not already" (with a fresh burst of woe) "c-c-call me J-J-Jean-net-on +C-c-casse tout? It wanted but this; that I should break my +poor pot. Hélas! fallait-il donc, mère de Dieu?"</p> + +<p>"Courage, little love," said Gerard: "'tis not thy heart lies broken; +money will soon mend pots. See now, here is a piece of silver, and +there, scarce a stone's throw off, is a potter; take the bit of silver +to him, and buy another pot, and the copper the potter will give thee +keep that to play with thy comrades."</p> + +<p>The little mind took in all this, and smiles began to struggle with +the tears: but spasms are like waves, they cannot go down the very +moment the wind of trouble is lulled. So Denys thought well to +bring up his reserve of consolation. "Courage, ma mie, le diable +est mort!" cried that inventive warrior gaily. Gerard shrugged his +shoulders at such a way of cheering a little girl.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"What a fine thing<br /> +Is a lute with one string,"<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>said he.</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span></p> + +<p>The little girl's face broke into warm sunshine.</p> + +<p>"Oh, the good news! oh, the good news!" she sang out with such +heartfelt joy, it went off into a honeyed whine; even as our gay old +tunes have a pathos underneath. "So then," said she, "they will no +longer be able to threaten us little girls with him, MAKING OUR +LIVES A BURDEN!" And she bounded off "to tell Nanette," +she said.</p> + +<p>There is a theory that everything has its counterpart; if true, +Denys it would seem had found the mind his consigne fitted.</p> + +<p>While he was roaring with laughter at its unexpected success and +Gerard's amazement, a little hand pulled his jerkin and a little face +peeped round his waist. Curiosity was now the dominant passion +in that small but vivid countenance.</p> + +<p>"Est-ce toi qui l'a tué, beau soldat?"</p> + +<p>"Oui, ma mie," said Denys, as gruffly as ever he could, rightly +deeming this would smack of supernatural puissance to owners of +bell-like trebles. "C'est moi. Çà vaut une petite embrassade—pas?"</p> + +<p>"Je crois ben. Aie! aie!"</p> + +<p>"Qu'as-tu?"</p> + +<p>"Çà pique! Çà pique!"</p> + +<p>"Quel dommage! je vais la couper."</p> + +<p>"Nenni, ce n'est rien; et pisque t'as tué ce méchant. T'es fièrement +beau, tout d' même, toi; t'es ben miex que ma grande sœur."</p> + +<p>"Will you not kiss me too, ma mie?" said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Je ne demande par miex. Tiens, tiens, tiens! c'est doulce celle-ci. +Ah, que j'aimons les hommes! Des fames, çà ne m'aurait jamais +donné l'arjan blanc, plutôt çà m'aurait ri au nez. C'est si peu de +chose, les fames. Serviteur, beaulx sires! Bon voiage; et n'oubliez +point la Jeanneton!"</p> + +<p>"Adieu, petit cœur," said Gerard, and on they marched: but presently +looking back they saw the contemner of women in the middle +of the road, making them a reverence, and blowing them kisses with +little May morning face.</p> + +<p>"Come on," cried Gerard lustily. "I shall win to Rome yet. +Holy St. Bavon, what a sunbeam of innocence hath shot across our +bloodthirsty road! Forget thee, little Jeanneton? not likely, amidst +all this slobbering, and gibbeting, and decanting. Come on, thou +laggard! forward!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Dost call this marching?" remonstrated Denys: "why we shall +walk o'er Christmas-day and never see it."</p> + +<p>At the next town they came to, suddenly an arbalestrier ran out +of a tavern after them, and in a moment his beard and Denys's were +like two brushes stuck together. It was a comrade. He insisted +on their coming into the tavern with him, and breaking a bottle of +wine. In course of conversation, he told Denys there was an insurrection +in the duke's Flemish provinces, and soldiers were ordered +thither from all parts of Burgundy. "Indeed I marvelled to see +thy face turned this way."</p> + +<p>"I go to embrace my folk that I have not seen these three years. +Ye can quell a bit of a rising without me I trow."</p> + +<p>Suddenly Denys gave a start. "Dost hear, Gerard? this comrade +is bound for Holland."</p> + +<p>"What then? ah, a letter! a letter to Margaret! but will he be so +good, so kind?"</p> + +<p>The soldier with a torrent of blasphemy informed him he would +not only take it, but go a league or two out of his way to do it.</p> + +<p>In an instant out came inkhorn and paper from Gerard's wallet; +and he wrote a long letter to Margaret, and told her briefly what I +fear I have spun too tediously; dwelt most on the bear, and the +plunge in the Rhine, and the character of Denys, whom he painted to +the life. And with many endearing expressions bade her be of good +cheer; some trouble and peril there had been, but all that was over +now, and his only grief left was that he could not hope to have a +word from her hand till he should reach Rome. He ended with +comforting her again as hard as he could. And so absorbed was he +in his love and his work, that he did not see all the people in the room +were standing peeping, to watch the nimble and true finger execute +such rare penmanship.</p> + +<p>Denys, proud of his friend's skill, let him alone, till presently the +writer's face worked, and soon the scalding tears began to run down +his young cheeks, one after another, on the paper where he was then +writing comfort, comfort. Then Denys rudely repulsed the curious, +and asked his comrade with a faltering voice whether he had the +heart to let so sweet a love letter miscarry? The other swore by the +face of St. Luke he would lose the forefinger of his right hand sooner.</p> + +<p>Seeing him so ready, Gerard charged him also with a short, cold +letter to his parents; and in it he drew hastily with his pen two hands<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +grasping each other, to signify farewell. By-the-by, one drop of +bitterness found its way into his letter to Margaret. "I write to +thee alone, and to those who love thee. If my flesh and blood care +to hear news of me, they must be kind to thee and then thou mayst +read my letter to them. But not else, and even then let this not +out of thy hand or thou lovest me not. I know what I ask of thee, +and why I ask it. Thou knowest not. I am older now by many +years than thou art, and I was a month agone. Therefore obey me +in this one thing, dear heart, or thou wilt make me a worse wife +than I hope to make thee a husband, God willing."</p> + +<p>On second thoughts I believe there was something more than bitterness +in this. For his mind, young but intense, had been bent +many hours in every day upon Sevenbergen and Tergou, and speculated +on every change of feeling and circumstance that his exile +might bring about.</p> + +<p>Gerard now offered money to the soldier. He hesitated, but declined +it. "No, no! art comrade of my comrade; and may"——(etc.)——"but +thy love for the wench touches me. I'll break another +bottle at thy charge an thou wilt, and so cry quits."</p> + +<p>"Well said, comrade," cried Denys. "Hadst taken money, I had +invited thee to walk in the court-yard and cross swords with me."</p> + +<p>"Whereupon I had cut thy comb for thee," retorted the other.</p> + +<p>"Hadst done thy endeavour, drôle, I doubt not."</p> + +<p>They drank the new bottle, shook hands, adhered to custom, and +parted on opposite routes.</p> + +<p>This delay however somewhat put out Denys's calculations, and +evening surprised them ere they reached a little town he was making +for, where was a famous hotel. However, they fell in with a roadside +auberge, and Denys, seeing a buxom girl at the door, said, "This +seems a decent inn," and led the way into the kitchen. They ordered +supper, to which no objection was raised, only the landlord requested +them to pay for it beforehand. It was not an uncommon proposal in +any part of the world. Still it was not universal, and Denys was +nettled, and dashed his hand somewhat ostentatiously into his purse +and pulled out a gold angel. "Count me the change, and speedily," +said he. "You tavern-keepers are more likely to rob me than I you."</p> + +<p>While the supper was preparing, Denys disappeared, and was +eventually found by Gerard in the yard, helping Manon, his plump +but not bright decoy duck, to draw water, and pouring extravagant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +compliments into her dullish ear. Gerard grunted and returned to +table, but Denys did not come in for a good quarter of an hour.</p> + +<p>"Up-hill work at the end of a march," said he shrugging his +shoulders.</p> + +<p>"What matters that to you?" said Gerard, drily. "The mad dog +bites all the world."</p> + +<p>"Exaggerator. You know I bite but the fairer half. Well, here +comes supper; that is better worth biting."</p> + +<p>During supper the girl kept constantly coming in and out, and +looking point-blank at them, especially at Denys; and at last in leaning +over him to remove a dish, dropped a word in his ear; and he +replied with a nod.</p> + +<p>As soon as supper was cleared away, Denys rose and strolled to the +door, telling Gerard the sullen fair had relented, and given him a +little rendezvous in the stable yard.</p> + +<p>Gerard suggested that the cow-house would have been a more appropriate +locality. "I shall go to bed, then," said he, a little +crossly. "Where is the landlord? out at this time of night? no matter. +I know our room. Shall you be long, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Not I. I grudge leaving the fire and thee. But what can I do? +There are two sorts of invitations a Burgundian never declines."</p> + +<p>Denys found a figure seated by the well. It was Manon; but instead +of receiving him as he thought he had a right to expect, coming +by invitation, all she did was to sob. He asked her what ailed her? +She sobbed. Could he do anything for her? She sobbed.</p> + +<p>The good-natured Denys, driven to his wits' end, which was no +great distance, proffered the custom of the country by way of consolation. +She repulsed him roughly, "Is it a time for fooling?" +said she, and sobbed.</p> + +<p>"You seem to think so," said Denys, waxing wroth. But the next +moment he added, tenderly, "and I who could never bear to see +beauty in distress."</p> + +<p>"It is not for myself."</p> + +<p>"Who then? your sweetheart?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, que nenni. My sweetheart is not on earth now: and to think +I have not an écu to buy masses for his soul;" and in this shallow +nature the grief seemed now to be all turned in another direction.</p> + +<p>"Come, come," said Denys, "shalt have money to buy masses for +thy dead lad; I swear it. Meantime tell me why you weep."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> + +<p>"For you."</p> + +<p>"For me? Art mad?"</p> + +<p>"No. I am not mad. 'Tis you that were mad to open your purse +before him."</p> + +<p>The mystery seemed to thicken, and Denys wearied of stirring +up the mud by questions, held his peace to see if it would not clear +of itself. Then the girl finding herself no longer questioned seemed +to go through some internal combat. At last she said, doggedly and +aloud, "I will. The Virgin give me courage! What matters it if +they kill me, since he is dead? Soldier, the landlord is out."</p> + +<p>"Oh, is he?"</p> + +<p>"What, do landlords leave their taverns at this time of night? +also see what a tempest! We are sheltered here, but t'other side it +blows a hurricane."</p> + +<p>Denys said nothing.</p> + +<p>"He is gone to fetch the band."</p> + +<p>"The band! what band?"</p> + +<p>"Those who will cut your throat and take your gold. Wretched +man; to go and shake gold in an innkeeper's face!"</p> + +<p>The blow came so unexpectedly it staggered even Denys, accustomed +as he was to sudden perils. He muttered a single word, but +in it a volume.</p> + +<p>"Gerard!"</p> + +<p>"Gerard! What is that? Oh, 'tis thy comrade's name, poor +lad. Get him out quick ere they come; and fly to the next town."</p> + +<p>"And thou?"</p> + +<p>"They will kill me."</p> + +<p>"That shall they not. Fly with us."</p> + +<p>"'Twill avail me nought; one of the band will be sent to kill me. +They are sworn to slay all who betray them."</p> + +<p>"I'll take thee to my native place full thirty leagues from hence, +and put thee under my own mother's wing, ere they shall hurt a +hair o' thy head. But first Gerard. Stay thou here whilst I fetch +him!"</p> + +<p>As he was darting off, the girl seized him convulsively, and with +all the iron strength excitement lends to women. "Stay me not! for +pity's sake," he cried; "'tis life or death."</p> + +<p>"Sh!—sh!" whispered the girl, shutting his mouth hard with her +hand, and putting her pale lips close to him, and her eyes, that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +seemed to turn backwards, straining towards some indistinct sound.</p> + +<p>He listened.</p> + +<p>He heard footsteps, many footsteps: and no voices. She whispered +in his ear "They are come."</p> + +<p>And trembled like a leaf.</p> + +<p>Denys felt it was so. Travellers in that number would never have +come in dead silence.</p> + +<p>The feet were now at the very door.</p> + +<p>"How many?" said he in a hollow whisper.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" and she put her mouth to his very ear.</p> + +<p>And who, that had seen this man and woman in that attitude, +would have guessed what freezing hearts were theirs, and what terrible +whispers passed between them?</p> + +<p>"Seven."</p> + +<p>"How armed?"</p> + +<p>"Sword and dagger: and the giant with his axe. They call him +the Abbot."</p> + +<p>"And my comrade?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing can save him. Better lose one life than two. Fly!"</p> + +<p>Denys's blood froze at this cynical advice. "Poor creature, you +know not a soldier's heart."</p> + +<p>He put his head in his hands a moment, and a hundred thoughts +of dangers baffled whirled through his brain.</p> + +<p>"Listen, girl! There is one chance for our lives, if thou wilt but +be true to us. Run to the town; to the nearest tavern, and tell the +first soldier there, that a soldier here is sore beset, but armed, and his +life to be saved if they will but run. Then to the bailiff. But first +to the soldiers. Nay, not a word, but buss me, good lass, and fly! +men's lives hang on thy heels."</p> + +<p>She kilted up her gown to run. He came round to the road with +her; saw her cross the road cringing with fear, then glide away, +then turn into an erect shadow, then melt away in the storm.</p> + +<p>And now he must get to Gerard. But how? He had to run the +gauntlet of the whole band. He asked himself, what was the +worst thing they could do? for he had learned in war that an +enemy does, not what you hope he will do, but what you hope he will +not do. "Attack me as I enter the kitchen! Then I must not +give them time."</p> + +<p>Just as he drew near to the latch, a terrible thought crossed him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> +"Suppose they had already dealt with Gerard. Why, then," thought +he, "nought is left but to kill, and be killed;" and he strung his bow, +and walked rapidly into the kitchen. There were seven hideous faces +seated round the fire, and the landlord pouring them out neat brandy, +blood's forerunner in every age.</p> + +<p>"What? company!" cried Denys, gaily: "one minute, my lads, and +I'll be with you;" and he snatched up a lighted candle off the table, +opened the door that led to the staircase, and went up it hallooing. +"What, Gerard! whither hast thou skulked to?" There was no answer. +He hallooed louder, "Gerard, where art thou?"</p> + +<p>After a moment in which Denys lived an hour of agony, a peevish +half-inarticulate noise issued from the room at the head of the little +stairs. Denys burst in, and there was Gerard asleep.</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" he said, in a choking voice, then began to sing +loud, untuneful ditties. Gerard put his fingers into his ears; but +presently he saw in Denys's face a horror that contrasted strangely +with this sudden merriment.</p> + +<p>"What ails thee?" said he, sitting up and staring.</p> + +<p>"Hush!" said Denys, and his hand spoke even more plainly than +his lips. "Listen to me."</p> + +<p>Denys then pointing significantly to the door, to show Gerard sharp +ears were listening hard by, continued his song aloud, but under +cover of it threw in short muttered syllables.</p> + +<p>"(Our lives are in peril.)</p> + +<p>"(Thieves.)</p> + +<p>"(Thy doublet.)</p> + +<p>"(Thy sword.)</p> + +<p>"Aid.</p> + +<p>"Coming.</p> + +<p>"Put off time." Then aloud.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, wilt have t'other bottle? say Nay."</p> + +<p>"No, not I."</p> + +<p>"But I tell thee, there are half a dozen jolly fellows. Tired."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but I am too wearied," said Gerard. "Go thou."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay!" Then he went to the door and called out cheerfully, +"Landlord, the young milksop will not rise. Give those honest fellows +t'other bottle. I will pay for't in the morning."</p> + +<p>He heard a brutal and fierce chuckle.</p> + +<p>Having thus by observation made sure the kitchen door was shut,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +and the miscreants were not actually listening, he examined the +chamber door closely: then quietly shut it, but did not bolt it: and +went and inspected the window.</p> + +<p>It was too small to get out of, and yet a thick bar of iron had +been let in the stone to make it smaller; and, just as he made this +chilling discovery, the outer door of the house was bolted with a +loud clang.</p> + +<p>Denys groaned, "The beasts are in the shambles."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>But would the thieves attack them while they were awake? Probably +not.</p> + +<p>Not to throw away this their best chance the poor souls now made +a series of desperate efforts to converse, as if discussing ordinary matters; +and by this means Gerard learned all that had passed, and that +the girl was gone for aid.</p> + +<p>"Pray Heaven, she may not lose heart by the way," said Denys, +sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>And Denys begged Gerard's forgiveness for bringing him out of +his way for this.</p> + +<p>Gerard forgave him.</p> + +<p>"I would fear them less, Gerard, but for one they call the Abbot. +I picked him out at once. Taller than you, bigger than us both put +together. Fights with an axe. Gerard, a man to lead a herd of +deer to battle. I shall kill that man to-night, or he will kill me. +I think somehow 'tis he will kill me."</p> + +<p>"Saints forbid! Shoot him at the door! What avails his +strength against your weapon?"</p> + +<p>"I shall pick him out: but, if it comes to hand fighting, run +swiftly under his guard, or you are a dead man. I tell thee neither +of us may stand a blow of that axe: thou never sawest such a body +of a man."</p> + +<p>Gerard was for bolting the door; but Denys with a sigh showed +him that half the door-post turned outward on a hinge, and the great +bolt was little more than a blind. "I have forborne to bolt it," said +he, "that they may think us the less suspicious."</p> + +<p>Near an hour rolled away thus. It seemed an age. Yet it was +but a little hour: and the town was a league distant. And some of +the voices in the kitchen became angry and impatient.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They will not wait much longer," said Denys, "and we have no +chance at all unless we surprise them."</p> + +<p>"I will do whate'er you bid," said Gerard meekly.</p> + +<p>There was a cupboard on the same side as the door; but between +it and the window. It reached nearly to the ground, but not quite. +Denys opened the cupboard door and placed Gerard on a chair behind +it. "If they run for the bed, strike at the napes of their necks! a +sword cut there always kills or disables." He then arranged the +bolsters and their shoes in the bed so as to deceive a person peeping +from a distance, and drew the short curtains at the head.</p> + +<p>Meantime Gerard was on his knees. Denys looked round and +saw him.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Denys, "above all pray them to forgive me for bringing +you into this guetapens!"</p> + +<p>And now they grasped hands and looked in one another's eyes; oh, +such a look! Denys's hand was cold, and Gerard's warm.</p> + +<p>They took their posts.</p> + +<p>Denys blew out the candle.</p> + +<p>"We must keep silence now."</p> + +<p>But in the terrible tension of their nerves and very souls they +found they could hear a whisper fainter than any man could catch +at all outside that door. They could hear each other's heart thump +at times.</p> + +<p>"Good news!" breathed Denys, listening at the door.</p> + +<p>"They are casting lots."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Pray that it may be the Abbot."</p> + +<p>"Yes. Why?"</p> + +<p>"If he comes alone I can make sure of him."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Denys!"</p> + +<p>"Ay!"</p> + +<p>"I fear I shall go mad, if they do not come soon."</p> + +<p>"Shall I feign sleep? Shall I snore?"</p> + +<p>"Will that—?"</p> + +<p>"Perhaps."</p> + +<p>"Do then, and God have mercy on us!"</p> + +<p>Denys snored at intervals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span></p> + +<p>There was a scuffling of feet heard in the kitchen, and then all was +still.</p> + +<p>Denys snored again. Then took up his position behind the door.</p> + +<p>But he, or they, who had drawn the lot, seemed determined to run +no foolish risks. Nothing was attempted in a hurry.</p> + +<p>When they were almost starved with cold, and waiting for the +attack, the door on the stairs opened softly and closed again. Nothing +more.</p> + +<p>There was another harrowing silence.</p> + +<p>Then a single light footstep on the stair; and nothing more.</p> + +<p>Then a light crept under the door; and nothing more.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Presently there was a gentle scratching, not half so loud as a +mouse's, and the false door-post opened by degrees and left a perpendicular +space through which the light streamed in. The door, had +it been bolted, would now have hung by the bare tip of the bolt, +which went into the real door-post, but, as it was, it swung gently +open of itself. It opened inwards, so Denys did not raise his crossbow +from the ground, but merely grasped his dagger.</p> + +<p>The candle was held up, and shaded from behind by a man's hand.</p> + +<p>He was inspecting the beds from the threshold, satisfied that his +victims were both in bed.</p> + +<p>The man glided into the apartment. But at the first step something +in the position of the cupboard and chair made him uneasy. +He ventured no further, but put the candle on the floor and stooped +to peer under the chair; but, as he stooped, an iron hand grasped +his shoulder, and a dagger was driven so fiercely through his neck +that the point came out at his gullet. There was a terrible hiccough, +but no cry; and half a dozen silent strokes followed in swift +succession, each a death-blow, and the assassin was laid noiselessly +on the floor.</p> + +<p>Denys closed the door; bolted it gently; drew the post to, and even +while he was doing it whispered Gerard to bring a chair. It was +done.</p> + +<p>"Help me set him up."</p> + +<p>"Dead?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"Frighten them! Gain time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span></p> + +<p>Even while saying this, Denys had whipped a piece of string +round the dead man's neck, and tied him to the chair, and there the +ghastly figure sat fronting the door.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Denys, I can do better. Saints forgive me!"</p> + +<p>"What? Be quick then, we have not many moments."</p> + +<p>And Denys got his cross-bow ready, and, tearing off his straw mattress, +reared it before him and prepared to shoot the moment the door +should open, for he had no hope any more would come singly, when +they found the first did not return.</p> + +<p>While thus employed, Gerard was busy about the seated corpse, +and, to his amazement, Denys saw a luminous glow spreading rapidly +over the white face.</p> + +<p>Gerard blew out the candle. And on this the corpse's face shone +still more like a glowworm's head.</p> + +<p>Denys shook in his shoes, and his teeth chattered.</p> + +<p>"What in Heaven's name is this?" he whispered.</p> + +<p>"Hush! 'tis but phosphorus. But 'twill serve."</p> + +<p>"Away! they will surprise thee."</p> + +<p>In fact uneasy mutterings were heard below, and at last a deep +voice said, "What makes him so long? is the drôle rifling them?"</p> + +<p>It was their comrade they suspected then, not the enemy. Soon +a step came softly but rapidly up the stairs: the door was gently +tried.</p> + +<p>When this resisted, which was clearly not expected, the sham post +was very cautiously moved, and an eye no doubt peeped through the +aperture: for there was a howl of dismay, and the man was heard +to stumble back and burst into the kitchen, where a babel of voices +rose directly on his return.</p> + +<p>Gerard ran to the dead thief and began to work on him again.</p> + +<p>"Back, madman!" whispered Denys.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay. I know these ignorant brutes. They will not venture +here awhile. I can make him ten times more fearful."</p> + +<p>"At least close that opening! Let them not see you at your devilish +work."</p> + +<p>Gerard closed the sham post, and in half a minute his brush made +the dead head a sight to strike any man with dismay. He put his +art to a strange use, and one unparalleled perhaps in the history of +mankind. He illuminated his dead enemy's face to frighten his living<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +foe: the staring eyeballs he made globes of fire; the teeth he left +white, for so they were more terrible by the contrast, but the palate +and tongue he tipped with fire, and made one lurid cavern of the +red depths the chap-fallen jaw revealed: and on the brow he wrote +in burning letters "LA MORT." And, while he was doing it, the +stout Denys was quaking, and fearing the vengeance of Heaven; +for one man's courage is not another's; and the band of miscreants +below were quarrelling and disputing loudly, and now without disguise.</p> + +<p>The steps that led down to the kitchen were fifteen, but they were +nearly perpendicular: there was therefore in point of fact no distance +between the besiegers and besieged, and the latter now caught +almost every word. At last one was heard to cry out "I tell ye the +devil has got him and branded him with hell-fire. I am more like +to leave this cursed house than go again into a room that is full +of fiends."</p> + +<p>"Art drunk? or mad? or a coward?" said another.</p> + +<p>"Call me a coward, I'll give thee my dagger's point, and send thee +where Pierre sits o' fire for ever."</p> + +<p>"Come, no quarrelling when work is afoot," roared a tremendous +diapason, "or I'll brain ye both with my fist, and send ye where we +shall all go soon or late."</p> + +<p>"The Abbot," whispered Denys, gravely.</p> + +<p>He felt the voice he had just heard could belong to no man but +the colossus he had seen in passing through the kitchen. It made the +place vibrate. The quarrelling continued some time, and then there +was a dead silence.</p> + +<p>"Look out, Gerard."</p> + +<p>"Ay. What will they do next?"</p> + +<p>"We shall soon know."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Shall I wait for you, or cut down the first that opens the door?"</p> + +<p>"Wait for me, lest we strike the same and waste a blow. Alas! +we cannot afford that."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Dead silence.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Sudden came into the room a thing that made them start and their +hearts quiver.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> + +<p>And what was it? A moonbeam.</p> + +<p>Even so can this machine, the body, by the soul's action be strung +up to start and quiver. The sudden ray shot keen and pure into +that shamble.</p> + +<p>Its calm, cold, silvery soul traversed the apartment in a stream +of no great volume; for the window was narrow.</p> + +<p>After the first tremor Gerard whispered, "Courage, Denys! God's +eye is on us even here." And he fell upon his knees with his face +turned towards the window.</p> + +<p>Ay it was like a holy eye opening suddenly on human crime and +human passions. Many a scene of blood and crime that pure cold +eye has rested on; but on few more ghastly than this, where two +men, with a lighted corpse between them, waited panting, to kill or +be killed. Nor did the moonlight deaden that horrible corpse-light. +If anything it added to its ghastliness: for the body sat at the edge +of the moonbeam, which cut sharp across the shoulder and the ear, +and seemed blue and ghastly and unnatural by the side of that +lurid glow in which the face and eyes and teeth shone horribly. But +Denys dared not look that way.</p> + +<p>The moon drew a broad stripe of light across the door, and on that +his eyes were glued. Presently he whispered, "Gerard!"</p> + +<p>Gerard looked and raised his sword.</p> + +<p>Acutely as they had listened they had heard of late no sound on +the stair. Yet there—on the door-post, at the edge of the stream +of moonlight, were the tips of the fingers of a hand.</p> + +<p>The nails glistened.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Presently they began to crawl, and crawl, down towards the bolt, +but with infinite slowness and caution. In so doing they crept into +the moonlight. The actual motion was imperceptible, but slowly, +slowly, the fingers came out whiter and whiter: but the hand between +the main knuckles and the wrist remained dark. Denys slowly +raised his crossbow.</p> + +<p>He levelled it. He took a long steady aim.</p> + +<p>Gerard palpitated. At last the crossbow twanged. The hand +was instantly nailed, with a stern jar, to the quivering doorpost. +There was a scream of anguish. "Cut," whispered Denys eagerly, +and Gerard's uplifted sword descended and severed the wrist with +two swift blows. A body sank down moaning outside.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span></p> + +<p>The hand remained inside, immovable, with blood trickling from +it down the wall. The fierce bolt slightly barbed had gone through +it, and deep into the real door-post.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 414px;"> +<img src="images/illus239.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="DENYS SAW A STEEL POINT COME OUT OF THE ABBOT" title="" /> +<span class="caption">DENYS SAW A STEEL POINT COME OUT OF THE ABBOT</span> +</div> + +<p>"Two," said Denys, with terrible cynicism.</p> + +<p>He strung his crossbow, and kneeled behind his cover again.</p> + +<p>"The next will be the Abbot."</p> + +<p>The wounded man moved, and presently crawled down to his +companions on the stairs, and the kitchen door was shut.</p> + +<p>There nothing was heard now but low muttering. The last incident +had revealed the mortal character of the weapons used by the +besieged.</p> + +<p>"I begin to think the Abbot's stomach is not so great as his body," +said Denys.</p> + +<p>The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when the following +events happened all in a couple of seconds. The kitchen door was +opened roughly, a heavy but active man darted up the steps without +any manner of disguise, and a single ponderous blow sent the door +not only off its hinges, but right across the room on to Denys's fortification, +which it struck so rudely as nearly to lay him flat. And in +the doorway stood a colossus with a glittering axe.</p> + +<p>He saw the dead man with the moon's blue light on half his +face, and the red light on the other half and inside his chapfallen +jaws: he stared, his arms fell, his knees knocked together, and he +crouched with terror.</p> + +<p>"LA MORT!" he cried in tones of terror, and turned and fled. +In which act Denys started up and shot him through both jaws. +He sprang with one bound into the kitchen, and there leaned on his +axe, spitting blood and teeth and curses.</p> + +<p>Denys strung his bow and put his hand into his breast.</p> + +<p>He drew it out dismayed.</p> + +<p>"My last bolt is gone," he groaned.</p> + +<p>"But we have our swords, and you have slain the giant."</p> + +<p>"No, Gerard," said Denys gravely: "I have not. And the worst +is I have wounded him. Fool! to shoot at a retreating lion. He +had never faced thy handiwork again, but for my meddling."</p> + +<p>"Ha! to your guard! I hear them open the door."</p> + +<p>Then Denys, depressed by the one error he had committed in all +this fearful night, felt convinced his last hour had come. He drew +his sword, but like one doomed. But what is this? a red light<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +flickers on the ceiling. Gerard flew to the window and looked out. +There were men with torches, and breastplates gleaming red. "We +are saved! Armed men!" And he dashed his sword through the +window shouting "Quick! quick! we are sore pressed."</p> + +<p>"Back!" yelled Denys; "they come! strike none but him!"</p> + +<p>That very moment the Abbot and two men with naked weapons +rushed into the room. Even as they came, the outer door was hammered +fiercely, and the Abbot's comrades hearing it, and seeing the +torchlight, turned and fled. Not so the terrible Abbot: wild with +rage and pain, he spurned his dead comrade, chair and all, across +the room, then, as the men faced him on each side with kindling +eyeballs, he waved his tremendous axe like a feather right and +left, and cleared a space, then lifted it to hew them both in pieces.</p> + +<p>His antagonists were inferior in strength, but not in swiftness +and daring, and above all they had settled how to attack him. The +moment he reared his axe, they flew at him like cats, and both together. +If he struck a full blow with his weapon he would most +likely kill one, but the other would certainly kill him: he saw this, +and intelligent as well as powerful, he thrust the handle fiercely in +Denys's face, and, turning, jabbed with the steel at Gerard. +Denys went staggering back covered with blood. Gerard had +rushed in like lightning, and, just as the axe turned to descend on +him, drove his sword so fiercely through the giant's body, that the +very hilt sounded on his ribs like the blow of a pugilist, and Denys, +staggering back to help his friend, saw a steel point come out of +the Abbot behind.</p> + +<p>The stricken giant bellowed like a bull, dropped his axe, and +clutching Gerard's throat tremendously, shook him like a child. +Then Denys with a fierce snarl drove his sword into the giant's back. +"Stand firm now!" and he pushed the cold steel through and through +the giant and out at his breast.</p> + +<p>Thus horribly spitted on both sides, the Abbot, gave a violent +shudder, and his heels hammered the ground convulsively. His lips, +fast turning blue, opened wide and deep, and he cried "LA MORT!—LA +MORT!—LA MORT!!" The first time in a roar of despair, +and then twice in a horror-stricken whisper never to be forgotten.</p> + +<p>Just then the street door was forced.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the Abbot's arms whirled like windmills, and his +huge body wrenched wildly and carried them to the doorway,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +twisting their wrists and nearly throwing them off their legs.</p> + +<p>"He'll win clear yet," cried Denys: "out steel! and in again!"</p> + +<p>They tore out their smoking swords, but, ere they could stab +again, the Abbot leaped full five feet high, and fell with a tremendous +crash against the door below, carrying it away with him like a +sheet of paper, and through the aperture the glare of torches burst +on the awe struck faces above, half blinding them.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The thieves at the first alarm had made for the back door, but +driven thence by a strong guard ran back to the kitchen, just in +time to see the lock forced out of the socket, and half a dozen mailed +archers burst in upon them. On these in pure despair they drew +their swords.</p> + +<p>But ere a blow was struck on either side, the staircase door behind +them was battered into their midst with one ponderous blow, +and with it the Abbot's body came flying, hurled, as they thought +by no mortal hand, and rolled on the floor spouting blood from back +and bosom in two furious jets, and quivered, but breathed no more.</p> + +<p>The thieves smitten with dismay fell on their knees directly, +and the archers bound them, while, above, the rescued ones still +stood like statues rooted to the spot, their dripping swords extended +in the red torchlight, expecting their indomitable enemy to leap +back on them as wonderfully as he had gone.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"WHERE be the true men?"</div> + +<p>"Here be we. God bless you all! God bless you!"</p> + +<p>There was a rush to the stairs, and half a dozen +hard but friendly hands were held out and grasped them warmly. +"Y'have saved our lives, lads," cried Denys, "y'have saved our lives +this night."</p> + +<p>A wild sight met the eyes of the rescued pair. The room flaring +with torches, the glittering breastplates of the archers, their bronzed +faces, the white cheeks of the bound thieves, and the bleeding giant, +whose dead body these hard men left lying there in its own gore.</p> + +<p>Gerard went round the archers and took them each by the hand +with glistening eyes, and on this they all kissed him; and this time<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +he kissed them in return. Then he said to one handsome archer of +his own age, "Prithee, good soldier, have an eye to me. A strange +drowsiness overcomes me. Let no one cut my throat while I sleep—for +pity's sake."</p> + +<p>The archer promised with a laugh; for he thought Gerard was jesting: +and the latter went off into a deep sleep almost immediately.</p> + +<p>Denys was surprised at this: but did not interfere; for it suited +his immediate purpose. A couple of archers were inspecting the +Abbot's body, turning it half over with their feet, and inquiring, +"Which of the two had flung this enormous rogue down from an +upper story like that; they would fain have the trick of his arm."</p> + +<p>Denys at first pished and pshawed, but he dared not play the braggart, +for he said to himself "That young vagabond will break in and +say 'twas the finger of Heaven, and no mortal arm, or some such +stuff, and make me look like a fool." But now, seeing Gerard unconscious, +he suddenly gave this required information:</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you see, comrades, I had run my sword through this +one up to the hilt; and one or two more of 'em came buzzing about +me; so it behoved me have my sword or die: so I just put my foot +against his stomach, gave a tug with my hand and a spring with my +foot, and sent him flying to kingdom come! He died in the air, +and his carrion rolled in amongst you without ceremony: made you +jump I warrant me. But pikestaves and pillage! what avails prattling +of these trifles once they are gone by? buvons, camarades, buvons."</p> + +<p>The archers remarked that it was easy to say "buvons" where no +liquor was, but not so easy to do it.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I'll soon find ye liquor. My nose hath a natural alacrity +at scenting out the wine. You follow me: and I my nose: bring a +torch!" And they left the room, and, finding a short flight of stone +steps, descended them and entered a large, low, damp cellar.</p> + +<p>It smelt close and dank: and the walls were encrusted here and +there with what seemed cobwebs; but proved to be saltpetre that had +oozed out of the damp stones, and crystallized.</p> + +<p>"Oh! the fine mouldy smell," said Denys. "In such placen still +lurks the good wine: advance thy torch. Diable! what is that in the +corner? A pile of rags? No: 'tis a man."</p> + +<p>They gathered round with the torch, and lo! a figure crouched on +a heap in the corner, pale as ashes and shivering.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, it is the landlord," said Denys.</p> + +<p>"Get up, thou craven heart!" shouted one of the archers.</p> + +<p>"Why, man, the thieves are bound, and we are dry, that bound +them. Up! and show us thy wine; for no bottles see I here."</p> + +<p>"What, be the rascals bound?" stammered the pale landlord; +"good news. W—w—wine? that will I, honest sirs."</p> + +<p>And he rose with unsure joints and offered to lead the way to the +wine cellar. But Denys interposed. "You are all in the dark, comrades. +He is in league with the thieves."</p> + +<p>"Alack, good soldier, me in league with the accursed robbers! Is +that reasonable?"</p> + +<p>"The girl said so any way."</p> + +<p>"The girl! What girl? Ah! Curse her, traitress!"</p> + +<p>"Well," interposed the other archer; "the girl is not here, but gone +on to the bailiff. So let the burghers settle whether this craven be +guilty or no: for we caught him not in the act: and let him draw us +our wine."</p> + +<p>"One moment," said Denys, shrewdly. "Why cursed he the girl? +If he be a true man, he should bless her as we do."</p> + +<p>"Alas, sir!" said the landlord, "I have but my good name to live +by, and I cursed her to you, because you said she had belied me."</p> + +<p>"Humph! I trow thou art a thief, and where is the thief that +cannot lie with a smooth face? Therefore hold him, comrades: a +prisoner can draw wine an if his hands be not bound."</p> + +<p>The landlord offered no objection; but on the contrary said he +would with pleasure show them where his little stock of wine was, but +hoped they would pay for what they should drink, for his rent was +due this two months.</p> + +<p>The archers smiled grimly at his simplicity as they thought it; +one of them laid a hand quietly but firmly on his shoulder, the other +led on with the torch.</p> + +<p>They had reached the threshold when Denys cried "Halt!"</p> + +<p>"What is't?"</p> + +<p>"Here be bottles in this corner; advance thy light."</p> + +<p>The torch-bearer went towards him. He had just taken off his +scabbard and was probing the heap the landlord had just been +crouched upon.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," cried the landlord, "the wine is in the next cellar. +There is nothing <i>there</i>."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing is mighty hard, then," said Denys, and drew out something +with his hand from the heap.</p> + +<p>It proved to be only a bone.</p> + +<p>Denys threw it on the floor: it rattled.</p> + +<p>"There is nought there but the bones of the house," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Just now 'twas nothing. Now that we have found something +'tis nothing but bones. Here's another. Humph? look at this one, +comrade; and you come too and look at it, and bring yon smooth +knave along."</p> + +<p>The archer with the torch, whose name was Philippe, held the +bone to the light and turned it round and round.</p> + +<p>"Well?" said Denys.</p> + +<p>"Well, if this was a field of battle I should say 'twas the shank-bone +of a man! no more, no less. But 'tisn't a battle field, nor a +churchyard; 'tis an inn."</p> + +<p>"True, mate: but yon knave's ashy face is as good a light to me +as a field of battle. I read the bone by it. Bring yon face nearer, +I say. When the chine is amissing, and the house dog can't look +at you without his tail creeping between his legs, who was the thief? +Good brothers mine, my mind it doth misgive me. The deeper +I thrust the more there be. Mayhap if these bones could tell +their tale they would make true men's flesh creep that heard +it."</p> + +<p>"Alas! young man, what hideous fancies are these! The bones +are bones of beeves, and sheep, and kids, and not, as you think, of +men and women. Holy saints preserve us!"</p> + +<p>"Hold thy peace! thy words are air. Thou hast not got burghers +by the ear, that know not a veal knuckle from their grandsire's ribs; +but soldiers—men that have gone to look for their dear comrades, +and found their bones picked as clean by the crows, as these I doubt +have been by thee and thy mates. Men and women, saidst thou? +And prithee, when spake I a word of women's bones? Wouldst +make a child suspect thee. Field of battle, comrade! Was not this +house a field of battle half an hour agone? Drag him close to me, +let me read his face; now then, what is this, thou knave?" and he +thrust a small object suddenly in his face.</p> + +<p>"Alas! I know not."</p> + +<p>"Well, I would not swear neither: but it is too like the thumb<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +bone of a man's hand; mates, my flesh it creeps. Churchyard! how +know I this is not one?"</p> + +<p>And he now drew his sword out of the scabbard and began to +rake the heap of earth and broken crockery and bones out on the +floor.</p> + +<p>The landlord assured him he but wasted his time. "We poor innkeepers +are sinners," said he, "we give short measure and baptize +the wine; we are fain to do these things; the laws are so unjust to +us; but we are not assassins. How could we afford to kill our customers? +May Heaven's lightning strike me dead if there be any +bones there but such as have been used for meat. 'Tis the kitchen +wench flings them here; I swear by God's holy mother, by holy Paul, +by holy Dominic, and Denys my patron saint——ah!"</p> + +<p>Denys held out a bone under his eye in dead silence. It was +a bone no man however ignorant, however lying, could confound +with those of sheep or oxen. The sight of it shut the lying lips, +and palsied the heartless heart.</p> + +<p>The landlord's hair rose visibly on his head like spikes, and his +knees gave way as if his limbs had been struck from under him. +But the archers dragged him fiercely up, and kept him erect under +the torch staring fascinated at the dead skull which, white as the +living cheek opposed, but no whiter, glared back again at its +murderer, whose pale lips now opened, and opened, but could utter +no sound.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said Denys, solemnly, and trembling now with rage, "look +on the sockets out of which thou hast picked the eyes, and let them +blast thine eyes, that crows shall pick out ere this week shall end. +Now, hold thou that while I search on. Hold it, I say, or here +I rob the gallows—" and he threatened the quaking wretch with +his naked sword, till with a groan he took the skull and held it, +almost fainting.</p> + +<p>Oh! that every murderer, and contriver of murder, could see him, +sick, and staggering with terror, and with his hair on end holding +the cold skull, and feeling that his own head would soon be like it. +And soon the heap was scattered, and, alas! not one nor two, but +many skulls were brought to light, the culprit moaning at each discovery.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Denys uttered a strange cry of distress to come from +so bold and hard a man; and held up to the torch a mass of human<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +hair. It was long, glossy, and golden. A woman's beautiful hair. +At sight of it the archers instinctively shook the craven wretch in +their hands: and he whined.</p> + +<p>"I have a little sister with hair just so fair and shining as this," +gulped Denys. "Jesu! if it should be hers! There quick, take +my sword and dagger, and keep them from my hand, lest I strike +him dead and wrong the gibbet. And thou, poor innocent victim, +on whose head this most lovely hair did grow, hear me swear thus, +on bended knee, never to leave this man till I see him broken to +pieces on the wheel even for thy sake."</p> + +<p>He rose from his knee. "Ay, had he as many lives as here be +hairs, I'd have them all, by God." And he put the hair into his +bosom. Then in a sudden fury seized the landlord fiercely by the +neck, and forced him to his knees; and foot on head ground his +face savagely among the bones of his victims, where they lay thickest: +and the assassin first yelled, then whined and whimpered, just +as a dog first yells, then whines, when his nose is so forced into some +leveret or other innocent he has killed.</p> + +<p>"Now lend me thy bowstring, Philippe!" He passed it through +the eyes of a skull alternately, and hung the ghastly relic of mortality +and crime round the man's neck; then pulled him up and +kicked him industriously into the kitchen, where one of the aldermen +of the burgh had arrived with constables, and was even now +taking an archer's deposition.</p> + +<p>The grave burgher was much startled at sight of the landlord +driven in bleeding from a dozen scratches inflicted by the bones of his +own victims, and carrying his horrible collar. But Denys came +panting after, and in a few fiery words soon made all clear.</p> + +<p>"Bind him like the rest," said the alderman sternly. "I count +him the blackest of them all."</p> + +<p>While his hands were being bound, the poor wretch begged piteously +that "the skull might be taken from him."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said the alderman. "Certes I had not ordered such +a thing to be put on mortal man. Yet being there I will not lift voice +nor finger to doff it. Methinks it fits thee truly, thou bloody dog. +'Tis thy ensign, and hangs well above a heart so foul as thine."</p> + +<p>He then inquired of Denys if he thought they had secured the +whole gang or but a part.</p> + +<p>"Your worship," said Denys, "there are but seven of them, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +this landlord. One we slew upstairs, one we tumbled down dead, +the rest are bound before you."</p> + +<p>"Good! go fetch the dead one from upstairs, and lay him beside +him I caused to be removed."</p> + +<p>Here a voice like a guinea-fowl's broke peevishly in. "Now, +now, now, where is the hand? that is what I want to see." The +speaker was a little pettifogging clerk.</p> + +<p>"You will find it above, nailed to the door-post by a cross-bow +bolt."</p> + +<p>"Good!" said the clerk. He whispered his master, "What a +godly show will the 'pièces de conviction' make!" and with this +he wrote them down, enumerating them in separate squeaks as he +penned them. Skulls,—Bones,—A woman's hair,—A thief's hand,—1 +axe—2 carcases,—1 cross-bow bolt. This done he itched +to search the cellar himself: there might be other invaluable morsels +of evidence, an ear, or even an earring. The alderman assenting +he caught up a torch and was hurrying thither, when an accident +stopped him, and indeed carried him a step or two in the opposite +direction.</p> + +<p>The constables had gone up the stair in single file.</p> + +<p>But the head constable no sooner saw the phosphorescent corpse +seated by the bedside, than he stood stupefied: and next he began +to shake like one in an ague, and, terror gaining on him more and +more, he uttered a sort of howl and recoiled swiftly. Forgetting +the steps, in his recoil, he tumbled over backward on his nearest +companion: but <i>he</i>, shaken by the shout of dismay, and catching +a glimpse of something horrid, was already staggering back, and +in no condition to sustain the head constable, who, like most head +constables was a ponderous man. The two carried away the third, +and the three the fourth, and they streamed into the kitchen, and +settled on the floor, overlapping each other like a sequence laid out +on a card-table. The clerk coming hastily with his torch ran an +involuntary tilt again the fourth man, who, sharing the momentum +of the mass, knocked him instantly on his back, the ace of that fair +quint: and there he lay kicking and waving his torch, apparently in +triumph, but really in convulsion; sense and wind being driven +out together by the concussion.</p> + +<p>"What is to do now, in Heaven's name?" cried the alderman, +starting up with considerable alarm. But Denys explained, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +offered to accompany his worship. "So be it," said the latter. +His men picked themselves ruefully up, and the alderman put +himself at their head and examined the premises above and below. +As for the prisoners, their interrogatory was postponed till they +could be confronted with the servant.</p> + +<p>Before dawn, the thieves, alive and dead, and all the relics and +evidences of crime and retribution, were swept away into the law's +net, and the inn was silent and almost deserted. There remained +but one constable, and Denys and Gerard, the latter still sleeping +heavily.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERARD awoke, and found Denys watching him with some +anxiety.</div> + +<p>"It is you for sleeping! Why, 'tis high noon."</p> + +<p>"It was a blessed sleep," said Gerard, "methinks Heaven sent +it me. It hath put as it were a veil between me and that awful +night. To think that you and I sit here alive and well. How +terrible a dream I seem to have had!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, lad, that is the wise way to look at these things, when once +they are past, why they are dreams, shadows. Break thy fast, +and then thou wilt think no more on't. Moreover I promised to +bring thee on to the town by noon, and take thee to his worship."</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"He would put questions to thee; by the same when he was +for waking thee to that end, but I withstood him earnestly, and +vowed to bring thee to him in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Thou shalt not break troth for me."</p> + +<p>Gerard then sopped some rye bread in red wine and ate it to break +his fast: then went with Denys over the scene of combat, and came +back shuddering, and finally took the road with his friend, and kept +peering through the hedges and expecting sudden attacks unreasonably, +till they reached the little town. Denys took him to "The +White Hart."</p> + +<p>"No fear of cut-throats here," said he. "I know the landlord +this many a year. He is a burgess, and looks to be bailiff.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +'Tis here I was making for yestreen. But we lost time, and night +overtook us—and—"</p> + +<p>"And you saw a woman at the door, and would be wiser than la +Jeanneton; she told us they were nought."</p> + +<p>"Why, what saved our lives if not a woman? Ay, and risked +her own to do it."</p> + +<p>"That is true, Denys, and though women are nothing to me, I +long to thank this poor girl, and reward her, ay though I share every +doit in my purse with her. Do not you?"</p> + +<p>"Parbleu."</p> + +<p>"Where shall we find her?"</p> + +<p>"Mayhap the alderman will tell us. We must go to him first."</p> + +<p>The alderman received them with the most singular and inexplicable +expression of countenance. However, after a moment's reflection, +he wore a grim smile, and finally proceeded to put interrogatories +to Gerard, and took down the answers. This done he told +them that they must stay in the town until the thieves were tried, +and be at hand to give evidence, on peril of fine and imprisonment. +They looked very blank at this.</p> + +<p>"However," said he, "'twill not be long, the culprits having been +taken red handed." He added, "and you know in any case you +could not leave the place this week."</p> + +<p>Denys stared at this remark, and Gerard smiled at what he thought +the simplicity of the old gentleman in dreaming that a provincial +town of Burgundy had attraction to detain him from Rome and +Margaret.</p> + +<p>He now went to that which was nearest both their hearts. "Your +worship," said he, "we cannot find our benefactress in the town."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but who is your benefactress?"</p> + +<p>"Who? why the good girl that came to you by night and saved our +lives at peril of her own. Oh sir, our hearts burn within us to +thank and bless her: where is she?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>she</i> is in prison."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"IN prison, sir; good lack, for what misdeed?"</div> + +<p>"Well, she is a witness, and may be a necessary one."</p> + +<p>"Why, Messire Bailiff," put in Denys, "you lay not all +your witnesses by the heels I trow."</p> + +<p>The alderman, pleased at being called bailiff, became communicative. +"In a case of blood we detain all testimony that is like to give +us leg bail, and so defeat Justice, and that is why we still keep the +womenfolk. For a man at odd times bides a week in one mind, +but a woman, if she do her duty to the realm o' Friday, she shall +undo it afore Sunday, or try. Could you see yon wench now, you +should find her a blubbering at having betrayed five males to the +gallows. Had they been females, we might have trusted to a subpœna. +For they despise one another. And there they show some +sense. But now I think on't, there were other reasons for laying +this one by the heels. Hand me those depositions, young sir." +And he put on his glasses. "Ay! she was implicated: she was one +of the band."</p> + +<p>A loud disclaimer burst from Denys and Gerard at once.</p> + +<p>"No need to deave me," said the alderman. "Here 'tis in black +and white. 'Jean Hardy (that is one of the thieves), being questioned +confessed that,'—humph? Ay, here 'tis. 'And that the +girl Manon was the decoy, and her sweetheart was Georges Vipont, +one of the band; and hanged last month: and that she had been deject +ever since, and had openly blamed the band for his death, +saying, if they had not been rank cowards, he had never been taken, +and it is his opinion she did but betray them out of very spite, +and—'"</p> + +<p>"His opinion," cried Gerard indignantly, "what signifies the +opinion of a cut-throat, burning to be revenged on her who has +delivered him to justice? And an you go to that what avails his +testimony? Is a thief never a liar? Is he not aye a liar? and here +a motive to lie? Revenge, why 'tis the strongest of all the passions. +And oh, sir, what madness to question a detected felon and listen to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +him lying away an honest life—as if he were a true man swearing +in open day, with his true hand on the Gospel laid!"</p> + +<p>"Young man," said the alderman, "restrain thy heat in presence +of authority! I find by your tongue you are a stranger. Know +then that in this land we question all the world. We are not so +weak as to hope to get at the truth by shutting either our left ear +or our right."</p> + +<p>"And so you would listen to Satan belying the saints!"</p> + +<p>"Ta! ta! The law meddles but with men and women, and these +cannot utter a story all lies, let them try ever so. Wherefore we +shut not the barn-door (as the saying is) against any man's grain. +Only having taken it in we do winnow and sift it. And who told +you I had swallowed the thief's story whole like fair water? Not +so. I did but credit so much on't as was borne out by better proof."</p> + +<p>"Better proof?" and Gerard looked blank. "Why who but the +thieves would breathe a word against her?"</p> + +<p>"Marry, herself."</p> + +<p>"Herself, sir? what did you question her too?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you we question all the world. Here is her deposition, +can you read?—Read it yourself then."</p> + +<p>Gerard looked at Denys and read him</p> + + +<div class='center'><br />MANON'S DEPOSITION</div> + +<p>"I am a native of Epinal. I left my native place two years ago +because I was unfortunate: I could not like the man they bade me. +So my father beat me. I ran away from my father. I went to +service. I left service because the mistress was jealous of me. The +reason they gave for turning me off was, because I was saucy. Last +year I stood in the market-place to be hired with other girls. The +landlord of 'The Fair Star' hired me. I was eleven months with +him. A young man courted me. I loved him. I found out that +travellers came and never went away again. I told my lover. He +bade me hold my peace. He threatened me. I found my lover +was one of a band of thieves. When travellers were to be robbed +the landlord went out and told the band to come. Then I wept +and prayed for the travellers' souls. I never told. A month ago +my lover died.</p> + +<p>"The soldier put me in mind of my lover. He was bearded like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +him I had lost. I cannot tell whether I should have interfered, if +he had had no beard. I am sorry I told now."</p> + +<p>The paper almost dropped from Gerard's hands. Now for the +first time he saw that Manon's life was in mortal danger. He +knew the dogged law, and the dogged men that executed it. He +threw himself suddenly on his knees at the alderman's feet. "Oh, +sir! think of the difference between those cruel men and this poor +weak woman! Could you have the heart to send her to the same +death with them; could you have the heart to condemn us to look +on and see her slaughtered, who, but that she risked her life for ours, +had not now been in jeopardy? Alas, sir! show me and my comrade +some pity, if you have none for her, poor soul. Denys and I +be true men, and you will rend our hearts if you kill that poor +simple girl. What can we do? What is left for us to do then but +cut our throats at her gallow's foot?"</p> + +<p>The alderman was tough but mortal; the prayers and agitation of +Gerard first astounded, then touched him. He showed it in a curious +way. He became peevish and fretful. "There get up, do," said +he. "I doubt whether anybody would say as many words for me. +What ho, Daniel! go fetch the town clerk." And, on that functionary +entering from an adjoining room, "Here is a foolish lad fretting +about yon girl. Can we stretch a point? say we admit her to +bear witness, and question her favorably."</p> + +<p>The town clerk was one of your "impossibility" men.</p> + +<p>"Nay, sir, we cannot do that: she was not concerned in this business. +Had she been accessory, we might have offered her a pardon +to bear witness."</p> + +<p>Gerard burst in. "But she did better. Instead of being accessory, +she stayed the crime; and she proffered herself as witness by +running hither with the tale."</p> + +<p>"Tush, young man, 'tis a matter of law." The alderman and +the clerk then had a long discussion, the one maintaining, the other +denying, that she stood as fair in law, as if she had been accessory +to the attempt on our travellers' lives. And this was lucky for +Manon: for the alderman, irritated by the clerk reiterating that +he could not do this and could not that, and could not do t'other, +said "he would show him he <i>could</i> do anything he chose." And +he had Manon out, and, upon the landlord of the "White Hart" +being her bondsman, and Denys depositing five gold pieces with him,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +and the girl promising, not without some coaxing from Denys, to +attend as a witness, he liberated her, but eased his conscience by +telling her in his own terms his reason for this leniency.</p> + +<p>"The town had to buy a new rope for everybody hanged, and +present it to the bourreau, or else compound with him in money: +and she was not in his opinion worth this municipal expense; +whereas decided characters like her late confederates, were." And +so Denys and Gerard carried her off, Gerard dancing round her for +joy, Denys keeping up her heart by assuring her of the demise of a +troublesome personage, and she weeping inauspiciously. However, +on the road to the "White Hart" the public found her out, and having +heard the whole story from the archers, who naturally told it +warmly in her favour, followed her hurrahing and encouraging her, +till finding herself backed by numbers she plucked up heart. The +landlord too saw at a glance that her presence in the inn would draw +custom, and received her politely and assigned her an upper +chamber: here she buried herself, and being alone rained tears again.</p> + +<p>Poor little mind, it was like a ripple, up and down, down and +up, up and down. Bidding the landlord be very kind to her, and +keep her a prisoner without letting her feel it, the friends went out: +and lo! as they stepped into the street they saw two processions +coming towards them from opposite sides. One was a large one +attended with noise and howls and those indescribable cries, by +which rude natures reveal at odd times that relationship to the +beasts of the field and forest, which at other times we succeed in +hiding. The other, very thinly attended by a few nuns and friars, +came slow and silent.</p> + +<p>The prisoners going to exposure in the market-place. The +gathered bones of the victims coming to the churchyard.</p> + +<p>And the two met in the narrow street nearly at the inn door, and +could not pass each other for a long time, and the bier, that bore the +relics of mortality, got wedged against the cart that carried the men, +who had made those bones what they were, and in a few hours must +die for it themselves. The mob had not the quick intelligence to be +at once struck with this stern meeting: but at last a woman cried +"Look at your work, ye dogs!" and the crowd took it like wildfire, +and there was a horrible yell, and the culprits groaned and tried to +hide their heads upon their bosoms, but could not, their hands being +tied. And there they stood images of pale, hollow-eyed despair,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +and oh how they looked on the bier, and envied those whom they +had sent before them on the dark road they were going upon themselves! +And the two men who were the cause of both processions, +stood and looked gravely on, and even Manon, hearing the disturbance, +crept to the window, and, hiding her face, peeped trembling +through her fingers as women will.</p> + +<p>This strange meeting parted Denys and Gerard. The former +yielded to curiosity and revenge, the latter doffed his bonnet, and +piously followed the poor remains of those whose fate had so nearly +been his own. For some time he was the one lay mourner: but +when they had reached the suburbs, a long way from the greater +attraction that was filling the market-place, more than one artisan +threw down his tools, and more than one shopman left his shop, +and touched with pity, or a sense of our common humanity, and perhaps +decided somewhat by the example of Gerard, followed the bones +bare headed, and saw them deposited with the prayers of the Church +in hallowed ground.</p> + +<p>After the funeral rites Gerard stepped respectfully up to the +curé, and offered to buy a mass for their souls.</p> + +<p>Gerard, son of Catherine, always looked at two sides of a penny: +and he tried to purchase this mass a trifle under the usual terms, +on account of the pitiable circumstances. But the good curé gently +but adroitly parried his ingenuity, and blandly screwed him up to the +market price.</p> + +<p>In the course of the business they discovered a similarity of +sentiments. Piety and worldly prudence are not very rare companions: +still it is unusual to carry both so far as these two men did. +Their collision in the prayer market led to mutual esteem, as when +knight encountered knight worthy of his steel. Moreover the good +curé loved a bit of gossip, and finding his customer was one of those +who had fought the thieves at Domfront, would have him into his +parlour and hear the whole from his own lips. And his heart +warmed to Gerard and he said, "God was good to thee. I thank him +for't, with all my soul. Thou art a good lad." He added drily, +"shouldst have told me this tale in the churchyard. I doubt I had +given thee the mass for love. However," said he (the thermometer +suddenly falling) "'tis ill-luck to go back upon a bargain. But +I'll broach a bottle of my old Medoc for thee: and few be the guests +I would do that for." The curé went to his cupboard and, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +he groped for the choice bottle, he muttered to himself, "At their +old tricks again!"</p> + +<p>"Plait-il?" said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"I said nought. Ay, here 'tis."</p> + +<p>"Nay, your reverence. You surely spoke: you said 'At their +old tricks again!'"</p> + +<p>"Said I so in sooth?" and his reverence smiled. He then proceeded +to broach the wine, and filled a cup for each. Then he put +a log of wood on the fire, for stoves were none in Burgundy. "And +so I said 'At their old tricks!' did I? Come, sip the good wine, +and, whilst it lasts, story for story, I care not if I tell you a little +tale."</p> + +<p>Gerard's eyes sparkled.</p> + +<p>"Thou lovest a story?"</p> + +<p>"As my life."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but raise not thine expectations too high, neither. 'Tis +but a foolish trifle compared with thine adventures."</p> + + +<div class='center'><br />THE CURÉ'S TALE</div> + +<p>"Once upon a time, then, in the kingdom of France, and in the +Duchy of Burgundy, and not a day's journey from the town, where +now we sit a sipping of old Medoc, there lived—a curé. I say he +lived; but barely. The parish was small, the parishioners greedy; +and never gave their curé a doit more than he could compel. +The nearer they brought him to a disembodied spirit by meagre diet, +the holier should be his prayers in their behalf. I know not if this +was their creed, but their practice gave it colour.</p> + +<p>"At last he pickled a rod for them.</p> + +<p>"One day the richest farmer in the place had twins to baptize. +The curé was had to the christening dinner as usual; but, ere he +would baptize the children, he demanded, not the christening fees +only, but the burial fees. 'Saints defend us, parson,' cried the +mother; 'talk not of burying! I did never see children liker to live.' +'Nor I,' said the curé, 'the praise be to God. Natheless, they are +sure to die; being sons of Adam, as well as of thee, dame. But, die +when they will, 'twill cost them nothing; the burial fees being paid +and entered in this book.' 'For all that, 'twill cost them something,' +quoth the miller, the greatest wag in the place, and as big a +knave as any; for which was the biggest God knoweth, but no mortal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +man, not even the hangman. 'Miller, I tell thee nay', quo the curé. +'Parson, I tell you ay,' quo the miller. ''Twill cost them their +lives.' At which millstone conceit was a great laugh; and in the +general mirth the fees were paid and the Christians made.</p> + +<p>"But when the next parishioner's child, and the next after, and all, +had to pay each his burial fee, or lose his place in heaven, discontent +did secretly rankle in the parish. Well, one fine day they met in +secret, and sent a churchwarden with a complaint to the bishop, and +a thunderbolt fell on the poor curé. Came to him at dinner-time a +summons to the episcopal palace, to bring the parish books and answer +certain charges. Then the curé guessed where the shoe pinched. +He left his food on the board; for small his appetite now; and took +the parish books and went quaking.</p> + +<p>"The bishop entertained him with a frown, and exposed the plaint. +'Monseigneur,' said the curé right humbly, 'doth the parish allege +many things against me, or this one only?' 'In sooth, but this one,' +said the bishop; and softened a little. 'First, monseigneur, I acknowledge +the fact.' ''Tis well,' quoth the bishop; 'that saves time +and trouble. Now to your excuse, if excuse there be.' 'Monseigneur, +I have been curé of that parish seven years, and fifty children +have I baptized, and buried not five. At first I used to say, "Heaven +be praised, the air of this village is main healthy," but on +searching the register book I found 'twas always so, and on probing +the matter, it came out that of those born at Domfront, all, but here +and there one, did go and get hanged at Aix. But this was to defraud +not their curé only, but the entire Church of her dues: since +"pendards" pay no funeral fees, being buried in air. Thereupon, +knowing by sad experience their greed, and how they grudge the +Church every sou, I laid a trap to keep them from hanging: for, +greed against greed, there be of them that will die in their beds like +true men, ere the Church shall gain those funeral fees for nought.' +Then the bishop laughed till the tears ran down, and questioned the +churchwarden, and he was fain to confess that too many of the +parish did come to that unlucky end at Aix. 'Then,' said the bishop, +'I do approve the act, for myself and my successors; and so be it +ever, till they mend their manners and die in their beds.' And +the next day came the ringleaders crest-fallen to the curé, and said, +'Parson, ye were ever good to us, barring this untoward matter: +prithee let there be no ill blood anent so trivial a thing.' And the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +curé said, 'My children, I were unworthy to be your pastor could I +not forgive a wrong; go in peace, and get me as many children as +may be, that by the double fees the curé you love may miss +starvation.'</p> + +<p>"And the bishop often told the story, and it kept his memory +of the curé alive, and at last he shifted him to a decent parish, where +he can offer a glass of old Medoc to such as are worthy of it. +Their name it is not legion."</p> + +<p>A light broke in upon Gerard, his countenance showed it.</p> + +<p>"Ay!" said his host, "I am that curé: so now thou canst guess why +I said 'At their old tricks.' My life on't they have wheedled my +successor into remitting those funeral fees. You are well out of that +parish. And so am I."</p> + +<p>The curé's little niece burst in, "Uncle, the weighing:—la! a +stranger!" And burst out.</p> + +<p>The curé rose directly, but would not part with Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Wet thy beard once more, and come with me."</p> + +<p>In the church porch they found the sexton with a huge pair of +scales, and weights of all sizes. Several humble persons were standing +by, and soon a woman stepped forward with a sickly +child and said, "Be it heavy, be it light, I vow, in rye meal of the +best, whate'er this child shall weigh, and the same will duly +pay to holy Church, an if he shall cast his trouble. Pray, good +people, for this child, and for me his mother hither come in dole +and care!"</p> + +<p>The child was weighed, and yelled as if the scale had been the font.</p> + +<p>"Courage! dame," cried Gerard. "This is a good sign. There +is plenty of life here to battle its trouble."</p> + +<p>"Now, blest be the tongue that tells me so," said the poor woman. +She hushed her ponderling against her bosom, and stood aloof watching, +whilst another woman brought her child to scale.</p> + +<p>But presently a loud, dictatorial voice was heard. "Way there, +make way for the seigneur!"</p> + +<p>The small folk parted on both sides like waves ploughed by a +lordly galley, and in marched in gorgeous attire, his cap adorned +by a feather with a topaz at its root, his jerkin richly furred, satin +doublet, red hose, shoes like skates, diamond-hilted sword in velvet +scabbard, and hawk on his wrist, "the lord of the manor." He flung +himself into the scales as if he was lord of the zodiac as well as the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +manor; whereat the hawk balanced and flapped; but stuck: then +winked.</p> + +<p>While the sexton heaved in the great weights, the curé told +Gerard: "My lord had been sick unto death, and vowed his weight in +bread and cheese to the poor, the Church taking her tenth."</p> + +<p>"Permit me, my lord; if your lordship continues to press with +your lordship's staff on the other scale, you will disturb the balance."</p> + +<p>His lordship grinned and removed his staff, and leaned on it. The +curé politely but firmly objected to that too.</p> + +<p>"Mille diables! what am I to do with it, then?" cried the other.</p> + +<p>"Deign to hold it out so, my lord, wide of both scales."</p> + +<p>When my lord did this, and so fell into the trap he had laid for +holy Church, the good curé whispered to Gerard, "Cretensis incidit in +Cretensem!" which I take to mean, "Diamond cut diamond." He +then said with an obsequious air, "If that your lordship grudges Heaven +full weight, you might set the hawk on your lacquey, and so save +a pound."</p> + +<p>"Gramercy for thy rede, curé," cried the great man, reproachfully. +"Shall I for one sorry pound grudge my poor fowl the benefit +of holy Church? I'd as lieve the devil should have me and all my +house as her, any day i' the year."</p> + +<p>"Sweet is affection," whispered the curé.</p> + +<p>"Between a bird and a brute," whispered Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Tush!" and the curé looked terrified.</p> + +<p>The seigneur's weight was booked, and Heaven I trust and believe +did not weigh his gratitude in the balance of the sanctuary.</p> + +<p>For my unlearned reader is not to suppose there was anything the +least eccentric in the man, or his gratitude to the Giver of health +and all good gifts. Men look forward to death, and back upon past +sickness, with different eyes. Item, when men drive a bargain, they +strive to get the sunny side of it; it matters not one straw whether it +is with man or Heaven they are bargaining. In this respect we are +the same now, at bottom, as we were four hundred years ago: only in +those days we did it a grain or two more naïvely, and that naïveté +shone out more palpably, because, in that rude age, body prevailing +over mind, all sentiments took material forms. Man repented with +scourges, prayed by bead, bribed the saints with wax tapers, put fish +into the body to sanctify the soul, sojourned in cold water for empire +over the emotions, and thanked God for returning health in 1 cwt. 2 +stone 7 lb. 3 oz. 1 dwt. of bread and cheese.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span></p> + +<p>Whilst I have been preaching, who preach so rarely and so ill, the +good curé has been soliciting the lord of the manor to step into the +church, and give order what shall be done with his great-great-grandfather.</p> + +<p>"Ods bodikins! what, have you dug him up?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, my lord, he never was buried."</p> + +<p>"What, the old dict was true after all?"</p> + +<p>"So true that the workmen this very day found a skeleton erect in +the pillar they are repairing. I had sent to my lord at once, but +I knew he would be here."</p> + +<p>"It is he! 'Tis he!" said his descendant, quickening his pace. +"Let us go see the old boy. This youth is a stranger I think."</p> + +<p>Gerard bowed.</p> + +<p>"Know then that my great-great-grandfather held his head high, +and, being on the point of death, revolted against lying under the +aisle with his forbears for mean folk to pass over. So, as the tradition +goes, he swore his son (my great-grandfather) to bury him erect +in one of the pillars of the church" (here they entered the porch). +"'For,' quoth he, 'NO BASE MAN SHALL PASS OVER MY +STOMACH.' Peste!" and, even while speaking, his lordship parried +adroitly with his stick a skull that came hopping at him, bowled +by a boy in the middle of the aisle, who took to his heels yelling with +fear the moment he saw what he had done. His lordship hurled the +skull furiously after him as he ran, at which the curé gave a shout +of dismay and put forth his arm to hinder him, but was too late.</p> + +<p>The curé groaned aloud. And, as if this had evoked spirits of +mischief, up started a whole pack of children from some ambuscade, +and unseen, but heard loud enough, clattered out of the church like +a covey rising in a thick wood.</p> + +<p>"Oh! these pernicious brats," cried the curé. "The workmen cannot +go to their nonemete but the church is rife with them. Pray +Heaven they have not found his late lordship; nay, I mind, I hid +his lordship under a workman's jerkin, and—saints defend us! the +jerkin has been moved."</p> + +<p>The poor curé's worst misgivings were realized: the rising generation +of plebeians had played the mischief with the haughty old noble. +"The little ones had jockeyed for the bones oh" and pocketed such +of them as seemed adapted for certain primitive games then in vogue +amongst them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'll excommunicate them," roared the curate, "and all their race."</p> + +<p>"Never heed," said the scapegrace lord: and stroked his hawk; +"there is enough of him to swear by. Put him back! put him back!"</p> + +<p>"Surely, my lord, 'tis your will his bones be laid in hallowed earth, +and masses said for his poor prideful soul?"</p> + +<p>The noble stroked his hawk.</p> + +<p>"Are ye there, Master Curé?" said he. "Nay, the business is too +old: he is out of purgatory by this time, <i>up or down</i>. I shall not +draw my pursestrings for him. Every dog his day. Adieu, Messires, +adieu, ancestor:" and he sauntered off whistling to his hawk +and caressing it.</p> + +<p>His reverence looked ruefully after him.</p> + +<p>"Cretensis incidit in Cretensem," said he sorrowfully. "I thought +I had him safe for a dozen masses. Yet I blame him not, but that +young ne'er-do-weel which did trundle his ancestor's skull at us: for +who could venerate his great-great-grandsire and play football with +his head? Well it behoves us to be better Christians than he is." +So they gathered the bones reverently, and the curé locked them up +and forbade the workmen, who now entered the church, to close up the +pillar, till he should recover by threats of the Church's wrath every +atom of my lord. And he showed Gerard a famous shrine in the +church. Before it were the usual gifts of tapers, &c. There was +also a wax image of a falcon, most curiously moulded and coloured +to the life, eyes and all. Gerard's eye fell at once on this, and he +expressed the liveliest admiration. The curé assented. Then +Gerard asked "Could the saint have loved hawking?"</p> + +<p>The curé laughed at his simplicity. "Nay, 'tis but a statuary +hawk. When they have a bird of gentle breed they cannot train +they make his image, and send it to this shrine with a present, +and pray the saint to work upon the stubborn mind of the original, +and make it ductile as wax: that is the notion, and methinks a reasonable +one, too."</p> + +<p>Gerard assented. "But alack, reverend sir, were I a saint, methinks +I should side with the innocent dove, rather than with the +cruel hawk that rends her."</p> + +<p>"By St. Denys you are right," said the curé. "But, que voulez-vous? +the saints are débonair, and have been flesh themselves, and +know man's frailty and absurdity. 'Tis the Bishop of Avignon sent +this one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What do bishops hawk in this country?"</p> + +<p>"One and all. Every noble person hawks, and lives with hawk +on wrist. Why my lord abbot hard by, and his lordship that has +just parted from us, had a two years' feud as to where they should +put their hawks down on that very altar there. Each claimed the +right hand of the altar for his bird."</p> + +<p>"What desecration!"</p> + +<p>"Nay! nay! thou knowest we make them doff both glove and hawk +to take the blessed eucharist. Their jewelled gloves will they give +to a servant or simple Christian to hold: but their beloved hawks they +will put down on no place less than the altar."</p> + +<p>Gerard inquired how the battle of the hawks ended.</p> + +<p>"Why, the abbot he yielded, as the Church yields to laymen. +He searched ancient books, and found that the left hand was the +more honourable, being in truth the right hand, since the altar +is east, but looks westward. So he gave my lord the soi-disant right +hand, and contented himself with the real right hand, and even so +may the Church still outwit the lay nobles and their arrogance, saving +your presence."</p> + +<p>"Nay, sir, I honour the Church. I am convent bred, and owe all +I have and am to holy Church."</p> + +<p>"Ah, that accounts for my sudden liking to thee. Art a gracious +youth. Come and see me whenever thou wilt."</p> + +<p>Gerard took this as a hint that he might go now. It jumped with +his own wish, for he was curious to hear what Denys had seen and +done all this time. He made his reverence and walked out of the +church; but was no sooner clear of it than he set off to run with all +his might: and, tearing round a corner, ran into a large stomach, +whose owner clutched him, to keep himself steady under the shock; +but did not release his hold on regaining his equilibrium.</p> + +<p>"Let go, man," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Not so. You are my prisoner."</p> + +<p>"Prisoner?"</p> + +<p>"Ay."</p> + +<p>"What for in heaven's name?"</p> + +<p>"What for? Why sorcery."</p> + +<p>"SORCERY?"</p> + +<p>"Sorcery."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE culprits were condemned to stand pinioned in the market-place +for two hours, that should any persons recognize +them or any of them as guilty of other crimes, they might +depose to that effect at the trial.</div> + +<p>They stood however the whole period, and no one advanced anything +fresh against them. This was the less remarkable that they +were night birds, vampires who preyed in the dark on weary travellers, +mostly strangers.</p> + +<p>But, just as they were being taken down, a fearful scream was +heard in the crowd, and a woman pointed at one of them, with eyes +almost starting from their sockets: but ere she could speak she +fainted away.</p> + +<p>Then men and women crowded round her partly to aid her, partly +from curiosity. When she began to recover they fell to conjectures.</p> + +<p>"'Twas at him she pointed."</p> + +<p>"Nay, 'twas at this one."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," said another, "'twas at yon hangdog with the hair +hung round his neck."</p> + +<p>All further conjecture was cut short. The poor creature no sooner +recovered her senses than she flew at the landlord like a lioness. +"My child! Man! man! Give me back my child." And she seized +the glossy golden hair that the officers had hung round his neck, +and tore it from his neck, and covered it with kisses: then, her poor +confused mind clearing, she saw even by this token that her lost girl +was dead, and sank suddenly down shrieking and sobbing so over +the poor hair, that the crowd rushed on the assassin with one savage +growl. His life had ended then and speedily, for in those days all +carried death at their girdles. But Denys drew his sword directly, +and shouting "A moi, camarades!" kept the mob at bay. "Who lays +a finger on him dies." Other archers backed him, and with some +difficulty they kept him uninjured, while Denys appealed to those +who shouted for his blood.</p> + +<p>"What sort of vengeance is this? would you be so mad as rob the +wheel, and give the vermin an easy death?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span></p> + +<p>The mob was kept passive by the archers' steel rather than by +Denys's words, and growled at intervals with flashing eyes. The +municipal officers seeing this, collected round, and with the archers +made a guard, and prudently carried the accused back to gaol.</p> + +<p>The mob hooted them, and the prisoners, indiscriminately. Denys +saw the latter safely lodged, then made for the "White Hart," where +he expected to find Gerard.</p> + +<p>On the way he saw two girls working at a first floor window. He +saluted them. They smiled. He entered into conversation. Their +manners were easy, their complexion high.</p> + +<p>He invited them to a repast at the "White Hart." They objected. +He acquiesced in their refusal. They consented. And in this +charming society he forgot all about poor Gerard, who meantime was +carried off to gaol; but on the way suddenly stopped, having now +somewhat recovered his presence of mind, and demanded to know by +whose authority he was arrested. "By the vice-baillie's," said the +constable.</p> + +<p>"The vice-baillie! Alas! what have I a stranger done to offend a +vice-baillie For this charge of sorcery must be a blind. No sorcerer +am I: but a poor true lad far from his home."</p> + +<p>This vague shift disgusted the officer. "Show him the capias, +Jacques," said he.</p> + +<p>Jacques held out the writ in both hands about a yard and a half +from Gerard's eye; and at the same moment the large constable suddenly +pinned him; both officers were on tenter-hooks lest the prisoner +should grab the document, to which they attached a superstitious +importance.</p> + +<p>But the poor prisoner had no such thought. Query whether he +would have touched it with the tongs. He just craned out his neck +and read it, and, to his infinite surprise, found the vice-bailiff who +had signed the writ was the friendly alderman. He took courage +and assured his captor there was some error. But finding he made +no impression, demanded to be taken before the alderman.</p> + +<p>"What say you to that, Jacques?"</p> + +<p>"Impossible. We have no orders to take him before his worship. +Read the writ!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, but good kind fellows, what harm can it be? I will give +ye each an écu."</p> + +<p>"Jacques, what say you to that?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Humph? I say we have no orders not to take him to his worship. +Read the writ!"</p> + +<p>"Then say we take him to prison round by his worship."</p> + +<p>It was agreed. They got the money: and bade Gerard observe +they were doing him a favour. He saw they wanted a little gratitude +as well as much silver. He tried to satisfy <i>this</i> cupidity, but +it stuck in his throat. Feigning was not his forte.</p> + +<p>He entered the alderman's presence with his heart in his mouth, +and begged with faltering voice to know what he had done to offend +since he left that very room with Manon and Denys.</p> + +<p>"Nought that I know of," said the alderman.</p> + +<p>On the writ being shown him, he told Gerard he had signed it at +daybreak. "I get old and my memory faileth me: a discussing of +the girl I quite forgot your own offence: but I remember now. All +is well. You are he I committed for sorcery. Stay! ere you go +to gaol, you shall hear what your accuser says: run and fetch him, +you."</p> + +<p>The man could not find the accuser all at once. So the alderman, +getting impatient, told Gerard the main charge was that he +had set a dead body a burning with diabolical fire, that flamed, but +did not consume. "And if 'tis true, young man, I'm sorry for thee, +for thou wilt assuredly burn with fire of good pine logs in the market-place +of Neufchasteau."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, for pity's sake let me have speech with his reverence +the curé."</p> + +<p>The alderman advised Gerard against it. "The Church was +harder upon sorcerers than was the corporation."</p> + +<p>"But, sir, I am innocent," said Gerard, between snarling and +whining.</p> + +<p>"Oh; if <i>you</i>—<i>think</i>—you are <i>innocent</i>—officer, go with him to the +curé! but see he 'scape you not. Innocent quotha?"</p> + +<p>They found the curé in his doublet repairing a wheelbarrow. +Gerard told him all, and appealed piteously to him. "Just for +using a little phosphorus—in self-defence—against cut-throats they +are going to hang."</p> + +<p>It was lucky for our magician that he had already told his tale in +full to the curé: for thus that shrewd personage had hold of the +stick at the right end. The corporation held it by the ferule. His +reverence looked exceedingly grave and said, "I must question you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +privately on this untoward business." He took him into a private +room and bade the officer stand outside and guard the door, and be +ready to come if called. The big constable stood outside the door, +quaking, and expecting to see the room fly away and leave a stink +of brimstone. Instantly they were alone the curé unlocked his countenance +and was himself again.</p> + +<p>"Show me the trick on't," said he, all curiosity.</p> + +<p>"I cannot, sir, unless the room be darkened."</p> + +<p>The curé speedily closed out the light with a wooden shutter. +"Now then."</p> + +<p>"But on what shall I put it?" said Gerard. "Here is no dead +face. 'Twas that made it look so dire." The curé groped about +the room. "Good: here is an image: 'tis my patron saint."</p> + +<p>"Heaven forbid! That were profanation."</p> + +<p>"Pshaw! 'twill rub off, will't not?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, but it goes against me to take such liberty with a saint," objected +the sorcerer.</p> + +<p>"Fiddlestick!" said the divine.</p> + +<p>"To be sure my putting it on his holiness will show your reverence +it is no Satanic art."</p> + +<p>"Mayhap 'twas for that I did propose it," said the curé subtly.</p> + +<p>Thus encouraged Gerard fired the eyes and nostrils of the image +and made the curé jump. Then lighted up the hair in patches: +and set the whole face shining like a glowworm's.</p> + +<p>"By'r Lady," shouted the curé, "'tis strange, and small my wonder +that they took you for a magician, seeing a dead face thus fired. +Now come thy ways with me!"</p> + +<p>He put on his grey gown and great hat, and in a few minutes they +found themselves in presence of the alderman. By his side, poisoning +his mind, stood the accuser, a singular figure in red hose and +red shoes, a black gown with blue bands, and a cocked hat.</p> + +<p>After saluting the alderman, the curé turned to this personage and +said good-humouredly, "So, Mangis, at thy work again, babbling +away honest men's lives! Come, your worship, this is the old tale; +two of a trade can ne'er agree. Here is Mangis, who professes sorcery, +and would sell himself to Satan to-night, but that Satan is not +so weak as to buy what he can have gratis, this Mangis, who would be +a sorcerer, but is only a quacksalver, accuses of magic a true lad, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +did but use in self-defence a secret of chemistry well known to me +and to all churchmen."</p> + +<p>"But he is no churchman to dabble in such mysteries," objected +the alderman.</p> + +<p>"He is more churchman than layman, being convent bred, and +in the lesser orders," said the ready curé. "Therefore, sorcerer, +withdraw thy plaint without more words!"</p> + +<p>"That will I not, your reverence," replied Mangis stoutly. "A +sorcerer I am, but a white one, not a black one. I make no pact with +Satan, but on the contrary still battle him with lawful and necessary +arts. I ne'er profane the sacraments, as do the black sorcerers, nor +turn myself into a cat and go sucking infants' blood, nor e'en their +breath, nor set dead men o' fire. I but tell the peasants when their +cattle and their hens are possessed, and at what time of the moon +to plant rye, and what days in each month are lucky for wooing of +women and selling of bullocks, and so forth: above all, it is my art +and my trade to detect the black magicians, as I did that whole tribe +of them who were burnt at Dol but last year."</p> + +<p>"Ay, Mangis. And what is the upshot of that famous fire thy +tongue did kindle?"</p> + +<p>"Why, their ashes were cast to the wind."</p> + +<p>"Ay. But the true end of thy comedy is this. The parliament +of Dijon hath since sifted the matter, and found they were no sorcerers, +but good and peaceful citizens; and but last week did order +masses to be said for their souls, and expiatory farces and mysteries +to be played for them in seven towns of Burgundy; all which will +not of those cinders make men and women again. Now 'tis our +custom in this land, when we have slain the innocent by hearkening +to false knaves like thee, not to blame our credulous ears, but the false +tongue that gulled them. Wherefore bethink thee that, at a word +from me to my lord bishop, thou wilt smell burning pine nearer +than e'er knave smelt it and lived, and wilt travel on a smoky cloud +to him whose heart thou bearest (for the word devil in the Latin it +meaneth 'false accuser'), and whose livery thou wearest."</p> + +<p>And the curé pointed at Mangis with his staff.</p> + +<p>"That is true i'fegs," said the alderman, "for red and black be +the foul fiendys colours."</p> + +<p>By this time the white sorcerer's cheek was as colourless as his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +dress was fiery. Indeed the contrast amounted to pictorial. He +stammered out "I respect holy Church and her will; he shall fire +the churchyard, and all in it, for me: I do withdraw the plaint."</p> + +<p>"Then withdraw thyself," said the vice-bailiff.</p> + +<p>The moment he was gone, the curé took the conversational tone, +and told the alderman courteously that the accused had received the +chemical substance from holy Church, and had restored it her, by +giving it all to him.</p> + +<p>"Then 'tis in good hands," was the reply; "young man, you are +free. Let me have your reverence's prayers."</p> + +<p>"Doubt it not! Humph? Vice-baillie, the town owes me four +silver franks, this three months and more."</p> + +<p>"They shall be paid, curé, ay, ere the week be out."</p> + +<p>On this good understanding Church and State parted. As soon +as he was in the street Gerard caught the priest's hand, and kissed it.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir! Oh, your reverence. You have saved me from the +fiery stake. What can I say, what do? what—"</p> + +<p>"Nought, foolish lad. Bounty rewards itself. Natheless—Humph?—I +wish I had done't without leasing. It ill becomes my +function to utter falsehoods."</p> + +<p>"Falsehood, sir?" Gerard was mystified.</p> + +<p>"Didst not hear me say thou hadst given me that same phosphorus? +'Twill cost me a fortnight's penance, that light word." +The curé sighed, and his eye twinkled cunningly.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," cried Gerard eagerly. "Now Heaven forbid! That +was no falsehood, father: well you knew the phosphorus was yours, +is yours." And he thrust the bottle into the curé's hand; "But alas, +'tis too poor a gift: will you not take from my purse somewhat for +holy Church?" and now he held out his purse with glistening eyes.</p> + +<p>"Nay," said the other brusquely, and put his hands quickly behind +him: "not a doit. Fie! fie! art pauper et exul. Come thou +rather each day at noon and take thy diet with me; for my heart +warms to thee;" and he went off abruptly with his hands behind him.</p> + +<p>They itched.</p> + +<p>But they itched in vain.</p> + +<p>Where there's a heart there's a Rubicon.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Gerard went hastily to the inn to relieve Denys of the anxiety so +long and mysterious an absence must have caused him. He found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +him seated at his ease, playing dice with two young ladies whose +manners were unreserved, and complexion high.</p> + +<p>Gerard was hurt. "N'oubliez point la Jeanneton!" said he, +colouring up.</p> + +<p>"What of her?" said Denys gaily rattling the dice.</p> + +<p>"She said 'le peu que sont les femmes.'"</p> + +<p>"Oh did she? and what say you to that, mesdemoiselles?"</p> + +<p>"We say that none run women down, but such as are too old or +too ill-favoured, or too witless, to please them."</p> + +<p>"Witless, quotha. Wise men have not folly enough to please +them, nor madness enough to desire to please them," said Gerard +loftily: "but 'tis to my comrade I speak, not to you, you brazen +toads, that make so free with a man at first sight."</p> + +<p>"Preach away, comrade. Fling a byword or two at our heads. +Know, girls, that he is a very Solomon for bywords. Methinks he +was brought up by hand on 'em."</p> + +<p>"Be thy friendship a byword!" retorted Gerard. "The friendship +that melts to nought at sight of a farthingale."</p> + +<p>"Malheureux!" cried Denys, "I speak but pellets, and thou +answerest daggers."</p> + +<p>"Would I could," was the reply. "Adieu."</p> + +<p>"What a little savage!" said one of the girls.</p> + +<p>Gerard opened the door and put in his head. "I have thought +of a byword," said he spitefully,</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Qui hante femmes et dez<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 0.5em;">Il mourra en pauvretez.'</span><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>There." And having delivered this thunderbolt of antique wisdom +he slammed the door viciously ere any of them could retort.</div> + +<p>And now, being somewhat exhausted by his anxieties, he went +to the bar for a morsel of bread and a cup of wine. The landlord +would sell nothing less than a pint bottle. Well then he would have +a bottle: but, when he came to compare the contents of the bottle +with its size, great was the discrepancy: on this he examined the +bottle keenly, and found that the glass was thin where the bottle +tapered, but towards the bottom unnaturally thick. He pointed this +out at once.</p> + +<p>The landlord answered superciliously that he did not make bottles: +and was nowise accountable for their shape.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span></p> + +<p>"That we will see presently," said Gerard. "I will take this +thy pint to the vice-bailiff."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, for Heaven's sake," cried the landlord changing his +tone at once. "I love to content my customers. If, by chance this +pint be short, we will charge it and its fellow three sous, instead of +two sous each."</p> + +<p>"So be it. But much I admire that you, the host of so fair an +inn, should practise thus. The wine too smacketh strongly of spring +water."</p> + +<p>"Young sir," said the landlord, "we cut no travellers' throats at +this inn, as they do at most. However, you know all about that. +The 'White Hart' is no lion, nor bear. Whatever masterful robbery +is done here, is done upon the poor host. How then could he +live at all if he dealt not a little crooked with the few who pay?"</p> + +<p>Gerard objected to this system root and branch. Honest trade +was small profits, quick returns; and neither to cheat nor be cheated.</p> + +<p>The landlord sighed at this picture. "So might one keep an +inn in heaven, but not in Burgundy. When foot soldiers going to +the wars are quartered on me, how can I but lose by their custom? +Two sous per day is their pay, and they eat two sous' worth, and +drink into the bargain. The pardoners are my good friends, but +palmers and pilgrims, what think you I gain by them? marry, a +loss. Minstrels and jongleurs draw custom, and so claim to pay +no score, except for liquor. By the secular monks I neither gain nor +lose, but the black and grey friars have made vow of poverty, but +not of famine; eat like wolves and give the poor host nought but +their prayers; and mayhap not them: how can he tell? In my +father's day we had the weddings: but now the great gentry let their +houses and their plates, their mugs, and their spoons, to any honest +couple that want to wed, and thither the very mechanics go with +their brides and bridal train. They come not to us: indeed we +could not find seats and vessels for such a crowd as eat and drink +and dance the week out at the homeliest wedding now. In my +father's day the great gentry sold wine by the barrel only; but now +they have leave to cry it, and sell it by the galopin, in the very +market-place. How can we vie with them? They grow it. We buy +it of the grower. The coroner's quests we have still, and these +would bring goodly profit, but the meat is aye gone ere the mouths +be full."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You should make better provision," suggested his hearer.</p> + +<p>"The law will not let us. We are forbidden to go into the market +for the first hour. So, when we arrive, the burghers have bought +all but the refuse. Besides the law forbids us to buy more than +three bushels of meal at a time: yet market day comes but once a +week. As for the butchers, they will not kill for us unless we +bribe them."</p> + +<p>"Courage!" said Gerard kindly, "the shoe pinches every trader +somewhere."</p> + +<p>"Ay: but not as it pinches us. Our shoe is trode all o' one side +as well as pinches us lame. A savoir, if we pay not the merchants +we buy meal, meat, and wine of, they can cast us into prison and +keep us there till we pay or die. But we cannot cast into prison +those who buy those very victuals of us. A traveller's horse we +may keep for his debt; but where in Heaven's name? In our own +stable, eating his head off at our cost. Nay, we may keep the +traveller himself, but where? In gaol? Nay, in our own good house, +and there must we lodge and feed him gratis. And so fling good +silver after bad? merci; no: let him go with a wanion. Our honestest +customers are the thieves. Would to Heaven there were more of +them. They look not too close into the shape of the canakin, nor +into the host's reckoning: with them and with their purses 'tis lightly +come, and lightly go. Also they spend freely, not knowing but each +carouse may be their last. But the thief-takers, instead of profiting +by this fair example, are for ever robbing the poor host. When +noble or honest travellers descend at our door, come the provost's +men pretending to suspect them, and demanding to search them and +their papers. To save which offence the host must bleed wine and +meat. Then come the excise to examine all your weights and measures. +You must stop their mouths with meat and wine. Town +excise. Royal excise. Parliament excise. A swarm of them, and +all with a wolf in their stomachs and a sponge in their gullets. +Monks, friars, pilgrims, palmers, soldiers, excisemen, provost-marshals +and men, and mere bad debtors, how can the 'White Hart' +butt against all these? Cutting no throats in self-defence as do +your 'Swans' and 'Roses' and 'Boar's Heads' and 'Red Lions' +and 'Eagles,' your 'Moons,' 'Stars,' and 'Moors,' how can the +'White Hart' give a pint of wine for a pint? And everything +risen so. Why, lad, not a pound of bread I sell but costs me three<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +good copper deniers, twelve to the sou; and each pint of wine, bought +by the tun, costs me four deniers; every sack of charcoal two sous, +and gone in a day. A pair of partridges five sous. What think +you of that? Heard one ever the like? five sous for two little beasts +all bone and feather? A pair of pigeons, thirty deniers. 'Tis +ruination!!! For we may not raise <i>our</i> pricen with the market. +Oh no. I tell thee the shoe is trod all o' one side as well as pinches +the water into our eyn. We may charge nought for mustard, pepper, +salt, or firewood. Think you we get them for nought? Candle +it is a sou the pound. Salt five sous the stone, pepper four sous +the pound, mustard twenty deniers the pint: and raw meat, dwindleth +it on the spit with no cost to me but loss of weight? Why what +think you I pay my cook? But you shall never guess. A HUNDRED +SOUS A YEAR AS I AM A LIVING SINNER.</p> + +<p>"And my waiter thirty sous, besides his perquisites. He is a +hantle richer than I am. And then to be insulted as well as pillaged. +Last Sunday I went to church. It is a place I trouble not +often. Didn't the curé lash the hotel-keepers? I grant you he +hit all the trades, except the one that is a byword for looseness, and +pride, and sloth, to wit the clergy. But, mind you, he stripeit +the other lay estates with a feather, but us hotel-keepers with a +neat's pizzle: godless for this, godless for that, and most godless +of all for opening our doors during mass. Why the law forces us +to open at all hours to travellers from another town, stopping, halting, +or passing: those be the words. They can fine us before the +bailiff if we refuse them, mass or no mass: and, say a townsman +should creep in with the true travellers, are we to blame? They +all vow they are tired wayfarers; and can I ken every face in a +great town like this? So if we respect the law our poor souls are +to suffer, and if we respect it not, our poor lank purses must bleed +at two holes, fine and loss of custom."</p> + +<p>A man speaking of himself in general, is "a babbling brook;" +of his wrongs, "a shining river."</p> + +<div class='center'> +"Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis ævum."<br /> +</div> + +<p>So luckily for my readers, though not for all concerned, this +injured orator was arrested in mid career. Another man burst +in upon his wrongs with all the advantage of a recent wrong; a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +wrong red hot. It was Denys cursing and swearing and crying +that he was robbed.</p> + +<p>"Did those hussies pass this way? who are they? where do they +bide? They have ta'en my purse and fifteen golden pieces: raise +the hue and cry! ah! traitresses! vipers! These inns are all guetapens."</p> + +<p>"There now," cried the landlord to Gerard.</p> + +<p>Gerard implored him to be calm and say how it had befallen.</p> + +<p>"First one went out on some pretence: then after a while the other +went to fetch her back, and, neither returning, I clapped hand to +purse and found it empty: the ungrateful creatures, I was letting +them win it in a gallop: but loaded dice were not quick enough; they +must claw it all in a lump."</p> + +<p>Gerard was for going at once to the alderman and setting the +officers to find them.</p> + +<p>"Not I," said Denys. "I hate the law. No: as it came so let +it go."</p> + +<p>Gerard would not give if up so.</p> + +<p>At a hint from the landlord he forced Denys along with him to +the provost-marshal. That dignitary shook his head. "We have +no clue to occasional thieves, that work honestly at their needles, +till some gull comes and tempts them with an easy booty, and then +they pluck him."</p> + +<p>"Come away," cried Denys furiously. "I knew what use a +bourgeois would be to me at a pinch:" and he marched off in a +rage.</p> + +<p>"They are clear of the town ere this," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Speak no more on't if you prize my friendship. I have five +pieces with the bailiff, and ten I left with Marion, luckily: or these +traitresses had feathered their nest with my last plume. What +dost gape for so? Nay, I do ill to vent my choler on thee: I'll tell +thee all. Art wiser than I. What saidst thou at the door? No +matter. Well then I did offer marriage to that Marion."</p> + +<p>Gerard was dumbfoundered.</p> + +<p>"What? you offered her what?"</p> + +<p>"Marriage. Is that such a mighty strange thing to offer a +wench?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis a strange thing to offer to a strange girl in passing."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I am not such a sot as you opine. I saw the corn in all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +that chaff. I knew I could not get her by fair means, so I was fain +to try foul. 'Mademoiselle,' said I, 'marriage is not one of my +habits, but struck by your qualities I make an exception: deign to +bestow this hand on me.'"</p> + +<p>"And she bestowed it on thine ear."</p> + +<p>"Not so. On the contrary she—Art a disrespectful young monkey. +Know that here, not being Holland or any other barbarous +state, courtesy begets courtesy. Says she a colouring like a rose, +'Soldier, you are too late. He is not a patch on you for looks, but +then—he has loved me a long time.'</p> + +<p>"'He? who?'</p> + +<p>"'T'other.'</p> + +<p>"'What other?'</p> + +<p>"'Why he that was not too late.' Oh, that is the way they all +speak, the loves; the she-wolves. Their little minds go in leaps. +Think you they marshal their words in order of battle? their tongues +are in too great a hurry. Says she, 'I love him not; not to say +love him: but he does me, and dearly: and for that reason I'd sooner +die than cause him grief, I would.'"</p> + +<p>"Now I believe she did love him."</p> + +<p>"Who doubts that? Why she said so, round about, as they always +say these things, and with 'nay' for 'ay'. 'I hope you will be +happy together,' said I.</p> + +<p>"Well one thing led to another, and at last as she could not give +me her hand, she gave me a piece of advice, and that was to leave part +of my money with the young mistress. Then, when bad company +had cleaned me out, I should have some to travel back with, said +she. I said I would better her advice, and leave it with her. Her +face got red. Says she, 'Think what you do. Chambermaids +have an ill name for honesty.' 'Oh, the devil is not so black as +he is painted,' said I. 'I'll risk it;' and I left fifteen gold pieces +with her."</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed. "I wish you may ever see them again. It is +wondrous in what esteem you do hold this sex, to trust so to the +first comer. For my part I know little about them; I never saw but +one I could love as well as I love thee. But the ancients must surely +know; and they held women cheap. 'Levius quid fœminâ,' said +they, which is but la Jeanneton's tune in Latin, 'Le peu que sont +les femmes.' Also do but see how the greybeards of our own day<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +speak of them, being no longer blinded by desire: this alderman to +wit."</p> + +<p>"Oh novice of novices," cried Denys, "not to have seen why that +old fool rails so on the poor things! One day, out of the millions of +women he blackens one did prefer some other man to him: for which +solitary piece of bad taste, and ten to one 'twas good taste, he doth +bespatter creation's fairer half, thereby proving what? le peu que +sont les hommes."</p> + +<p>"I see women have a shrewd champion in thee," said Gerard, with +a smile. But the next moment inquired gravely why he had not +told him all this before.</p> + +<p>Denys grinned. "Had the girl said 'Ay,' why then I had +told thee straight. But 'tis a rule with us soldiers never to publish +our defeats: 'tis much if after each check we claim not a +victory."</p> + +<p>"Now that is true," said Gerard, "Young as I am, I have seen +this: that after every great battle the generals on both sides go to +the nearest church and sing each a Te Deum for the victory: methinks +a Te Martem, or Te Bellonam, or Te Mercurium, Mercury +being the god of lies, were more fitting."</p> + +<p>"Pas si bête," said Denys, approvingly. "Hast a good eye: canst +see a steeple by daylight. So now tell me how thou hast fared in +this town all day."</p> + +<p>"Come," said Gerard, "'tis well thou hast asked me: for else I +had never told thee." He then related in full how he had been +arrested, and by what a providential circumstance he had escaped +long imprisonment or speedy conflagration.</p> + +<p>His narrative produced an effect he had little expected or desired. +"I am a traitor," cried Denys. "I left thee in a strange place to +fight thine own battles, while I shook the dice with those jades. Now +take thou this sword and pass it through my body forthwith."</p> + +<p>"What for in Heaven's name?" inquired Gerard.</p> + +<p>"For an example," roared Denys. "For a warning to all false +loons that profess friendship, and disgrace it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Gerard. "Yes. Not a bad notion. Where +will you have it?"</p> + +<p>"Here, through my heart; that is, where other men have a heart, +but I none, or a satanic false one."</p> + +<p>Gerard made a motion to run him through, and flung his arms<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +round his neck instead. "I know no way to thy heart but this, +thou great silly thing."</p> + +<p>Denys uttered an exclamation, then hugged him warmly,—and, +quite overcome by this sudden turn of youthful affection and native +grace, gulped out in a broken voice "Railest on women—and art—like +them—with thy pretty ways. Thy mother's milk is in thee +still. Satan would love thee, or—le bon Dieu would kick him out +of hell for shaming it. Give me thy hand! Give me thy hand! +May" (a tremendous oath) "if I let thee out of my sight till Italy."</p> + +<p>And so the stanch friends were more than reconciled after their +short tiff.</p> + +<p>The next day the thieves were tried. The pièces de conviction +were reduced in number, to the great chagrin of the little clerk, by +the interment of the bones. But there was still a pretty show. A +thief's hand struck off flagrante delicto; a murdered woman's hair; +the Abbot's axe, and other tools of crime. The skulls &c. were sworn +to by the constables who had found them. Evidence was lax in that +age and place. They all confessed but the landlord. And Manon +was called to bring the crime home to him. Her evidence was conclusive. +He made a vain attempt to shake her credibility by drawing +from her that her own sweetheart had been one of the gang, and +that she had held her tongue so long as he was alive. The public +prosecutor came to the aid of his witness, and elicited that a knife +had been held to her throat, and her own sweetheart had sworn with +solemn oaths to kill her should she betray them, and that this +terrible threat, and not the mere fear of death, had glued her lips.</p> + +<p>The other thieves were condemned to be hanged, and the landlord +to be broken on the wheel. He uttered a piercing cry when his +sentence was pronounced.</p> + +<p>As for poor Manon she became the subject of universal criticism. +Nor did opinion any longer run dead in her favour; it divided into +two broad currents. And, strange to relate, the majority of her +own sex took her part, and the males were but equally divided; +which hardly happens once in a hundred years. Perhaps some lady +will explain the phenomenon. As for me, I am a little shy of explaining +things I don't understand. It has become so common. +Meantime, had she been a lover of notoriety, she would have been +happy, for the town talked of nothing but her. The poor girl however +had but one wish; to escape the crowd that followed her, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +hide her head somewhere where she could cry over her "pendard," +whom all these proceedings brought vividly back to her affectionate +remembrance. Before he was hanged he had threatened her life: +but she was not one of your fastidious girls, who love their male +divinities any the less for beating them, kicking them, or killing them, +but rather the better, provided these attentions are interspersed +with occasional caresses; so it would have been odd indeed had she +taken offence at a mere threat of that sort. He had never threatened +her with a rival. She sobbed single-mindedly.</p> + +<p>Meantime the inn was filled with thirsters for a sight of her, who +feasted and drank, to pass away the time till she should deign to +appear. When she had been sobbing some time, there was a tap +at her door, and the landlord entered with a proposal. "Nay, +weep not, good lass, your fortune it is made an you like. Say the +word, and you are chambermaid of the 'White Hart.'"</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," said Manon with a fresh burst of grief. "Never +more will I be a servant in an inn. I'll go to my mother."</p> + +<p>The landlord consoled and coaxed her: and she became calmer, but +none the less determined against his proposal.</p> + +<p>The landlord left her. But ere long he returned and made her another +proposal. Would she be his wife, and landlady of the "White +Hart?"</p> + +<p>"You do ill to mock me," said she sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"Nay, sweetheart. I mock thee not. I am too old for sorry +jests. Say you the word, and you are my partner for better for +worse."</p> + +<p>She looked at him, and saw he was in earnest: on this she suddenly +rained hard to the memory of "le pendard:" the tears came in a +torrent being the last; and she gave her hand to the landlord of the +"White Hart," and broke a gold crown with him in sign of plighted +troth.</p> + +<p>"We will keep it dark till the house is quiet," said the landlord.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said she: "but meantime prithee give me linen to hem, or +work to do: for the time hangs on me like lead."</p> + +<p>Her betrothed's eye brightened at this house-wifely request, and +he brought her up two dozen flagons of various sizes to clean and +polish.</p> + +<p>She gathered complacency as she reflected that by a strange turn +of fortune all this bright pewter was to be hers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span></p> + +<p>And this mighty furbishing up of pewter reminds me that justice +requires me to do a stroke of the same work.</p> + +<p>Well then, the deposition, read out in the alderman's room as +Manon's, was not so exact as such things ought to be. The alderman +had condensed her evidence. Now there are in every great +nation about three persons capable of condensing evidence without +falsifying it: but this alderman was not one of that small band. In +the first part of the deposition he left out as unimportant these +words "my mother advised me to keep out of his way till his wrath +should cool."</p> + +<p>Between the words "jealous of me" and "the reason" Manon had +said "My master was aye at my heels: so I told my mistress, and +said I would rather go than be cause of mischief." This the alderman +suppressed as mere babel: whereas it was a worthy trait. He +also let slip the word "afterwards" in the next sentence. Manon +had said the reason they gave <i>afterwards</i>, <i>i. e.</i>, "when I was no +longer there to contradict them." And so on all through the deposition.</p> + +<p>Sometimes the deponent suffered as many a one does now-a-days, +in the newspaper and other reports, by the mere suppression of the +question. For instance this is what actually was said:—</p> + +<p><i>The Alderman.</i> "Come now, should you have interfered if this +soldier had had no beard?"</p> + +<p><i>Manon.</i> "How can I tell what I <i>should</i> have done?"</p> + +<p>Now this was merely a sensible answer to a monstrous question +no magistrate had a right to put. But, under the condensing process, +behold her saddled with a volunteer statement of a very damaging +character.</p> + +<p>Finally she had said, "I am sorry I told, if I am to be hanged +for it."</p> + +<p>This the old boy condensed ut supra, <a href="#Page_136">p. 136</a>, anticipating as far +as possible the tuneful Sinclair.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a></p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span></p> +<p>Whilst Manon and I were cleaning, she her coming, I my parting, +pewter, the landlord went down stairs and falling in with our +friends drew them aside into the bar.</p> + +<p>He then addressed Denys with considerable solemnity. "We +are old acquaintances, and you want not for sagacity: now advise +me in a strait. My custom is somewhat declining: this girl Manon +is the talk of the town; see how full the inn is to-night. She doth +refuse to be my chambermaid. I have half a mind to marry her. +What think you? shall I say the word?"</p> + +<p>Denys in reply merely opened his eyes wide with amazement.</p> + +<p>The landlord turned to Gerard with a half-inquiring look.</p> + +<p>"Nay, sir," said Gerard. "I am too young to advise my seniors +and betters."</p> + +<p>"No matter. Let us hear your thought."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, it was said of a good wife by the ancients 'bene quæ +latuit, bene vixit,' that is, she is the best wife that is least talked +of: but here 'male quæ patuit' were as near the mark. Therefore, +an you bear the lass good-will, why not club purses with Denys and +me and convey her safe home with a dowry? Then mayhap some +rustical person in her own place may be brought to wive her."</p> + +<p>"Why so many words?" said Denys. "This old fox is not the +ass he affects to be."</p> + +<p>"Oh! that is your advice is it?" said the landlord testily. "Well +then we shall soon know who is the fool, you or me, for I have spoken +to her as it happens; and what is more she has said Ay, and she is +polishing the flagons at this moment."</p> + +<p>"Oho!" said Denys drily, "'twas an ambuscade. Well, in that +case, my advice is, run for the notary, tie the noose, and let us three +drink the bride's health, till we see six sots a-tippling."</p> + +<p>"And shall. Ay, now you utter sense."</p> + +<p>In ten minutes a civil marriage was effected upstairs before a +notary and his clerk and our two friends.</p> + +<p>In ten minutes more the white hind, dead sick of seclusion, had +taken her place within the bar, and was serving out liquids, and +bustling, and her color rising a little.</p> + +<p>In six minutes more she soundly rated a careless servant-girl for +carrying a nipperkin of wine awry and spilling good liquor.</p> + +<p>During the evening she received across the bar eight offers of +marriage, some of them from respectable burghers. Now the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +landlord and our two friends had in perfect innocence ensconced +themselves behind a screen to drink at their ease the new couple's +health. The above comedy was thrown in for their entertainment +by bounteous fate. They heard the proposals made one after another, +and uninventive Manon's invariable answer—"Serviteur; +you are a day after the fair." The landlord chuckled and looked +good-natured superiority at both his late advisers, with their +traditional notions that men shun a woman "quæ patuit," <i>i. e.</i>, who +has become the town talk.</p> + +<p>But Denys scarce noticed the spouse's triumph over him, he was +so occupied with his own over Gerard. At each municipal tender +of undying affection, he turned almost purple with the effort it +cost him not to roar with glee; and driving his elbow into the deep-meditating +and much-puzzled pupil of antiquity, whispered "le peu +que sont les hommes."</p> + +<p>The next morning Gerard was eager to start, but Denys was +under a vow to see the murderers of the golden-haired girl executed.</p> + +<p>Gerard respected his vow, but avoided his example.</p> + +<p>He went to bid the curé farewell instead, and sought and received +his blessing. About noon the travellers got clear of the town. Just +outside the south gate they passed the gallows; it had eight tenants: +the skeleton of Manon's late wept, and now being fast forgotten, +lover, and the bodies of those who had so nearly taken our travellers' +lives. A hand was nailed to the beam. And hard by on a huge +wheel was clawed the dead landlord, with every bone in his body +broken to pieces.</p> + +<p>Gerard averted his head and hurried by. Denys lingered, and +crowed over his dead foes. "Times are changed, my lads, since +we two sat shaking in the cold awaiting you seven to come and cut +our throats."</p> + +<p>"Fie, Denys! Death squares all reckonings. Prithee pass on +without another word, if you prize my respect a groat."</p> + +<p>To this earnest remonstrance Denys yielded. He even said +thoughtfully "you have been better brought up than I."</p> + +<p>About three in the afternoon they reached a little town with the +people buzzing in knots. The wolves, starved by the cold, had +entered, and eaten two grown-up persons over-night, in the main +street: so some were blaming the eaten; "none but fools or knaves +are about after nightfall;" others the law for not protecting the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +town, and others the corporation for not enforcing what laws there +were.</p> + +<p>"Bah! this is nothing to us," said Denys, and was for resuming +their march.</p> + +<p>"Ay, but 'tis," remonstrated Gerard.</p> + +<p>"What, are we the pair they ate?"</p> + +<p>"No, but we may be the next pair."</p> + +<p>"Ay, neighbour," said an ancient man, "'tis the town's fault for +not obeying the ducal ordinance, which bids every shopkeeper light +a lamp o'er his door at sunset, and burn it till sunrise."</p> + +<p>On this Denys asked him somewhat derisively, "What made him +fancy rush dips would scare away empty wolves? Why mutton fat +is all their joy."</p> + +<p>"'Tis not the fat, vain man, but the light. All ill things hate +light; especially wolves and the imps that lurk, I ween, under their +fur. Example; Paris city stands in a wood like, and the wolves +do howl around it all night: yet of late years wolves come but little +in the streets. For why, in that burgh the watchmen do thunder +at each door that is dark, and make the weary wight rise and light. +'Tis my son tells me. He is a great voyager, my son Nicholas."</p> + +<p>In further explanation he assured them that previously to that +ordinance no city had been worse infested with wolves than Paris; +a troop had boldly assaulted the town in 1420, and in 1438 they +had eaten fourteen persons in a single month between Montmartre +and the gate St. Antoine, and that not a winter month even, but +September: and as for the dead, which nightly lay in the streets +slain in midnight brawls, or assassinated, the wolves had used to +devour them, and to grub up the fresh graves in the churchyards +and tear out the bodies.</p> + +<p>Here a thoughtful citizen suggested that probably the wolves +had been bridled of late in Paris, not by candle-lights, but owing to +the English having been driven out of the kingdom of France. "For +those English be very wolves themselves for fierceness and greediness." +What marvel then that under their rule our neighbours of +France should be wolf-eaten? This logic was too suited to the +time and place, not to be received with acclamation. But the old +man stood his ground. "I grant ye those islanders are wolves: but +two-legged ones, and little apt to favour their four-footed cousins. +One greedy thing loveth it another? I trow not. By the same<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +token, and this too I have from my boy Nicole, Sir Wolf dare not +show his nose in London city; though 'tis smaller than Paris, and +thick woods hard by the north wall, and therein great store of deer, +and wild boars rife as flies at midsummer."</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 404px;"> +<img src="images/illus283.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="THEY UNBONNETED AND LOUTED LOW, AND SHE CURTSIED" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THEY UNBONNETED AND LOUTED LOW, AND SHE CURTSIED</span> +</div> + +<p>"Sir," said Gerard, "you seem conversant with wild beasts, prithee +advise my comrade here and me: we would not waste time on the +road, and if we may go forward to the next town with reasonable +safety."</p> + +<p>"Young man, I trow 'twere an idle risk. It lacks but an hour of +dusk, and you must pass nigh a wood, where lurk some thousands +of these half-starved vermin, rank cowards single; but in great +bands bold as lions. Wherefore I rede you sojourn here the night; +and journey on betimes. By the dawn the vermin will be tired out +with roaring and rampaging; and mayhap will have filled their +lank bellies with flesh of my good neighbours here, the unteachable +fools."</p> + +<p>Gerard hoped not; and asked could he recommend them to a good +inn?</p> + +<p>"Humph? there is the 'Tête d'Or.' My granddaughter keeps it. +She is a mijaurée, but not so knavish as most hotel-keepers, and her +house indifferent clean."</p> + +<p>"Hey, for the 'Tête d'Or,'" struck in Denys, decided by his ineradicable +foible.</p> + +<p>On the way to it, Gerard inquired of his companion what "a +mijaurée" was?</p> + +<p>Denys laughed at his ignorance. "Not know what a mijaurée +is? why all the world knows that. It is neither more nor less than +a mijaurée."</p> + +<p>As they entered the "Tête d'Or" they met a young lady richly +dressed, with the velvet chaperon on her head, which was confined by +law to the nobility. They unbonneted and louted low, and she curtsied, +but fixed her eye on vacancy the while, which had a curious +rather than a genial effect. However nobility was not so unassuming +in those days as it is now. So they were little surprised. But +the next minute supper was served, and lo! in came this princess +and carved the goose.</p> + +<p>"Holy St. Bavon," cried Gerard. "'Twas the landlady all the +while."</p> + +<p>A young woman, cursed with nice white teeth and lovely hands:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +for these beauties being misallied to homely features had turned +her head. She was a feeble carver, carving not for the sake of +others but herself, <i>i. e.</i>, to display her hands. When not carving +she was eternally either taking a pin out of her head or her body, or +else putting a pin into her head or her body. To display her teeth, +she laughed indifferently at gay or grave; and from ear to ear. And +she "sat at ease" with her mouth ajar.</p> + +<p>Now there is an animal in creation of no great general merit; +but it has the eye of a hawk for affectation. It is called "a boy." +And Gerard was but a boy still in some things; swift to see, and to +loathe, affectation. So Denys sat casting sheep's eyes, and Gerard, +daggers, at one comedian.</p> + +<p>Presently, in the midst of her minauderies, she gave a loud shriek +and bounded out of her chair like hare from form, and ran backwards +out of the room uttering little screams, and holding her +farthingale tight down to her ankles with both hands. And, as she +scuttled out of the door, a mouse scuttled back to the wainscot in +a state of equal, and perhaps more reasonable, terror. The guests, +who had risen in anxiety at the principal yell, now stood irresolute +awhile, then sat down laughing. The tender Denys, to whom a +woman's cowardice, being a sexual trait, seemed a lovely and pleasant +thing, said he would go comfort her and bring her back.</p> + +<p>"Nay! nay! nay! for pity's sake let her bide," cried Gerard earnestly. +"Oh blessed mouse! sure some saint sent thee to our aid."</p> + +<p>Now at his right hand sat a sturdy middle-aged burgher, whose +conduct up to date had been cynical. He had never budged, nor +even rested his knife, at all this fracas. He now turned on Gerard +and inquired haughtily whether he really thought that "grimacière" +was afraid of a mouse.</p> + +<p>"Ay. She screamed hearty."</p> + +<p>"Where is the coquette that cannot scream to the life? These +she tavern-keepers do still ape the nobles. Some princess or duchess +hath lain here a night, that was honestly afeared of a mouse, having +been brought up to it. And this ape hath seen her, and said, 'I +will start at a mouse, and make a coil.' She has no more right +to start at a mouse, than to wear that fur on her bosom, and that +velvet on her monkey's head. I am of the town, young man, and +have known the mijaurée all her life, and I mind when she was no +more afeard of a mouse than she is of a man." He added that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +was fast emptying the inn with these "singeries." "All the world +is so sick of her hands, that her very kinsfolk will not venture themselves +anigh them." He concluded with something like a sigh, +"The 'Tête d'Or' was a thriving hostelry under my old chum her +good father; but she is digging its grave tooth and nail."</p> + +<p>"Tooth and nail? good! a right merry conceit and a true," said +Gerard. But the right merry conceit was an inadvertence as pure +as snow, and the stout burgher went to his grave and never knew +what he had done: for just then attention was attracted by Denys +returning pompously. He inspected the apartment minutely, and +with a high official air: he also looked solemnly under the table; +and during the whole inquisition a white hand was placed conspicuously +on the edge of the open door, and a tremulous voice inquired +behind it whether the horrid thing was quite gone.</p> + +<p>"The enemy has retreated, bag and baggage," said Denys: and +handed in the trembling fair, who, sitting down, apologized to her +guests for her foolish fears, with so much earnestness, grace, and +seeming self-contempt, that, but for a sour grin on his neighbour's +face, Gerard would have been taken in as all the other strangers +were. Dinner ended, the young landlady begged an Augustine friar +at her right hand to say grace. He delivered a longish one. The +moment he began, she clapped her white hands piously together, +and held them up joined for mortals to admire; 'tis an excellent +pose for taper white fingers; and cast her eyes upward towards +heaven, and felt as thankful to it as a magpie does while cutting off +with your thimble.</p> + +<p>After supper the two friends went to the street-door and eyed the +market-place. The mistress joined them, and pointed out the town +hall, the borough jail, St. Catherine's church, &c. This was courteous, +to say the least. But the true cause soon revealed itself; +the fair hand was poked right under their eyes every time an object +was indicated; and Gerard eyed it like a basilisk, and longed for +a bunch of nettles. The sun set, and the travellers, few in number, +drew round the great roaring fire, and, omitting to go on the spit, +were frozen behind though roasted in front. For if the German +stoves were oppressively hot, the French salles à manger were +bitterly cold, and above all stormy. In Germany men sat bareheaded +round the stove, and took off their upper clothes, but in +Burgundy they kept on their hats, and put on their warmest furs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +to sit round the great open chimney-places, at which the external +air rushed furiously from door and ill-fitting window. However +it seems their mediæval backs were broad enough to bear it: for +they made themselves not only comfortable but merry, and broke +harmless jests over each other in turn. For instance Denys's new +shoes, though not in direct communication, had this day exploded +with twin-like sympathy and unanimity. "Where do you buy +your shoon, soldier?" asked one.</p> + +<p>Denys looked askant at Gerard, and not liking the theme, shook +it off. "I gather 'em off the trees by the road-side," said he surlily.</p> + +<p>"Then you gathered these too ripe," said the hostess, who was +only a fool externally.</p> + +<p>"Ay, rotten ripe," observed another, inspecting them.</p> + +<p>Gerard said nothing, but pointed the circular satire by pantomime. +He slily put out both his feet, one after another, under +Denys's eye, with their German shoes, on which a hundred leagues +of travel had produced no effect. They seemed hewn out of a rock.</p> + +<p>At this "I'll twist the smooth varlet's neck that sold me mine," +shouted Denys, in huge wrath, and confirmed the threat with singular +oaths peculiar to the mediæval military. The landlady put her +fingers in her ears, thereby exhibiting the hand in a fresh attitude. +"Tell me when he has done his orisons, somebody," said she mincingly. +And after that they fell to telling stories.</p> + +<p>Gerard, when his turn came, told the adventure of Denys and +Gerard at the inn in Domfront, and so well, that the hearers were +rapt into sweet oblivion of the very existence of mijaurée and +hands. But this made her very uneasy, and she had recourse to her +grand coup. This misdirected genius had for a twelvemonth past +practised yawning, and could do it now at any moment so naturally +as to set all creation gaping, could all creation have seen her. By +this means she got in all her charms. For first she showed her teeth, +then, out of good breeding, you know, closed her mouth with three +taper fingers. So the moment Gerard's story got too interesting +and absorbing, she turned to and made yawns, and "croix sur la +bouche."</p> + +<p>This was all very fine: but Gerard was an artist, and artists are +chilled by gaping auditors. He bore up against the yawns a long +time: but finding they came from a bottomless reservoir, lost both +heart and temper, and suddenly rising in mid narrative, said, "But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> +I weary our hostess, and I am tired myself: so good night!" whipped +a candle off the dresser, whispered Denys, "I cannot stand her," and +marched to bed in a moment.</p> + +<p>The mijaurée coloured and bit her lips. She had not intended +her by-play for Gerard's eye: and she saw in a moment she had been +rude, and silly, and publicly rebuked. She sat with cheek on fire, +and a little natural water in her eyes, and looked ten times comelier +and more womanly, and interesting than she had done all day. +The desertion of the best narrator broke up the party, and the unassuming +Denys approached the meditating mijaurée, and invited +her in the most flattering terms, to gamble with him. She started +from her reverie, looked him down into the earth's centre with chilling +dignity, and consented, for she remembered all in a moment what +a show of hands gambling admitted.</p> + +<p>The soldier and the mijaurée rattled the dice. In which sport +she was so taken up with her hands, that she forgot to cheat, +and Denys won "écu au soleil" of her. She fumbled slowly with +her purse, partly because her sex do not burn to pay debts of honour: +partly to admire the play of her little knuckles peeping between +their soft white cushions. Denys proposed a compromise. "Three +silver franks I win of you, fair hostess. Give me now three kisses +of this white hand, and we'll e'en cry quits."</p> + +<p>"You are malapert," said the lady with a toss of her head; "besides +they are so dirty. See! they are like ink:" and, to convince +him, she put them out to him and turned them up and down. They +were no dirtier than cream fresh from the cow. And she knew it: +she was eternally washing and scenting them.</p> + +<p>Denys read the objection like the observant warrior he was, seized +them and mumbled them.</p> + +<p>Finding him so appreciative of her charm, she said timidly, "Will +you do me a kindness, good soldier?"</p> + +<p>"A thousand, fair hostess an you will."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I ask but one. 'Tis to tell thy comrade I was right sorry +to lose his most thrilling story, and I hope he will tell me the rest +to-morrow morning. Meantime I shall not sleep for thinking on't. +Wilt tell him that—to pleasure me?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, I'll tell the young savage. But he is not worthy of your +condescension, sweet hostess. He would rather be aside a man +than a woman any day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span></p> + +<p>"So would—ahem. He is right: the young women of the day +are not worthy of <i>him</i>, 'un tas des mijaurées.' He has a good, +honest, and right comely face. Any way I would not guest of mine +should think me unmannerly, not for all the world. Wilt keep +faith with me and tell him?"</p> + +<p>"On this fair hand I swear it: and thus I seal the pledge."</p> + +<p>"There; no need to melt the wax, though. Now go to bed. And +tell him ere you sleep."</p> + +<p>The perverse toad (I thank thee, Marion, for teaching me that +word) was inclined to bestow her slight affections upon Gerard. +Not that she was inflammable: far less so than many that passed for +prudes in the town. But Gerard possessed a triple attraction that +has ensnared coquettes in all ages. 1. He was very handsome. 2. +He did not admire her the least. 3. He had given her a good slap +in the face.</p> + +<p>Denys woke Gerard and gave the message. Gerard was +not enchanted. "Dost wake a tired man to tell him that? Am I +to be pestered with 'mijaurées' by night as well as day?"</p> + +<p>"But I tell thee, novice, thou hast conquered her: trust to my +experience: her voice sank to melodious whispers: and the cunning +jade did in a manner bribe me to carry thee her challenge to Love's +lists: for so I read her message."</p> + +<p>Denys then, assuming the senior and the man of the world, told +Gerard the time was come to show him how a soldier understood +friendship and camaraderie. Italy was now out of the question. +Fate had provided better; and the blind jade Fortune had smiled +on merit for once. The "Head of Gold" had been a prosperous +inn, would be again with a man at <i>its</i> head. A good general laid +far-sighted plans; but was always ready to abandon them, should +some brilliant advantage offer; and to reap the full harvest of the +unforeseen: 'twas chiefly by this trait great leaders defeated little +ones; for these latter could do nothing not cut and dried beforehand.</p> + +<p>"Sorry friendship, that would marry me to a mijaurée," interposed +Gerard yawning.</p> + +<p>"Comrade, be reasonable; 'tis not the friskiest sheep that falls +down the cliff. All creatures must have their flings soon, or late; +and why not a woman? What more frivolous than a kitten? what +graver than a cat?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hast a good eye for nature, Denys," said Gerard, "that I proclaim."</p> + +<p>"A better for thine interest, boy. Trust then to me; these little +doves they are my study day and night; happy the man whose wife +taketh her fling before wedlock; and trippeth up the altar-steps +instead of down 'em. Marriage it always changeth them for better +or else for worse. Why, Gerard, she is honest when all is done: +and he is no man, nor half a man, that cannot mould any honest lass +like a bit of warm wax, and she aye aside him at bed and board. I +tell thee in one month thou wilt make of this coquette the matron the +most sober in the town, and of all its wives the one most docile, and +submissive. Why she is half tamed already. Nine in ten meek +and mild ones had gently hated thee like poison all their lives, for +wounding of their hidden pride. But she for an affront proffers +affection. By Joshua his bugle a generous lass, and void of petty +malice. When thou wast gone she sat a thinking and spoke not. +A sure sign of love in one of her sex: for of all things else they speak +ere they think. Also her voice did sink exceedingly low in discoursing +of thee, and murmured sweetly; another infallible sign. The +bolt hath struck and wrankles in her; oh be joyful! Art silent? +I see; 'tis settled. I shall go alone to Remiremont, alone and sad. +But, pillage and poleaxes! what care I for that, since my dear comrade +will stay here, landlord of the 'Tête d'Or,' and safe from all +storms of life? Wilt think of me, Gerard, now and then by thy +warm fire, of me camped on some windy heath, or lying in wet +trenches or wounded on the field and far from comfort? Nay" (and +this he said in a manner truly noble), "not comfortless. For cold, +or wet, or bleeding, 'twill still warm my heart to lie on my back +and think that I have placed my dear friend, and comrade true, in +the 'Tête d'Or,' far from a soldier's ills."</p> + +<p>"I let you run on, dear Denys," said Gerard softly, "because at +each word you show me the treasure of a good heart. But now bethink +thee, my troth is plighted there where my heart it clingeth. +You so leal, would you make me disloyal?"</p> + +<p>"Perdition seize me, but I forgot that," said Denys.</p> + +<p>"No more then, but hie thee to bed, good Denys. Next to +Margaret I love thee best on earth, and value thy 'cœur d'or' far +more than a dozen of these 'Têtes d'Or.' So prithee call me at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +first blush of rosy-fingered morn, and let's away ere the woman with +the hands be stirring."</p> + +<p>They rose with the dawn, and broke their fast by the kitchen fire.</p> + +<p>Denys inquired of the girl whether the mistress was about.</p> + +<p>"Nay: but she hath risen from her bed: by the same token I am +carrying her this to clean her withal;" and she filled a mug with boiling +water and took it upstairs.</p> + +<p>"Behold," said Gerard, "the very elements must be warmed to +suit her skin; what had the saints said, which still chose the coldest +pool? Away, ere she come down and catch us."</p> + +<p>They paid the score, and left the "Tête d'Or," while its mistress +was washing her hands.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>OUTSIDE the town they found the snow fresh trampled by +innumerable wolves every foot of the road.</div> + +<p>"We did well to take the old man's advice Denys."</p> + +<p>"Ay did we. For now I think on't I did hear them last night +a-scurrying under our window and howling and whining for man's +flesh in yon market-place. But no fat burgher did pity the poor +vagabones, and drop out o' window."</p> + +<p>Gerard smiled, but with an air of abstraction.</p> + +<p>And they plodded on in silence.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"What dost meditate so profoundly?"</p> + +<p>"Thy goodness."</p> + +<p>Denys was anything but pleased at this answer. Amongst his +oddities you may have observed that he could stand a great deal of +real impertinence, he was so good-humoured. But would fire up +now and then where not even the shadow of a ground for anger +existed.</p> + +<p>"A civil question merits a civil reply," said he very drily.</p> + +<p>"Alas, I meant no other," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Then why pretend you were thinking of my goodness, when you +know I have no goodness under my skin."</p> + +<p>"Had another said this, I had answered 'thou liest.' But to thee<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +I say: 'hast no eye for men's qualities, but only for women's.' +And, once more, I do defy thy unreasonable choler, and say I was +thinking of thy goodness of overnight. Wouldst have wedded me +to the 'Tête d'Or,' or rather to the 'tête de veau dorée,' and left thyself +solitary."</p> + +<p>"Oh, are ye there, lad?" said Denys recovering his good-humour +in a moment. "Well, but to speak sooth, I meant that not for goodness; +but for friendship and true fellowship, no more. And let +me tell you, my young master, my conscience it pricketh me even +now for letting you turn your back thus on fortune and peaceful +days. A truer friend than I had ta'en and somewhat hamstrung +thee. Then hadst thou been fain to lie smarting at the 'Tête d'Or' +a month or so: yon skittish lass had nursed thee tenderly, and all had +been well. Blade I had in hand to do't, but, remembering how thou +hatest pain though it be but a scratch, my craven heart it failed me +at the pinch." And Denys wore a look of humble apology for his +lack of virtuous resolution when the path of duty lay so clear.</p> + +<p>Gerard raised his eyebrows with astonishment at this monstrous +but thoroughly characteristic revelation; however this new and delicate +point of friendship was never discussed; viz., whether one ought +in all love to cut the tendon Achilles of one's friend. For an incident +interposed.</p> + +<p>"Here cometh one in our rear a-riding on his neighbour's mule," +shouted Denys.</p> + +<p>Gerard turned round. "And how know ye 'tis not his own, pray?"</p> + +<p>"Oh blind! Because he rides it with no discretion."</p> + +<p>And in truth the man came galloping like a fury. But what +astonished the friends most was that on reaching them the rustic +rider's eyes opened saucer-like, and he drew the rein so suddenly and +powerfully, that the mule stuck out her fore legs, and went sliding +between the pedestrians like a four-legged table on casters.</p> + +<p>"I trow ye are from the 'Tête d'Or.'" They assented. "Which +of ye is the younger?"</p> + +<p>"He that was born the later," said Denys winking at his companion.</p> + +<p>"Gramercy for the news."</p> + +<p>"Come, divine then!"</p> + +<p>"And shall. Thy beard is ripe; thy fellow's is green; he shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +be the younger; here, youngster." And he held him out a paper +packet. "Ye left this at the 'Tête d'Or': and our mistress sends it +ye."</p> + +<p>"Nay, good fellow, methinks I left nought." And Gerard felt +his pouch, etc.</p> + +<p>"Would ye make our burgess a liar," said the rustic reproachfully: +"and shall I have no pourboire?" (still more reproachfully); "and +came ventre à terre."</p> + +<p>"Nay, thou shalt have pourboire," and he gave him a small coin.</p> + +<p>"A la bonne heure," cried the clown, and his feature beamed +with disproportionate joy. "The Virgin go with ye; come up, +Jenny!" and back he went "stomach to earth," as his nation is +pleased to call it.</p> + +<p>Gerard undid the packet: it was about six inches square, and +inside it he found another packet, which contained a packet, and so +on. At the fourth he hurled the whole thing into the snow. Denys +took it out and rebuked his petulance. He excused himself on the +ground of hating affectation.</p> + +<p>Denys attested "'The great toe of the little daughter of Herodias' +there was no affectation here, but only woman's good wit. Doubtless +the wraps contained something which out of delicacy, or her +sex's lovely cunning, she would not her hind should see her bestow on +a young man; thy garter, to wit."</p> + +<p>"I wear none."</p> + +<p>"Her own then; or a lock of her hair. What is this? A piece +of raw silk fresh from the worm. Well of all the love tokens!"</p> + +<p>"Now who but thee ever dreamed that she is so naught as send me +love tokens? I saw no harm in her—barring her hands."</p> + +<p>"Stay, here is something hard lurking in this soft nest. Come +forth I say, little nestling! Saints and pikestaves! look at this!"</p> + +<p>It was a gold ring, with a great amethyst glowing and sparkling, +full coloured, but pure as crystal.</p> + +<p>"How lovely!" said Gerard, innocently.</p> + +<p>"And here is something writ: read it thou! I read not so glib as +some; when I know not the matter beforehand."</p> + +<p>Gerard took the paper. "'Tis a posy: and fairly enough writ." +He read the lines, blushing like a girl. They were very naïve, and +may be thus Englished:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span>—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Youth, with thee my heart is fledde,<br /> +Come back to the 'golden Hedde!'<br /> +Wilt not? yet this token keepe<br /> +Of her whŏ d[=oe]th thy goeing weepe.<br /> +Gyf the world prove harsh and cold,<br /> +Come back to 'the Hedde of gold.'"<br /> +</div> + +<p>"The little dove!" purred Denys.</p> + +<p>"The great owl! To go and risk her good name thus. However, +thank Heaven she has played this prank with an honest lad +that will ne'er expose her folly. But oh, the perverseness! Could +she not bestow her nauseousness on thee?" Denys sighed and +shrugged. "On thee that art as ripe for folly as herself?"</p> + +<p>Denys confessed that his young friend had harped his very +thought. 'Twas passing strange to him that a damsel with eyes in +her head should pass by a man, and bestow her affections on a boy. +Still he could not but recognize in this the bounty of Nature. Boys +were human beings after all, and, but for this occasional caprice +of women, their lot would be too terrible; they would be out of the +sun altogether, blighted, and never come to anything: since only the +fair could make a man out of such unpromising materials as a boy. +Gerard interrupted this flattering discourse to beg the warrior-philosopher's +acceptance of the lady's ring. He refused it flatly, and insisted +on Gerard going back to the "Tête d'Or" at once, ring and all, +like a man, and not letting a poor girl hold out her arms to him in +vain.</p> + +<p>"Her hands you mean."</p> + +<p>"Her hand, with the 'Tête d'Or' in it."</p> + +<p>Failing in this he was for putting the ring on his friend's finger. +Gerard declined. "I wear a ring already."</p> + +<p>"What that sorry gimcrack? Why 'tis pewter, or tin at best: and +this virgin gold, forbye the jewel."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but 'twas Margaret gave me this one: and I value it above +rubies. I'll neither part with it nor give it a rival:" and he kissed +the base metal, and bade it fear nought.</p> + +<p>"I see the owl hath sent her ring to a goose," said Denys, sorrowfully. +However he prevailed on Gerard to fasten it inside his bonnet. +To this indeed the lad consented very readily. For sovereign +qualities were universally ascribed to certain jewels; and the amethyst +ranked high among these precious talismans.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> + +<p>When this was disposed of, Gerard earnestly requested his friend +to let the matter drop, since speaking of the other sex to him made +him pine so for Margaret, and almost unmanned him with the +thought that each step was taking him farther from her. "I am +no general lover, Denys. There is room in my heart for one sweetheart, +and for one friend. I am far from my dear mistress: and +my friend, a few leagues more and I must lose him too. Oh let me +drink thy friendship pure while I may, and not dilute with any +of these stupid females."</p> + +<p>"And shalt, honey-pot, and shalt," said Denys, kindly. "But as +to my leaving thee at Remiremont, reckon thou not on that! For" +(three consecutive oaths) "if I do. Nay, I shall propose to thee to +stay forty-eight hours there while I kiss my mother and sisters, +and the females generally, and on go you and I together to the sea."</p> + +<p>"Denys! Denys!"</p> + +<p>"Denys not me! 'Tis settled. Gainsay me not! or I'll go with +thee to Rome. Why not? his holiness the Pope hath ever some little +merry pleasant war toward, and a Burgundian soldier is still welcome +in his ranks."</p> + +<p>On this Gerard opened his heart. "Denys, ere I fell in with +thee, I used often to halt on the road, unable to go farther: my puny +heart so pulled me back: and then, after a short prayer to the saints +for aid, would I rise and drag my most unwilling body onward. But +since I joined company with thee, great is my courage. I have found +the saying of the ancients true, that better is a bright comrade on +the weary road than a horse litter; and, dear brother, when I do +think of what we have done and suffered together! Savedst my +life from the bear, and from yet more savage thieves; and even poor +I did make shift to draw thee out of Rhine, and somehow loved thee +double from that hour. How many ties tender and strong between +us! Had I my will, I'd never, never, never, never, part with my +Denys on this side the grave. Well-a-day! God his will be done."</p> + +<p>"No, my will shall be done this time," shouted Denys. "Le bon +Dieu has bigger fish to fry than you or me. I'll go with thee to +Rome. There is my hand on it."</p> + +<p>"Think what you say! 'Tis impossible. 'Tis too selfish of me."</p> + +<p>"I tell thee, 'tis settled. No power can change me. At Remiremont +I borrow ten pieces of my uncle, and on we go: 'tis fixed; irrevocable +as fate."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span></p> + +<p>They shook hands over it. Then Gerard said nothing, for his +heart was too full: but he ran twice round his companion as he +walked, then danced backwards in front of him, and finally took +his hand, and so on they went hand-in-hand like sweethearts, till a +company of mounted soldiers, about fifty in number, rose to sight +on the brow of a hill.</p> + +<p>"See the banner of Burgundy," said Denys, joyfully. "I shall +look out for a comrade among these."</p> + +<p>"How gorgeous is the standard in the sun," said Gerard; "and +how brave are the leaders with velvet and feathers, and steel breastplates +like glassy mirrors!"</p> + +<p>When they came near enough to distinguish faces, Denys uttered +an exclamation: "Why 'tis the Bastard of Burgundy, as I live. +Nay, then; there is fighting a foot since he is out; a gallant leader, +Gerard, rates his life no higher than a private soldier's, and a soldier's +no higher than a tomtit's; and that is the captain for me."</p> + +<p>"And see Denys, the very mules with their great brass frontlets +and trappings seem proud to carry them; no wonder men itch to be +soldiers;" and in the midst of this innocent admiration the troop +came up with them.</p> + +<p>"Halt," cried a stentorian voice. The troop halted. The Bastard +of Burgundy bent his brow gloomily on Denys: "How now, arbalestrier, +how comes it thy face is turned southward, when every good +hand and heart is hurrying northward?"</p> + +<p>Denys replied respectfully that he was going on leave, after some +years of service, to see his kindred at Remiremont.</p> + +<p>"Good. But this not the time for't, the duchy is disturbed. Ho! +bring that dead soldier's mule to the front; and thou mount her and +forward with us to Flanders."</p> + +<p>"So please your highness," said Denys, firmly, "that may not +be. My home is close at hand. I have not seen it these three years +and, above all, I have this poor youth in charge; whom I may not, +cannot leave, till I see him shipped for Rome."</p> + +<p>"Dost bandy words with me?" said the chief, with amazement +turning fast to wrath. "Art weary o' thy life? Let go the +youth's hand, and into the saddle without more idle words."</p> + +<p>Denys made no reply: but he held Gerard's hand the tighter, +and looked defiance.</p> + +<p>At this the bastard roared, "Jarnac, dismount six of thy archers,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +and shoot me this whitelivered cur dead where he stands—for an +example."</p> + +<p>The young Count de Jarnac, second in command, gave the order, +and the men dismounted to execute it.</p> + +<p>"Strip him naked," said the bastard, in the cold tone of military +business, "and put his arms and accoutrements on the spare mule. +We'll may be find some clown worthier to wear them."</p> + +<p>Denys groaned aloud, "Am I to be shamed as well as slain?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nay! nay! nay!" cried Gerard, awaking from the stupor +into which this thunderbolt of tyranny had thrown him. "He shall +go with you on the instant. I'd liever part with him for ever than +see a hair of his dear head harmed. Oh sir, oh, my lord, give a poor +boy but a minute to bid his only friend farewell! he will go with +you. I swear he shall go with you."</p> + +<p>The stern leader nodded a cold contemptuous assent. "Thou, +Jarnac, stay with them, and bring him on alive or dead.—Forward!" +And he resumed his march, followed by all the band but the young +count and six archers, one of whom held the spare mule.</p> + +<p>Denys and Gerard gazed at one another haggardly. Oh! what a +look!</p> + +<p>And after this mute interchange of anguish, they spoke hurriedly, +for the moments were flying by.</p> + +<p>"Thou goest to Holland: thou knowest where she bides. Tell her +all. She will be kind to thee for my sake."</p> + +<p>"Oh, sorry tale that I shall carry her! For God's sake go back +to the 'Tête d'Or.' I am mad."</p> + +<p>"Hush! Let me think: have I nought to say to thee, Denys? my +head! my head!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! I have it. Make for the Rhine, Gerard! Strasbourg. +'Tis but a step. And down the current to Rotterdam. Margaret is +there: I go thither. I'll tell her thou art coming. We shall all be +together."</p> + +<p>"My lads, haste ye, or you will get us into trouble," said the count +firmly, but not harshly now.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, one moment! one little moment!" panted Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Cursed be the land I was born in; cursed be the race of man; and +he that made them what they are," screamed Denys.</p> +<div class="figright" style="width: 415px;"> +<img src="images/illus199.jpg" width="415" height="600" alt="THE CONSTANT LOVER LAY SILENT ON THE SNOW" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE CONSTANT LOVER LAY SILENT ON THE SNOW</span> +</div> +<p>"Hush! Denys, hush! blaspheme not! oh, God, forgive him, he +wots not what he says. Be patient, Denys,—be patient! though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +we meet no more on earth, let us meet in a better world, where no +blasphemer may enter. To my heart, lost friend; for what are +words now?" He held out his arms, and they locked one another +in a close embrace. They kissed one another again and again, +speechless, and the tears rained down their cheeks. And the Count +Jarnac looked on amazed, but the rougher soldiers, to whom comrade +was a sacred name, looked on with some pity in their hard +faces. Then at a signal from Jarnac, with kind force and words of +rude consolation, they almost lifted Denys on to the mule; and putting +him in the middle of them, spurred after their leader. And +Gerard ran wildly after (for the lane turned), to see the very last +of him; and the last glimpse he caught, Denys was rocking to and +fro on his mule, and tearing his hair out. But at this sight something +rose in Gerard's throat so high, so high, he could run no +more nor breathe, but gasped, and leaned against the snow-clad hedge, +seizing it, and choking piteously.</p> + + + +<p>The thorns ran into his hand.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>After a bitter struggle he got his breath again: and now began to +see his own misfortune. Yet not all at once to realize it, so sudden +and numbing was the stroke. He staggered on, but scarce feeling +or caring whither he was going: and every now and then he stopped, +and his arms fell and his head sank on his chest: and he stood motionless: +then he said to himself, "Can this thing be? This must +be a dream. 'Tis scarce five minutes since we were so happy, walking +handed, faring to Rome together, and we admired them and +their gay banners and helmets—oh hearts of hell!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>All nature seemed to stare now as lonely as himself. Not a creature +in sight. No colour but white. He, the ghost of his former +self, wandered alone among the ghosts of trees, and fields, and hedges. +Desolate! desolate! desolate! All was desolate.</p> + +<p>He knelt and gathered a little snow. "Nay, I dream not; for +this is snow: cold as the world's heart. It is bloody, too: what may +that mean? Fool! 'tis from thy hand. I mind not the wound. +Ay, I see: thorns. Welcome! kindly foes: I felt ye not, ye ran not +into my heart. Ye are not cruel like men."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>He had risen, and was dragging his leaden limbs along, when he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +heard horses' feet and gay voices behind him. He turned with a +joyful but wild hope that the soldiers had relented and were bringing +Denys back. But no: it was a gay cavalcade. A gentleman of +rank and his favourites in velvet and furs and feathers; and four +or five armed retainers in buff jerkins.</p> + +<p>They swept gaily by.</p> + +<p>Gerard never looked at them after they were gone by: certain +gay shadows had come and passed: that was all. He was like one +in a dream. But he was rudely wakened: suddenly a voice in front +of him cried harshly, "Stand and deliver!" and there were three +of the gentleman's servants in front of him. They had ridden back +to rob him.</p> + +<p>"How, ye false knaves," said he quite calmly: "would ye shame +your noble master? He will hang ye to the nearest tree:" and with +these words he drew his sword doggedly, and set his back to the +hedge.</p> + +<p>One of the men instantly levelled his petronel at him.</p> + +<p>But another, less sanguinary, interposed. "Be not so hasty! +And be not thou so mad! Look yonder!"</p> + +<p>Gerard looked, and scarce a hundred yards off the nobleman and +his friends had halted, and sat on their horses, looking at the +lawless act, too proud to do their own dirty work, but not too proud +to reap the fruit, and watch lest their agents should rob them of +another man's money.</p> + +<p>The milder servant then, a good-natured fellow, showed Gerard +resistance was vain; reminded him common thieves often took the +life as well as the purse, and assured him it cost a mint to be a gentleman; +his master had lost money at play overnight, and was going to +visit his leman, and so must take money where he saw it.</p> + +<p>"Therefore, good youth, consider that we rob not for ourselves, +and deliver us that fat purse at thy girdle without more ado, nor put +us to the pain of slitting thy throat and taking it all the same."</p> + +<p>"This knave is right," said Gerard calmly, aloud but to himself. +"I ought not to fling away my life; Margaret would be so sorry. +Take then the poor man's purse to the rich man's pouch; and with +it this; tell him, I pray the Holy Trinity each coin in it may burn +his hand, and freeze his heart, and blast his soul for ever. Begone +and leave me to my sorrow!" He flung them the purse.</p> + +<p>They rode away muttering; for his words pricked them a little; a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +very little: and he staggered on, penniless now as well as friendless, +till he came to the edge of a wood. Then, though his heart could +hardly feel this second blow, his judgment did; and he began to ask +himself what was the use going further? He sat down on the hard +road, and ran his nails into his hair and tried to think for the best; +a task all the more difficult that a strange drowsiness was stealing +over him. Rome he could never reach without money. Denys +had said "go to Strasbourg, and down the Rhine home." He would +obey Denys. But how get to Strasbourg without money?</p> + +<p>Then suddenly seemed to ring in his ears—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Gyf the world prove harsh and cold,<br /> +Come back to the hedde of gold."<br /> +</div> + +<p>"And if I do I must go as her servant; I who am Margaret's. I +am a-weary, a-weary. I will sleep, and dream all is as it was. Ah +me, how happy were we an hour agone, we little knew how happy. +There is a house: the owner well to do. What if I told him my +wrong, and prayed his aid to retrieve my purse, and so to Rhine? +Fool! is he not a man, like the rest? He would scorn me and +trample me lower. Denys cursed the race of men. That will I +never: but oh, I 'gin to loathe and dread them. Nay, here will I +lie till sunset: then darkling creep into this rich man's barn, and +take by stealth a draught of milk or a handful o' grain, to keep +body and soul together. God, who hath seen the rich rob me, will +peradventure forgive me. They say 'tis ill sleeping on the snow. +Death steals on such sleepers with muffled feet and honey breath. +But what can I? I am a-weary, a-weary. Shall this be the wood +where lie the wolves yon old man spoke of? I must e'en trust +them: they are not men; and I am so a-weary."</p> + +<p>He crawled to the road-side, and stretched out his limbs on the +snow, with a deep sigh.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"Ah tear not thine hair so! teareth my heart to see thee.<br /> +"Mar—garet. Never see me more. Poor Mar—ga—ret."<br /> +</div> + +<p>And the too tender heart was still.</p> + +<p>And the constant lover, and friend of antique mould, lay silent +on the snow; in peril from the weather, in peril from wild beasts, +in peril from hunger, friendless and penniless, in a strange land, +and not half way to Rome.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>RUDE travel is enticing to us English. And so are its records; +even though the adventurer be no pilgrim of love. +And antique friendship has at least the interest of a fossil. +Still, as the true centre of this story is in Holland, it is full time +to return thither, and to those ordinary personages and incidents, +whereof life has been mainly composed in all ages.</div> + +<p>Jorian Ketel came to Peter's house to claim Margaret's promise; +but Margaret was ill in bed, and Peter, on hearing his errand, affronted +him and warned him off the premises, and one or two that +stood by were for ducking him; for both father and daughter were +favourites, and the whole story was in every mouth, and the Sevenbergens +in that state of hot, undiscriminating, irritation which accompanies +popular sympathy.</p> + +<p>So Jorian Ketel went off in dudgeon, and repented him of his +good deed. This sort of penitence is not rare, and has the merit of +being sincere. Dierich Brower, who was discovered at "The Three +Kings," making a chatterbox drunk in order to worm out of him the +whereabouts of Martin Wittenhaagen, was actually taken and flung +into a horse-pond, and threatened with worse usage, should he ever +show his face in the burgh again; and finally, municipal jealousy +being roused, the burgomaster of Sevenbergen sent a formal missive +to the burgomaster of Tergou, reminding him he had overstepped +the law, and requesting him to apply to the authorities of Sevenbergen +on any future occasion when he might have a complaint, real +or imaginary, against any of its townsfolk.</p> + +<p>The wily Ghysbrecht, suppressing his rage at this remonstrance, +sent back a civil message to say that the person he had followed to +Sevenbergen was a Tergovan, one Gerard, and that he had stolen the +town records: that Gerard having escaped into foreign parts, and +probably taken the documents with him, the whole matter was at +an end.</p> + +<p>Thus he made a virtue of necessity. But in reality his calmness +was but a veil: baffled at Sevenbergen, he turned his views elsewhere; +he set his emissaries to learn from the family at Tergou whither +Gerard had fled, and "to his infinite surprise" they did not know.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +This added to his uneasiness. It made him fear Gerard was only +lurking in the neighborhood: he would make a certain discovery, +and would come back and take a terrible revenge. From this time +Dierich and others that were about him noticed a change for the +worse in Ghysbrecht Van Swieten. He became a moody, irritable +man. A dread lay on him. His eyes cast furtive glances, like one +who expects a blow, and knows not from what quarter it is to come. +Making others wretched had not made him happy. It seldom +does.</p> + +<p>The little family at Tergou, which, but for his violent interference, +might in time have cemented its difference without banishing spem +gregis to a distant land, wore still the same outward features, but +within was no longer the simple happy family this tale opened with. +Little Kate knew the share Cornelis and Sybrandt had in banishing +Gerard, and though, for fear of making more mischief still, she +never told her mother, yet there were times she shuddered at the bare +sight of them, and blushed at their hypocritical regrets. Catherine, +with a woman's vigilance, noticed this, and with a woman's subtlety +said nothing, but quietly pondered it, and went on watching for +more. The black sheep themselves, in their efforts to partake in the +general gloom and sorrow, succeeded so far as to impose upon their +father and Giles: but the demure satisfaction that lay at their bottom +could not escape these feminine eyes—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"That, noting all, seem'd nought to note."<br /> +</div> + +<p>Thus mistrust and suspicion sat at the table, poor substitutes for +Gerard's intelligent face, that had brightened the whole circle, unobserved +till it was gone. As for the old hosier, his pride had been +wounded by his son's disobedience, and so he bore stiffly up, and did +his best never to mention Gerard's name; but underneath his Spartan +cloak Nature might be seen tugging at his heartstrings. One anxiety +he never affected to conceal. "If I but knew where the boy is, +and that his life and health are in no danger, small would be my +care," would he say; and then a deep sigh would follow. I cannot +help thinking that if Gerard had opened the door just then, and +walked in, there would have been many tears and embraces for him, +and few reproaches, or none.</p> + +<p>One thing took the old couple quite by surprise—publicity. Ere +Gerard had been gone a week, his adventures were in every mouth;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +and, to make matters worse, the popular sympathy declared itself +warmly on the side of the lovers, and against Gerard's cruel parents, +and that old busy-body the burgomaster, "who must put his nose into +a business that nowise concerned him."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Mother," said Kate, "it is all over the town that Margaret is +down with a fever—a burning fever; her father fears her sadly."</p> + +<p>"Margaret? what Margaret?" inquired Catherine, with a treacherous +assumption of calmness and indifference.</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother! whom should I mean? Why Gerard's Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Gerard's Margaret," screamed Catherine; "how dare you say +such a word to me? And I rede you never mention that hussy's +name in this house, that she has laid bare. She is the ruin of +my poor boy, the flower of all my flock. She is the cause that he +is not a holy priest in the midst of us, but is roaming the world, +and I a desolate broken-hearted mother. There, do not cry, my +girl, I do ill to speak harsh to you. But, oh, Kate! you know not +what passes in a mother's heart. I bear up before you all; it behoves +me swallow my fears: but at night I see him in my dreams +and still some trouble or other near him: sometimes he is torn by +wild beasts; other times he is in the hands of robbers, and their +cruel knives uplifted to strike his poor pale face, that one should +think would move a stone. Oh! when I remember that, while I sit +here in comfort, perhaps my poor boy lies dead in some savage place: +and all along of that girl: there, her very name is ratsbane to me. +I tremble all over when I hear it."</p> + +<p>"I'll not say anything, nor do anything to grieve you worse, +mother," said Kate tenderly; but she sighed.</p> + +<p>She whose name was so fiercely interdicted in this house, was much +spoken of, and even pitied, elsewhere. All Sevenbergen was sorry +for her, and the young men and maidens cast many a pitying glance, +as they passed, at the little window where the beauty of the village +lay "dying for love." In this familiar phrase they underrated her +spirit and unselfishness. Gerard was not dead, and she was too +loyal herself to doubt his constancy. Her father was dear to her +and helpless; and, but for bodily weakness, all her love for Gerard +would not have kept her from doing her duties, though she might +have gone about them with drooping head and heavy heart. But +physical and mental excitement had brought on an attack of fever so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +violent, that nothing but youth and constitution saved her. The +malady left her at last, but in that terrible state of bodily weakness +in which the patient feels life a burden.</p> + +<p>Then it is that love and friendship by the bedside are mortal +angels with comfort in their voices, and healing in their palms.</p> + +<p>But this poor girl had to come back to life and vigour how she +could. Many days she lay alone, and the heavy hours rolled like +leaden waves over her. In her enfeebled state existence seemed a +burden, and life a thing gone by. She could not try her best to get +well. Gerard was gone. She had not him to get well for. Often +she lay for hours quite still, with the tears welling gently out of +her eyes.</p> + +<p>One day, waking from an uneasy slumber, she found two women +in her room. One was a servant, the other by the deep fur on her +collar and sleeves was a person of consideration: a narrow band of +silvery hair, being spared by her coiffure, showed her to be past the +age when women of sense conceal their years. The looks of both +were kind and friendly. Margaret tried to raise herself in the bed, +but the old lady placed a hand very gently on her.</p> + +<p>"Lie still, sweetheart; we come not here to put you about, but to +comfort you, God willing. Now cheer up a bit, and tell us, first, +who think you we are?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, madam, I know you, though I never saw you before: you +are the demoiselle Van Eyck, and this is Reicht Heynes. Gerard +has oft spoken of you, and of your goodness to him. Madam, he has +no friend like you near him now," and at this thought she lay back +and the tears welled out of her eyes in a moment.</p> + +<p>The good-natured Reicht Heynes began to cry for company; but +her mistress scolded her. "Well, you are a pretty one for a sick-room," +said she: and she put out a world of innocent art to cheer +the patient: and not without some little success. An old woman, +that has seen life and all its troubles, is a sovereign blessing by a +sorrowful young woman's side. She knows what to say, and what +to avoid. She knows how to soothe her and interest her. Ere she +had been there a hour, she had Margaret's head lying on her shoulder +instead of on the pillow, and Margaret's soft eyes dwelling on her +with gentle gratitude.</p> + +<p>"Ah! this is hair," said the old lady, running her fingers through +it. "Come and look at it, Reicht!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span></p> + +<p>Reicht came and handled it, and praised it unaffectedly. The +poor girl that owned it was not quite out of the reach of flattery; +owning doubtless to not being dead.</p> + +<p>"In sooth, madam, I did use to think it hideous: but <i>he</i> praised it, +and ever since then I have been almost vain of it, saints forgive me. +You know how foolish those are that love."</p> + +<p>"They are greater fools that don't," said the old lady, sharply.</p> + +<p>Margaret opened her lovely eyes, and looked at her for her meaning.</p> + +<p>This was only the first of many visits. In fact either Margaret +Van Eyck or Reicht came nearly every day until their patient was +convalescent: and she improved rapidly under their hands. Reicht +attributed this principally to certain nourishing dishes she prepared +in Peter's kitchen: but Margaret herself thought more of the kind +words and eyes that kept telling her she had friends to live for.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Martin Wittenhaagen went straight to Rotterdam, to take the +bull by the horns. The bull was a biped, with a crown for horns. +It was Philip the Good, duke of this, earl of that, lord of the other. +Arrived at Rotterdam, Martin found the court was at Ghent. To +Ghent he went, and sought an audience, but was put off and baffled +by lacqueys and pages. So he threw himself in his sovereign's way +out hunting, and, contrary to all court precedents, commenced the +conversation—by roaring rustily for mercy.</p> + +<p>"Why, where is the peril, man?" said the duke, looking all round +and laughing.</p> + +<p>"Grace for an old soldier hunted down by burghers!"</p> + +<p>Now kings differ in character like other folk; but there is one +trait they have in common; they are mightily inclined to be affable +to men of very low estate. These do not vie with them in anything +whatever, so jealousy cannot creep in; and they amuse them by +their bluntness and novelty, and refresh the poor things with a touch +of nature—a rarity in courts. So Philip the Good reined in his +horse and gave Martin almost a <i>tête-à-tête</i>, and Martin reminded him +of a certain battle-field where he had received an arrow intended for +his sovereign. The duke remembered the incident perfectly, and was +graciously pleased to take a cheerful view of it. He could afford to, +not having been the one hit. Then Martin told his majesty of +Gerard's first capture in the church, his imprisonment in the tower,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +and the manœuvre by which they got him out, and all the details of +the hunt; and, whether he told it better than I have, or the duke had +not heard so many good stories as you have, certain it is that sovereign +got so wrapt up in it, that, when a number of courtiers came +galloping up and interrupted Martin, he swore like a costermonger, +and threatened, only half in jest, to cut off the next head that should +come between him and a good story: and when Martin had done, he +cried out:—</p> + +<p>"St. Luke! what sport goeth on in this mine earldom, ay! in my +own woods, and I see it not. You base fellows have all the luck." +And he was indignant at the partiality of Fortune. "Lo you now! +this was a man-hunt," said he. "<i>I</i> never had the luck to be at a +man-hunt."</p> + +<p>"My luck was none so great," replied Martin bluntly; "I was +on the wrong side of the dogs' noses."</p> + +<p>"Ah! so you were: I forgot that." And royalty was more reconciled +to its lot. "What would you then?"</p> + +<p>"A free pardon, your highness, for myself and Gerard."</p> + +<p>"For what?"</p> + +<p>"For prison-breaking."</p> + +<p>"Go to: the bird will fly from the cage. 'Tis instinct. Besides, +coop a young man up for loving a young woman? These burgomasters +must be void of common sense. What else?"</p> + +<p>"For striking down the burgomaster."</p> + +<p>"Oh, the hunted boar will turn to bay. 'Tis his right: and I +hold him less than man that grudges it him. What else?"</p> + +<p>"For killing of the bloodhounds."</p> + +<p>The duke's countenance fell.</p> + +<p>"'Twas their life or mine," said Martin eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Ay! but I can't have my bloodhounds, my beautiful bloodhounds, +sacrificed to——"</p> + +<p>"No, no, no! They were not your dogs."</p> + +<p>"Whose dogs, then?"</p> + +<p>"The ranger's."</p> + +<p>"Oh. Well, I am very sorry for him, but, as I was saying, I +can't have my old soldiers sacrificed to his bloodhounds. Thou shalt +have thy free pardon."</p> + +<p>"And poor Gerard."</p> + +<p>"And poor Gerard too, for thy sake. And more, tell thou this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +burgomaster his doings mislike me: this is to set up for a king, not +a burgomaster. I'll have no kings in Holland but one. Bid him be +more humble: or by St. Jude I'll hang him before his own door, as I +hanged the burgomaster of what's the name, some town or other in +Flanders it was: no, 'twas somewhere in Brabant—no matter—I +hanged him, I remember that much—for oppressing poor folk."</p> + +<p>The duke then beckoned his chancellor, a pursy old fellow that +rode like a sack, and bade him write out a free pardon for Martin +and one Gerard.</p> + +<p>This precious document was drawn up in form, and signed next +day, and Martin hastened home with it.</p> + +<p>Margaret had left her bed some days, and was sitting pale and +pensive by the fireside, when he burst in, waving the parchment, +and crying, "A free pardon, girl, for Gerard as well as me! Send +for him back when you will; all the burgomasters on earth daren't +lay a finger on him."</p> + +<p>She flushed all over with joy, and her hands trembled with eagerness +as she took the parchment and devoured it with her eyes, and +kissed it again and again, and flung her arms round Martin's neck, +and kissed <i>him</i>. When she was calmer, she told him Heaven had +raised her up a friend in the dame Van Eyck. "And I would +fain consult her on this good news: but I have not strength to walk +so far."</p> + +<p>"What need to walk? There is my mule."</p> + +<p>"Your mule, Martin?"</p> + +<p>The old soldier or professional pillager laughed, and confessed he +had got so used to her, that he forgot at times Ghysbrecht had a prior +claim. To-morrow he would turn her into the burgomaster's yard, +but to-night she should carry Margaret to Tergou.</p> + +<p>It was nearly dusk; so Margaret ventured, and about seven in +the evening she astonished and gladdened her new but ardent friend, +by arriving at her house with unwonted roses on her cheeks, and +Gerard's pardon in her bosom.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XL</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>SOME are old in heart at forty, some are young at eighty. +Margaret Van Eyck's heart was an evergreen. She loved +her young namesake with youthful ardour. Nor was this new +sentiment a mere caprice: she was quick at reading character, and +saw in Margaret Brandt that which in one of her own sex goes far +with an intelligent woman; genuineness. But, besides her own +sterling qualities, Margaret had from the first a potent ally in the old +artist's bosom.</div> + +<p>Human nature.</p> + +<p>Strange as it may appear to the unobservant, our hearts warm +more readily to those we have benefited than to our benefactors. +Some of the Greek philosophers noticed this; but the British Homer +has stamped it in immortal lines:—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"I heard, and thought how side by side<br /> +We two had stemmed the battle's tide<br /> +In many a well-debated field,<br /> +Where Bertram's breast was Philip's shield.<br /> +I thought on Darien's deserts pale,<br /> +Where Death bestrides the evening gale,<br /> +How o'er my friend my cloak I threw,<br /> +And fenceless faced the deadly dew.<br /> +I thought on Quariana's cliff,<br /> +Where, rescued from our foundering skiff,<br /> +Through the white breakers' wrath I bore<br /> +Exhausted Mortram to the shore;<br /> +And when his side an arrow found,<br /> +I sucked the Indian's venom'd wound.<br /> +These thoughts like torrents rushed along<br /> +To sweep away my purpose strong."<br /> +</div> + +<p>Observe! this assassin's hand is stayed by memory, not of benefits +received, but benefits conferred.</p> + +<p>Now Margaret Van Eyck had been wonderfully kind to Margaret +Brandt; had broken through her own habits to go and see her; had +nursed her, and soothed her, and petted her, and cured her more +than all the medicine in the world. So her heart opened to the recipient +of her goodness, and she loved her now far more tenderly than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +she had ever loved Gerard, though, in truth, it was purely out of +regard for Gerard she had visited her in the first instance.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, she saw the roses on Margaret's cheek, and read +the bit of parchment that had brought them there, she gave up her +own views without a murmur.</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart," said she, "I did desire he should stay in Italy five +or six years, and come back rich, and, above all, an artist. But your +happiness is before all, and I see you cannot live without him, so +we must have him home as fast as may be."</p> + +<p>"Ah, madam! you see my very thoughts." And the young woman +hung her head a moment and blushed. "But how to let him know, +madam? That passes my skill. He is gone to Italy; but what +part, that I know not. Stay! he named the cities he should visit. +Florence was one, and Rome. But then—"</p> + +<p>Finally, being a sensible girl, she divined that a letter, addressed +"My Gerard—Italy," might chance to miscarry, and she looked +imploringly at her friend for counsel.</p> + +<p>"You are come to the right place, and at the right time," said the +old lady. "Here was this Hans Memling with me to-day; he is going +to Italy, girl, no later than next week, 'to improve his hand,' +he says. Not before 'twas needed, I do assure you."</p> + +<p>"But how is he to find my Gerard?"</p> + +<p>"Why, he knows your Gerard, child. They have supped here +more than once, and were like hand and glove. Now, as his business +is the same as Gerard's—"</p> + +<p>"What! he is a painter then?"</p> + +<p>"He passes for one. He will visit the same places as Gerard, and, +soon or late, he must fall in with him. Wherefore, get you a long +letter written, and copy out this pardon into it, and I'll answer +for the messenger. In six months at farthest Gerard shall get it; +and when he shall get it, then will he kiss it, and put it in his bosom, +and come flying home. What are you smiling at? And now what +makes your cheeks so red? And what you are smothering me for, +I cannot think. Yes! happy days are coming to my little pearl."</p> + +<p>Meantime, Martin sat in the kitchen, with the black-jack before +him and Reicht Heynes spinning beside him: and, wow! but she +pumped him that night.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>This Hans Memling was an old pupil of Jan Van Eyck and his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +sister. He was a painter, notwithstanding Margaret's sneer, and +a good soul enough, with one fault. He loved the "nipperkin, canakin, +and the brown bowl" more than they deserve. This singular +penchant kept him from amassing fortune, and was the cause that he +often came to Margaret Van Eyck for a meal, and sometimes for a +groat. But this gave her a claim on him, and she knew he would +not trifle with any commission she should intrust to him.</p> + +<p>The letter was duly written, and left with Margaret Van Eyck; +and, the following week, sure enough, Hans Memling returned from +Flanders. Margaret Van Eyck gave him the letter, and a piece of +gold towards his travelling expenses. He seemed in a hurry to be +off.</p> + +<p>"All the better," said the old artist; "he will be the sooner in +Italy."</p> + +<p>But as there are horses who burn and rage to start, and after +the first yard or two want the whip, so all this hurry cooled into inaction +when Hans got as far as the principal hostelry of Tergou, +and saw two of his boon companions sitting in the bay window. He +went in for a parting glass with them; but when he offered to pay, +they would not hear of it. No; he was going a long journey; they +would treat him; everybody must treat him, the landlord and all.</p> + +<p>It resulted from this treatment that his tongue got as loose as if +the wine had been oil; and he confided to the convivial crew that he +was going to show the Italians how to paint: next he sang his +exploits in battle, for he had handled a pike; and his amorous successes +with females, not present to oppose their version of the incidents. +In short, "plenus rimarum erat: huc illuc diffluebat:" and +among the miscellaneous matters that oozed out, he must blab that he +was intrusted with a letter to a townsman of theirs, one Gerard, +a good fellow: he added "you are all good fellows:" and, to impress +his eulogy, slapped Sybrandt on the back so heartily, as to drive +the breath out of his body.</p> + +<p>Sybrandt got round the table to avoid this muscular approval; but +listened to every word, and learned for the first time that Gerard +was gone to Italy. However, to make sure, he affected to doubt it.</p> + +<p>"My brother Gerard is never in Italy."</p> + +<p>"Ye lie, ye cur," roared Hans, taking instantly the irascible turn, +and not being clear enough to see that he, who now sat opposite him, +was the same he had praised, and hit, when beside him. "If he is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +ten times your brother, he is in Italy. What call ye this? There, +read me that superscription!" and he flung down a letter on the table.</p> + +<p>Sybrandt took it up, and examined it gravely; but eventually +laid it down, with the remark, that he could not read. However +one of the company, by some immense fortuity, could read; and, +proud of so rare an accomplishment, took it, and read it out: "To +Gerard Eliassoen, of Tergou. These by the hand of the trusty +Hans Memling, with all speed."</p> + +<p>"'Tis excellently well writ," said the reader, examining every +letter.</p> + +<p>"Ay!" said Hans bombastically "and small wonder: 'tis writ by a +famous hand; by Margaret, sister of Jan Van Eyck. Blessed and +honoured be his memory! She is an old friend of mine, is +Margaret Van Eyck."</p> + +<p>Miscellaneous Hans then diverged into forty topics.</p> + +<p>Sybrandt stole out of the company, and went in search of Cornelis.</p> + +<p>They put their heads together over the news: Italy was an immense +distance off. If they could only keep him there?</p> + +<p>"Keep him there? Nothing would keep him long from his +Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Curse her!" said Sybrandt. "Why didn't she die when she was +about it?"</p> + +<p>"<i>She</i> die? She would outlive the pest to vex us." And Cornelis +was wroth at her selfishness in not dying, to oblige.</p> + +<p>These two black sheep kept putting their heads together, and +tainting each other worse and worse, till at last their corrupt hearts +conceived a plan for keeping Gerard in Italy all his life, and so securing +his share of their father's substance.</p> + +<p>But when they had planned it they were no nearer the execution; +for that required talent: so iniquity came to a standstill. But +presently, as if Satan had come between the two heads, and whispered +into the right ear of one and the left of the other simultaneously, +they both burst out</p> + +<p>"THE BURGOMASTER!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>They went to Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, and he received them at +once: for the man who is under the torture of suspense catches eagerly +at knowledge. Certainty is often painful, but seldom, like +suspense, intolerable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You have news of Gerard?" said he eagerly.</p> + +<p>Then they told about the letter and Hans Memling. He listened +with restless eye. "Who writ the letter?"</p> + +<p>"Margaret Van Eyck," was the reply: for they naturally thought +the contents were by the same hand as the superscription.</p> + +<p>"Are ye sure?" And he went to a drawer and drew out a paper +written by Margaret Van Eyck while treating with the burgh for +her house. "Was it writ like this?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. 'Tis the same writing," said Sybrandt, boldly.</p> + +<p>"Good. And now what would ye of me?" said Ghysbrecht, with +beating heart, but a carelessness so well feigned that it staggered +them. They fumbled with their bonnets, and stammered and spoke +a word or two, then hesitated and beat about the bush, and let out by +degrees that they wanted a letter written, to say something that might +keep Gerard in Italy: and this letter they proposed to substitute +in Hans Memling's wallet for the one he carried. While these +fumbled with their bonnets and their iniquity, and vacillated between +respect for a burgomaster, and suspicion that this one was as great +rogue as themselves, and, somehow or other, on their side against +Gerard, pros and cons were coursing one another to and fro in the +keen old man's spirit. Vengeance said let Gerard come back and +feel the weight of the law. Prudence said keep him a thousand +miles off. But then prudence said also, why do dirty work on a +doubtful chance? Why put it in the power of these two +rogues to tarnish your name? Finally, his strong persuasion that +Gerard was in possession of a secret by means of which he could +wound him to the quick, coupled with his caution, found words +thus: "It is my duty to aid the citizens that cannot write. But +for their matter I will not be responsible. Tell me, then, what I +shall write."</p> + +<p>"Something about this Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay! that she is false, that she is married to another, I'll go +bail."</p> + +<p>"Nay, burgomaster, nay! not for all the world!" cried Sybrandt; +"Gerard would not believe it, or but half, and then he would come +back to see. No; say that she is dead."</p> + +<p>"Dead! what at her age? will he credit that?"</p> + +<p>"Sooner than the other. Why she <i>was nearly</i> dead; so it is not +to say a downright lie, after all."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Humph? And you think that will keep him in Italy?"</p> + +<p>"We are sure of it, are we not, Cornelis?"</p> + +<p>"Ay," said Cornelis, "our Gerard will never leave Italy now he is +there. It was always his dream to get there. He would come back +for his Margaret, but not for us. What cares he for us? He despises +his own family; always did."</p> + +<p>"This would be a bitter pill to him," said the old hypocrite. "It +will be for his good in the end," replied the young one.</p> + +<p>"What avails Famine wedding Thirst?" said Cornelis.</p> + +<p>"And the grief you are preparing for him so coolly?" Ghysbrecht +spoke sarcastically, but tasted his own vengeance all the time.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a lie is not like a blow with a curtal axe. It hacks no flesh, +and breaks no bones."</p> + +<p>"A curtal axe?" said Sybrandt; "no, nor even like a stroke with +a cudgel." And he shot a sly envenomed glance at the burgomaster's +broken nose.</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht's face darkened with ire when this adder's tongue +struck his wound. But it told, as intended: the old man bristled +with hate.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "tell me what to write for you, and I must write +it: but, take notice, you bear the blame if aught turns amiss. Not +the hand which writes, but the tongue which dictates, doth the deed."</p> + +<p>The brothers assented warmly, sneering within. Ghysbrecht then +drew his inkhorn towards him, and laid the specimen of Margaret +Van Eyck's writing before him, and made some inquiries as to the +size and shape of the letter; when an unlooked-for interruption occurred; +Jorian Ketel burst hastily into the room, and looked vexed +at not finding him alone.</p> + +<p>"Thou seest I have matter on hand, good fellow."</p> + +<p>"Ay; but this is grave. I bring good news; but 'tis not for every +ear."</p> + +<p>The burgomaster rose, and drew Jorian aside into the embrasure of +his deep window, and then the brothers heard them converse in low +but eager tones. It ended by Ghysbrecht sending Jorian out to saddle +his mule. He then addressed the black sheep with a sudden +coldness that amazed them:</p> + +<p>"I prize the peace of households; but this is not a thing to be done +in a hurry: we will see about, we will see."</p> + +<p>"But, burgomaster, the man will be gone. It will be too late."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"At the hostelry, drinking."</p> + +<p>"Well, keep him drinking! We will see, we will see." And +he sent them off discomfited.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>To explain all this we must retrograde a step. This very morning +then, Margaret Brandt had met Jorian Ketel near her own door. +He passed her with a scowl. This struck her, and she remembered +him.</p> + +<p>"Stay," said she. "Yes! it is the good man who saved him. Oh! +why have you not been near me since? And why have you not +come for the parchments? Was it not true about the hundred +crowns?"</p> + +<p>Jorian gave a snort: but, seeing her face that looked so candid, +began to think there might be some mistake. He told her he had +come, and how he had been received.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" said she, "I knew nought of this. I lay at death's door." +She then invited him to follow her, and took him into the garden and +showed him the spot where the parchments were buried. "Martin +was for taking them up, but I would not let him. <i>He</i> put them +there: and I said none should move them but you, who had earned +them so well of him and me."</p> + +<p>"Give me a spade!" cried Jorian, eagerly. "But stay! No; he +is a suspicious man. You are sure they are there still?"</p> + +<p>"I will openly take the blame if human hand hath touched them."</p> + +<p>"Then keep them but two hours more, I prithee, good Margaret," +said Jorian, and ran off to the Stadthouse of Tergou a joyful man.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The burgomaster jogged along towards Sevenbergen, with Jorian +striding beside him, giving him assurance that in an hour's time +the missing parchments would be in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Ah, master!" said he, "lucky for us it wasn't a thief that took +them."</p> + +<p>"Not a thief? not a thief? what call you him, then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, saving your presence, I call him a jackdaw. This is jackdaw's +work, if ever there was; 'take the thing you are least in need +of, and hide it'—that's a jackdaw. I should know," added Jorian, +oracularly, "for I was brought up along with a chough. He and I +were born the same year, but he cut his teeth long before me, and,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +wow! but my life was a burden for years all along of him. If you +had but a hole in your hose no bigger than a groat, in went his +beak like a gimlet; and, for stealing, Gerard all over. What he +wanted least, and any poor Christian wanted most, that went first. +Mother was a notable woman, so, if she did but look round, away +flew her thimble. Father lived by cordwaining, so about sunrise +Jack went diligently off with his awl, his wax, and his twine. After +that, make your bread how you could! One day I heard my mother +tell him to his face he was enough to corrupt half a dozen other +children; and he only cocked his eye at her, and next minute away +with the nurseling shoe off his very foot. Now this Gerard is +tarred with the same stick. The parchments are no more use to +him than a thimble or an awl to Jack. He took 'em out of pure mischief +and hid them, and you would never have found them but for +me."</p> + +<p>"I believe you are right," said Ghysbrecht, "and I have vexed +myself more than need."</p> + +<p>When they came to Peter's gate he felt uneasy.</p> + +<p>"I wish it had been anywhere but here."</p> + +<p>Jorian reassured him.</p> + +<p>"The girl is honest and friendly," said he. "She had nothing +to do with taking them, I'll be sworn:" and he led him into the +garden. "There, master, if a face is to be believed, here they lie; +and, see, the mould <i>is</i> loose."</p> + +<p>He ran for a spade which was stuck up in the ground at some distance, +and soon went to work and uncovered a parchment. Ghysbrecht +saw it and thrust him aside and went down on his knees and +tore it out of the hole. His hands trembled and his face shone. +He threw out parchment after parchment, and Jorian dusted them +and cleaned them and shook them. Now, when Ghysbrecht had +thrown out a great many, his face began to darken and lengthen, +and, when he came to the last, he put his hands to his temples and +seemed to be all amazed.</p> + +<p>"What mystery lies here?" he gasped. "Are fiends mocking me? +Dig deeper! There <i>must</i> be another."</p> + +<p>Jorian drove the spade in and threw out quantities of hard +mould. In vain. And even while he dug, his master's mood had +changed.</p> + +<p>"Treason! treachery!" he cried. "You knew of this."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Knew what, master, in Heaven's name?"</p> + +<p>"Caitiff, you knew there was another one worth all these twice +told."</p> + +<p>"'Tis false," cried Jorian, made suspicious by the other's suspicion. +"'Tis a trick to rob me of my hundred crowns. Oh! I +know you, burgomaster." And Jorian was ready to whimper.</p> + +<p>A mellow voice fell on them both like oil upon the waves. "No, +good man, it is not false, nor yet is it quite true: there was another +parchment."</p> + +<p>"There, there, there! Where is it?"</p> + +<p>"But," continued Margaret calmly, "it was not a town record +(so you have gained your hundred crowns, good man): it was +but a private deed between the burgomaster here and my grandfather +Flor——"</p> + +<p>"Hush, hush!"</p> + +<p>"—is Brandt."</p> + +<p>"Where is it, girl? that is all we want to know."</p> + +<p>"Have patience, and I shall tell you." Gerard read the title of +it, and he said, "This is as much yours as the burgomaster's," +and he put it apart, to read it with me at his leisure."</p> + +<p>"It is in the house, then?" said the burgomaster, recovering his +calmness.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," said Margaret, bravely, "it is not." Then, in a voice +that faltered suddenly, "You hunted—my poor Gerard—so hard—and +so close—that you gave him—no time—to think of aught—but +his life—and his grief.—The parchment was in his bosom, and +he hath ta'en it with him."</p> + +<p>"Whither, whither?"</p> + +<p>"Ask me no more, sir. What right is yours to question me thus? +It was for <i>your</i> sake, good man, I put force upon my heart, and +came out here, and bore to speak at all to this hard old man. For, +when I think of the misery he has brought on <i>him</i> and me, the sight +of him is more than I can bear:" and she gave an involuntary shudder, +and went slowly in, with her hand to her head, crying bitterly.</p> + +<p>Remorse for the past, and dread of the future—the slow, but, as +he now felt, the inevitable future—avarice, and fear, all tugged in +one short moment at Ghysbrecht's tough heart. He hung his head, +and his arms fell listless by his sides. A coarse chuckle made him +start round, and there stood Martin Wittenhaagen leaning on his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +bow, and sneering from ear to ear. At sight of the man and his +grinning face, Ghysbrecht's worst passions awoke.</p> + +<p>"Ho! attach him, seize him, traitor and thief!" cried he. "Dog, +thou shalt pay for all."</p> + +<p>Martin, without a word, calmly thrust the duke's pardon under +Ghysbrecht's nose. He looked, and had not a word to say. Martin +followed up his advantage.</p> + +<p>"The duke and I are soldiers. He won't let you greasy burghers +trample on an old comrade. He bade me carry you a message too."</p> + +<p>"The duke send a message to me?"</p> + +<p>"Ay! I told him of your masterful doings, of your imprisoning +Gerard for loving a girl; and says he, 'Tell him this is to be a +king, not a burgomaster. I'll have no kings in Holland but one. +Bid him be more humble, or I'll hang him at his own door'" +(Ghysbrecht trembled. He thought the duke capable of the deed) +"'as I hanged the burgomaster of Thingembob.' The duke could +not mind which of you he had hung, or in what part; such trifles +stick not in a soldier's memory, but he was sure he had hanged one +of you for grinding poor folk, 'and I'm the man to hang another,' +quoth the good duke."</p> + +<p>These repeated insults from so mean a man, coupled with his invulnerability, +shielded as he was by the duke, drove the choleric +old man into a fit of impotent fury: he shook his fist at the soldier, +and tried to threaten him, but could not speak for the rage and mortification +that choked him: then he gave a sort of screech, and coiled +himself up in eye and form like a rattle-snake about to strike; and +spat furiously upon Martin's doublet.</p> + +<p>The thick-skinned soldier treated this ebullition with genuine +contempt. "Here's a venomous old toad! he knows a kick from +this foot would send him to his last home; and he wants me to cheat +the gallows. But I have slain too many men in fair fight to lift +limb against anything less than a man: and this I count no man; +what is it, in Heaven's name? an old goat's-skin bag full o' rotten +bones."</p> + +<p>"My mule! my mule!" screamed Ghysbrecht.</p> + +<p>Jorian helped the old man up trembling in every joint. Once in +the saddle, he seemed to gather in a moment unnatural vigour; and +the figure that went flying to Tergou was truly weirdlike and terrible: +so old and wizened the face; so white and reverend the streaming<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> +hair; so baleful the eye; so fierce the fury which shook the bent +frame that went spurring like mad; while the quavering voice +yelled, "I'll make their hearts ache.—I'll make their hearts ache.—I'll +make their hearts ache.—I'll make their hearts ache. All of +them. All!—all!—all!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The black sheep sat disconsolate amidst the convivial crew, and +eyed Hans Memling's wallet. For more ease he had taken it off, +and flung it on the table. How readily they could have slipped +out that letter and put in another. For the first time in their lives +they were sorry they had not learned to write, like their brother.</p> + +<p>And now Hans began to talk of going, and the brothers agreed in +a whisper to abandon their project for the time. They had scarcely +resolved this, when Dierich Brower stood suddenly in the doorway, +and gave them a wink.</p> + +<p>They went out to him. "Come to the burgomaster with all speed," +said he.</p> + +<p>They found Ghysbrecht seated at a table, pale and agitated. Before +him lay Margaret Van Eyck's handwriting. "I have written +what you desired," said he. "Now for the superscription. What +were the words? did ye see?"</p> + +<p>"We cannot read," said Cornelis.</p> + +<p>"Then is all this labour lost," cried Ghysbrecht angrily. "Dolts!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, but," said Sybrandt, "I heard the words read, and I have +not lost them. They were, 'To Gerard Eliassoen, these by the hand +of the trusty Hans Memling with all speed.'"</p> + +<p>"'Tis well. Now, how was the letter folded? how big was it?"</p> + +<p>"Longer than that one, and not so long as this."</p> + +<p>"'Tis well. Where is he?"</p> + +<p>"At the hostelry."</p> + +<p>"Come, then, take you this groat, and treat him. Then ask to +see the letter, and put this in place of it. Come to me with the other +letter."</p> + +<p>The brothers assented, took the letter, and went to the hostelry.</p> + +<p>They had not been gone a minute, when Dierich Brower issued +from the Stadthouse, and followed them. He had his orders not to +let them out of his sight till the true letter was in his master's hands. +He watched outside the hostelry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span></p> + +<p>He had not long to wait. They came out almost immediately, +with downcast looks. Dierich made up to them.</p> + +<p>"Too late!" they cried; "too late! He is gone."</p> + +<p>"Gone? How long?"</p> + +<p>"Scarce five minutes. Cursed chance!"</p> + +<p>"You must go back to the burgomaster at once," said Dierich +Brower.</p> + +<p>"To what end?"</p> + +<p>"No matter; come:" and he hurried them to the Stadthouse.</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht Van Swieten was not the man to accept a defeat. +"Well," said he, on hearing the ill news, "suppose he is gone. Is +he mounted?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Then what hinders you to come up with him?"</p> + +<p>"But what avails coming up with him? there are no hostelries +on the road he is gone."</p> + +<p>"Fools!" said Ghysbrecht, "is there no way of emptying a man's +pockets but liquor and sleight of hand?"</p> + +<p>A meaning look, that passed between Ghysbrecht and Dierich, +aided the brothers' comprehension. They changed colour, and lost +all zeal for the business.</p> + +<p>"No! no! we don't hate our brother. We won't get ourselves +hanged to spite him," said Sybrandt; "that would be a fool's trick."</p> + +<p>"Hanged?" cried Ghysbrecht. "Am I not the burgomaster? +How can ye be hanged? I see how 'tis: ye fear to tackle one man, +being two: hearts of hare, that ye are! O! why cannot I be young +again? I'd do it single-handed."</p> + +<p>The old man now threw off all disguise, and showed them his +heart was in this deed. He then flattered and besought, and jeered +them alternately, but he found no eloquence could move them to +an action, however dishonourable, which was attended with danger. +At last he opened a drawer, and showed them a pile of silver coins.</p> + +<p>"Change but those letters for me," he said, "and each of you shall +thrust one hand into this drawer, and take away as many of them +as you can hold."</p> + +<p>The effect was magical. Their eyes glittered with desire. Their +whole bodies seemed to swell, and rise into male energy.</p> + +<p>"Swear it, then," said Sybrandt.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I swear it."</p> + +<p>"No; on the crucifix."</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht swore upon the crucifix.</p> + +<p>The next minute the brothers were on the road, in pursuit of +Hans Memling. They came in sight of him about two leagues +from Tergou: but though they knew he had no weapon but his staff, +they were too prudent to venture on him in daylight; so they fell +back.</p> + +<p>But being now three leagues and more from the town, and on a +grassy road,—sun down, moon not yet up,—honest Hans suddenly +found himself attacked before and behind at once by men with uplifted +knives, who cried in loud though somewhat shaky voices, +"Stand and deliver!"</p> + +<p>The attack was so sudden, and so well planned, that Hans was +dismayed. "Slay me not, good fellows," he cried: "I am but a poor +man, and ye shall have my all."</p> + +<p>"So be it then. Live! But empty thy wallet."</p> + +<p>"There is nought in my wallet, good friends, but one letter."</p> + +<p>"That we shall see," said Sybrandt, who was the one in front. +"Well: it is a letter."</p> + +<p>"Take it not from me, I pray you. 'Tis worth nought, and the +good dame would fret that writ it."</p> + +<p>"There," said Sybrandt, "take back thy letter: and now empty +thy pouch. Come! tarry not!"</p> + +<p>But by this time Hans had recovered his confusion: and, from a +certain flutter in Sybrandt, and hard breathing of Cornelis, aided +by an indescribable consciousness, felt sure the pair he had to deal +with were no heroes. He pretended to fumble for his money: then +suddenly thrust his staff fiercely into Sybrandt's face, and drove +him staggering, and lent Cornelis a back-handed slash on the ear +that sent him twirling like a weather-cock in March: then whirled +his weapon over his head and danced about the road like a figure +on springs, shouting "Come on, ye thieving loons! Come on!"</p> + +<p>It was a plain invitation: yet they misunderstood it so utterly as +to take to their heels, with Hans after them, he shouting "Stop +thieves!" and they howling with fear and pain as they ran.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>DENYS, placed in the middle of his companions, lest he +should be so mad as attempt escape, was carried off in an +agony of grief and remorse. For his sake Gerard had +abandoned the German route to Rome; and what was his reward? +left all alone in the centre of Burgundy. This was the thought +which maddened Denys most, and made him now rave at heaven +and earth, now fall into a gloomy silence so savage and sinister that +it was deemed prudent to disarm him. They caught up their leader +just outside the town, and the whole cavalcade drew up and baited +at the "Tête d'Or."</div> + +<p>The young landlady, though much occupied with the count, and +still more with the Bastard, caught sight of Denys, and asked him +somewhat anxiously what had become of his young companion?</p> + +<p>Denys, with a burst of grief, told her all, and prayed her to send +after Gerard. "Now he is parted from me, he will maybe listen to +my rede," said he; "poor wretch he loves not solitude."</p> + +<p>The landlady gave a toss of her head. "I trow I have been somewhat +over-kind already," said she, and turned rather red.</p> + +<p>"You will not?"</p> + +<p>"Not I."</p> + +<p>"Then,"—and he poured a volley of curses and abuse upon her.</p> + +<p>She turned her back upon him, and went off whimpering, and +saying she was not used to be cursed at; and ordered her hind to +saddle two mules.</p> + +<p>Denys went north with his troop, mute and drooping over his +saddle, and, quite unknown to him, that veracious young lady made +an equestrian toilet in only forty minutes, she being really in a +hurry, and spurred away with her servant in the opposite direction.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>At dark, after a long march, the Bastard and his men reached +"the White Hart;" their arrival caused a prodigious bustle, and it +was some time before Manon discovered her old friend among so +many. When she did, she showed it only by heightened colour. +She did not claim the acquaintance. The poor soul was already +beginning to scorn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span>.</p> + +<div class='center'> +"The base degrees by which she did ascend."<br /> +</div> + +<p>Denys saw, but could not smile. The inn reminded him too much +of Gerard.</p> + +<p>Ere the night closed the wind changed. She looked into the room +and beckoned him with her finger. He rose sulkily, and his guards +with him.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I would speak a word to thee in private." She drew him +to a corner of the room, and there asked him under her breath, would +he do her a kindness.</p> + +<p>He answered out loud, "No, he would not, he was not in the vein +to do kindnesses to man or woman. If he did a kindness it should +be to a dog: and not that if he could help it."</p> + +<p>"Alas, good archer, I did you one eftsoons, you and your pretty +comrade," said Manon, humbly.</p> + +<p>"You did, dame, you did; well then, for his sake—what is't to +do?"</p> + +<p>"Thou knowest my story. I had been unfortunate. Now I am +worshipful. But a woman did cast him in my teeth this day. And +so 'twill be ever while he hangs there. I would have him ta'en +down; well-a-day!"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart."</p> + +<p>"And none dare I ask but thee. Wilt do't?"</p> + +<p>"Not I, even were I not a prisoner."</p> + +<p>On this stern refusal the tender Manon sighed, and clasped her +palms together despondently. Denys told her she need not fret. +There were soldiers of a lower stamp, who would not make two bites +of such a cherry. It was a mere matter of money; if she could +find two angels, he would find two soldiers to do the dirty work of +the "White Hart."</p> + +<p>This was not very palatable. However, reflecting that soldiers +were birds of passage, drinking here to-night, knocked on the head +there to-morrow, she said, softly, "Send them out to me. But +prithee, tell them that 'tis for one that is my friend; let them not +think 'tis for me. I should sink into th' earth; times are changed."</p> + +<p>Denys found warriors glad to win an angel apiece so easily. He +sent them out, and instantly dismissing the subject with contempt, +sat brooding on his lost friend.</p> + +<p>Manon and the warriors soon came to a general understanding.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> +But what were they to do with the body when taken down? She +murmured, "The river is nigh the—the—place."</p> + +<p>"Fling him in, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; be not so cruel! Could ye not put him—gently—in—with +somewhat weighty?"</p> + +<p>She must have been thinking on the subject in detail; for she +was not one to whom ideas came quickly.</p> + +<p>All was speedily agreed, except the time of payment. The mail-clad +itched for it, and sought it in advance. Manon demurred to +that.</p> + +<p>What, did she doubt their word? then let her come along with +them, or watch them at a distance.</p> + +<p>"Me?" said Manon, with horror. "I would liever die than see it +done."</p> + +<p>"Which yet you would have done."</p> + +<p>"Ay, for sore is my need. Times are changed." She had already +forgotten her precept to Denys.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>An hour later the disagreeable relic of caterpillar existence ceased +to canker the worshipful matron's public life, and the grim eyes of +the past to cast malignant glances down into a white hind's clover +field.</p> + +<p>Total. She made the landlord an average wife, and a prime +house-dog, and outlived everybody.</p> + +<p>Her troops, when they returned from executing with mediæval +naïveté the precept "Off wi' the auld love," received a shock. They +found the market-place black with groups; it had been empty an +hour ago. Conscience smote them. This came of meddling with +the dead. However, the bolder of the two, encouraged by the darkness, +stole forward alone, and slily mingled with a group: he soon +returned to his companion, saying, in a tone of reproach not strictly +reasonable,</p> + +<p>"Ye born fool, it is only a miracle."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>LETTERS of fire on the church wall had just inquired, with +an appearance of genuine curiosity, why there was no mass +for the duke in this time of trouble. The supernatural +expostulation had been seen by many, and had gradually faded, +leaving the spectators glued there gaping. The upshot was, that +the corporation, not choosing to be behind the angelic powers in +loyalty to a temporal sovereign, invested freely in masses. By +this an old friend of ours, the curé, profited in hard cash; for +which he had a very pretty taste. But for this I would not of +course have detained you over so trite an occurrence as a miracle.</div> + +<p>Denys begged for his arms, "Why disgrace him as well as break +his heart?"</p> + +<p>"Then swear on the cross of thy sword not to leave the Bastard's +service until the sedition shall be put down." He yielded to necessity, +and delivered three volleys of oaths, and recovered his arms +and liberty.</p> + +<p>The troops halted at "The Three Fish," and Marion at sight of +him cried out, "I'm out of luck; who would have thought to see you +again?" then seeing he was sad, and rather hurt than amused at this +blunt jest, she asked him what was amiss? He told her. She took +a bright view of the case. Gerard was too handsome and well-behaved +to come to harm. The women too would always be on his side. +Moreover, it was clear that things must either go well or ill with him. +In the former case he would strike in with some good company +going to Rome; in the latter, he would return home, perhaps be +there before his friend; "for you have a trifle of fighting to do in +Flanders by all accounts." She then brought him his gold pieces, +and steadily refused to accept one, though he urged her again and +again. Denys was somewhat convinced by her argument, because +she concurred with his own wishes, and was also cheered a little +by finding her so honest. It made him think a little better of that +world in which his poor little friend was walking alone.</p> + +<p>Foot-soldiers in small bodies down to twos and threes were already +on the road, making lazily towards Flanders, many of them penniless, +but passed from town to town by the bailiffs, with orders for +food and lodging on the innkeepers.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<p>Anthony of Burgundy overtook numbers of these, and gathered +them under his standard, so that he entered Flanders at the head +of six hundred men. On crossing the frontier he was met by his +brother Baldwyn, with men, arms, and provisions; he organized +his whole force and marched on in battle array through several +towns, not only without impediment, but with great acclamations. +This loyalty called forth comments not altogether gracious.</p> + +<p>"This rebellion of ours is a bite," growled a soldier called Simon, +who had elected himself Denys's comrade.</p> + +<p>Denys said nothing, but made a little vow to St. Mars to shoot +this Anthony of Burgundy dead, should the rebellion, that had +cost him Gerard, prove no rebellion.</p> + +<p>That afternoon they came in sight of a strongly fortified town; +and a whisper went through the little army that this was a disaffected +place.</p> + +<p>But, when they came in sight, the great gate stood open, and the +towers that flanked it on each side were manned with a single sentinel +apiece. So the advancing force somewhat broke their array +and marched carelessly.</p> + +<p>When they were within a furlong, the draw-bridge across the moat +rose slowly and creaking till it stood vertical against the fort, and, +the very moment it settled into this warlike attitude, down rattled +the portcullis at the gate, and the towers and curtains bristled with +lances and cross-bows.</p> + +<p>A stern hum ran through the Bastard's front rank and spread to +the rear.</p> + +<p>"Halt!" cried he. The word went down the line, and they +halted. "Herald to the gate!" A pursuivant spurred out of +the ranks, and, halting twenty yards from the gate, raised his bugle +with his herald's flag hanging down round it, and blew a summons. +A tall figure in brazen armour appeared over the gate. A few +fiery words passed between him and the herald, which were not +audible, but their import clear, for the herald blew a single keen +and threatening note at the walls, and came galloping back with war +in his face. The Bastard moved out of the line to meet him, and +their heads had not been together two seconds ere he turned in his +saddle and shouted, "Pioneers, to the van!" and in a moment hedges +were levelled, and the force took the field and encamped just out of +shot from the walls; and away went mounted officers flying south,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +east, and west, to the friendly towns, for catapults, palisades, mantelets, +raw hides, tar barrels, carpenters, provisions, and all the +materials for a siege.</p> + +<p>The bright perspective mightily cheered one drooping soldier. +At the first clang of the portcullis his eyes brightened and his temple +flushed; and when the herald came back with battle in his eye he +saw it in a moment, and for the first time this many days cried, +"Courage, tout le monde, le diable est mort."</p> + +<p>If that great warrior heard, how he must have grinned!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE besiegers encamped a furlong from the walls and made +roads; kept their pikemen in camp ready for an assault +when practicable; and sent forward their sappers, pioneers, +catapultiers, and cross-bowmen. These opened a siege by filling the +moat, and mining, or breaching the wall, etc. And, as much of +their work had to be done under close fire of arrows, quarels, +bolts, stones, and little rocks, the above artists "had need of a hundred +eyes," and acted in concert with a vigilance, and an amount of individual +intelligence, daring and skill, that made a siege very interesting, +and even amusing; to lookers on.</div> + +<p>The first thing they did was to advance their carpenters behind +rolling mantelets, to erect a stockade high and strong on the very +edge of the moat. Some lives were lost at this, but not many; for +a strong force of cross-bowmen, including Denys, rolled their mantelets +up and shot over the workmen's heads at every besieged who +showed his nose, and at every loophole, arrow-slit, or other aperture, +which commanded the particular spot the carpenters happened to +be upon. Covered by their condensed fire, these soon raised a high +palisade between them and the ordinary missiles from the pierced +masonry.</p> + +<p>But the besieged expected this, and ran out at night their hoards, +or wooden penthouses on the top of the curtains. The curtains +were built with square holes near the top to receive the beams, that +supported these structures, the true defence of mediæval forts, from +which the besieged delivered their missiles with far more freedom +and variety of range than they could shoot through the oblique<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +but immovable loopholes of the curtain, or even through the sloping +crenelets of the higher towers. On this the besiegers brought up +mangonels, and set them hurling huge stones at these wood works +and battering them to pieces. Contemporaneously they built a triangular +wooden tower as high as the curtain, and kept it ready for +use, and just out of shot.</p> + +<p>This was a terrible sight to the besieged. These wooden towers +had taken many a town. They began to mine underneath that part +of the moat the tower stood frowning at; and made other preparations +to give it a warm reception. The besiegers also mined, but at another +part, their object being to get under the square barbican and +throw it down. All this time Denys was behind his mantelet with +another arbalestrier, protecting the workmen and making some excellent +shots. These ended by earning him the esteem of an unseen +archer, who every now and then sent a winged compliment quivering +into his mantelet. One came and struck within an inch of the +narrow slit through which Denys was squinting at the moment. +"Peste," cried he, "you shoot well, my friend. Come forth and +receive my congratulations! Shall merit such as thine hide its +head? Comrade, it is one of those cursed Englishmen, with his half +ell shaft. I'll not die till I've had a shot at London wall."</p> + +<p>On the besiegers' side was a figure that soon attracted great +notice by promenading under fire. It was a tall knight, clad in +complete brass, and carrying a light but prodigiously long lance +with which he directed the movements of the besieged. And, when +any disaster befell the besiegers, this long knight and his tall lance +were pretty sure to be concerned in it.</p> + +<p>My young reader will say, "Why did not Denys shoot him?"</p> + +<p>Denys did shoot him; every day of his life: other arbalestriers shot +him; archers shot him. Everybody shot him. He was there to be +shot, apparently. But the abomination was, he did not mind being +shot. Nay, worse, he got at last so demoralized as not to seem to +know when he was shot. He walked his battlements under fire, as +some stout skipper paces his deck in a suit of Flushing, calmly +oblivious of the April drops that fall on his woolen armour. At +last the besiegers got spiteful, and would not waste any more +good steel on him; but cursed him and his impervious coat of +mail.</p> + +<p>He took these missiles like the rest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gunpowder has spoiled war. War was always detrimental to +the solid interests of mankind. But in old times it was good for +something: it painted well, sang divinely, furnished Iliads. But +invisible butchery, under a pall of smoke a furlong thick, who is +any the better for that? Poet with his note-book may repeat, "Suave +etiam belli certamina magna tueri;" but the sentiment is hollow +and savours of cuckoo. You can't tueri anything but a horrid row. +He didn't say "Suave etiam ingentem caliginem tueri per campos +instructam."</p> + +<p>They managed better in the middle ages.</p> + +<p>This siege was a small affair: but, such as it was, a writer or +minstrel could see it; and turn an honest penny by singing it; so +far then the sport was reasonable, and served an end.</p> + +<p>It was a bright day, clear, but not quite frosty. The efforts of +the besieging force were concentrated against a space of about two +hundred and fifty yards, containing two curtains, and two towers, +one of which was the square barbican, the other had a pointed roof +that was built to overlap, resting on a stone machicolade, and by +this means a row of dangerous crenelets between the roof and the +masonry grinned down at the nearer assailants, and looked not very +unlike the grinders of a modern frigate with each port nearly closed. +The curtains were overlapped with pent-houses somewhat shattered +by the mangonels, trébuchets, and other slinging engines of the besiegers. +On the besiegers' edge of the moat was what seemed at first +sight a gigantic arsenal, longer than it was broad, peopled by human +ants, and full of busy, honest industry, and displaying all the various +mechanical science of the age in full operation. Here the lever +at work, there the winch and pulley, here the balance, there the capstan. +Everywhere heaps of stones, and piles of fascines, mantelets, +and rows of fire-barrels. Mantelets rolling, the hammer tapping all +day, horses and carts in endless succession rattling up with materials. +Only, on looking closer into the hive of industry, you might observe +that arrows were constantly flying to and fro, that the cranes did +not tenderly deposit their masses of stone, but flung them with an +indifference to property, though on scientific principles, and that +among the tubs full of arrows, and the tar-barrels and the beams, +the fagots, and other utensils, here and there a workman or a soldier +lay flatter than is usual in limited naps, and something more or less +feathered stuck in them, and blood, and other essentials, oozed out.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span></p> + +<p>At the edge of the moat opposite the wooden tower, a strong penthouse +which they called "a cat" might be seen stealing towards the +curtain, and gradually filling up the moat with fascines and rubbish, +which the workmen flung out at its mouth. It was advanced by two +sets of ropes passing round pulleys, and each worked by a windlass at +some distance from the cat. The knight burnt the first cat by +flinging blazing tar-barrels on it. So the besiegers made the roof +of this one very steep, and covered it with raw hides, and the tar-barrels +could not harm it. Then the knight made signs with his +spear, and a little trébuchet behind the walls began dropping stones +just clear of the wall into the moat, and at last they got the range, +and a stone went clean through the roof of the cat, and made an +ugly hole.</p> + +<p>Baldwyn of Burgundy saw this, and losing his temper, ordered +the great catapult that was battering the wood-work of the curtain +opposite it to be turned and levelled slantwise at this invulnerable +knight. Denys and his Englishman went to dinner. These two +worthies being eternally on the watch for one another had made a +sort of distant acquaintance, and conversed by signs, especially on +a topic that in peace or war maintains the same importance. Sometimes +Denys would put a piece of bread on the top of his mantelet, +and then the archer would hang something of the kind out by a +string; or the order of invitation would be reversed. Any way they +always managed to dine together.</p> + +<p>And now the engineers proceeded to the unusual step of slinging +fifty-pound stones at an individual.</p> + +<p>This catapult was a scientific, simple, and beautiful engine, and +very effective in vertical fire at the short ranges of the period.</p> + +<p>Imagine a fir-tree cut down, and set to turn round a horizontal +axis on lofty uprights, but not in equilibrio; three-fourths of the +tree being on the hither side. At the shorter and thicker end of the +tree was fastened a weight of half a ton. This butt end just before +the discharge pointed towards the enemy. By means of a powerful +winch the long tapering portion of the tree was forced down to +the very ground; and fastened by a bolt; and the stone placed in +a sling attached to the tree's nose. But this process of course raised +the butt end with its huge weight high in the air, and kept it there +struggling in vain to come down. The bolt was now drawn; Gravity, +an institution which flourished even then, resumed its sway, the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +short end swung furiously down, the long end went as furiously +round up, and at its highest elevation flung the huge stone out of +the sling with a tremendous jerk. In this case the huge mass +so flung missed the knight, but came down near him on the penthouse, +and went through it like paper, making an awful gap in roof and +floor. Through the latter fell out two inanimate objects, the stone +itself and the mangled body of a besieger it had struck. They fell +down the high curtain side, down, down, and struck almost together +the sullen waters of the moat, which closed bubbling on them, and +kept both the stone and the bone two hundred years, till cannon +mocked those oft perturbed waters, and civilization dried them.</p> + +<p>"Aha! a good shot," cried Baldwyn of Burgundy.</p> + +<p>The tall knight retired. The besiegers hooted him.</p> + +<p>He reappeared on the platform of the barbican, his helmet being +just visible above the parapet. He seemed very busy, and soon an +enormous Turkish catapult made its appearance on the platform, +and aided by the elevation at which it was planted, flung a twenty-pound +stone two hundred and forty yards in the air; it bounded after +that, and knocked some dirt into the Lord Anthony's eye, and made +him swear. The next stone struck a horse that was bringing up a +sheaf of arrows in a cart, bowled the horse over dead like a rabbit, +and spilt the cart. It was then turned at the besiegers' wooden +tower, supposed to be out of shot. Sir Turk slung stones cut with +sharp edges on purpose, and struck it repeatedly, and broke it in +several places. The besiegers turned two of their slinging engines +on this monster, and kept constantly slinging smaller stones on to +the platform of the barbican, and killed two of the engineers. But +the Turk disdained to retort. He flung a forty-pound stone on to +the besiegers' great catapult, and hitting it in the neighbourhood of +the axis, knocked the whole structure to pieces and sent the engineers +skipping and yelling.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon, as Simon was running back to his mantelet from +a palisade where he had been shooting at the besieged, Denys, peeping +through his slit, saw the poor fellow suddenly stare and hold out +his arms, then roll on his face, and a feathered arrow protruded +from his back. The archer showed himself a moment to enjoy his +skill. It was the Englishman. Denys, already prepared, shot his +bolt and the murderous archer staggered away wounded. But poor +Simon never moved. His wars were over.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am unlucky in my comrades," said Denys.</p> + +<p>The next morning an unwelcome sight greeted the besieged. The +cat was covered with mattresses and raw hides, and fast filling up +the moat. The knight stoned it, but in vain; flung burning tar-barrels +on it, but in vain. Then with his own hands he let down by +a rope a bag of burning sulphur and pitch, and stunk them out. +But Baldwyn, armed like a lobster, ran, and bounding on the roof, +cut the string, and the work went on. Then the knight sent fresh +engineers into the mine, and undermined the place and underpinned +it with beams, and covered the beams thickly with grease and tar.</p> + +<p>At break of day the moat was filled, and the wooden tower +began to move on its wheels towards a part of the curtain on which +two catapults were already playing to breach the hoards, and clear +the way. There was something awful and magical in its approach +without visible agency, for it was driven by internal rollers worked +by leverage. On the top was a platform, where stood the first assailing +party protected in front by the drawbridge of the turret, which +stood vertical till lowered on to the wall; but better protected by +full suits of armour. The besieged slung at the tower, and struck +it often, but in vain. It was well defended with mattresses and +hides, and presently was at the edge of the moat. The knight bade +fire the mine underneath it.</p> + +<p>Then the Turkish engine flung a stone of half a hundredweight +right amongst the knights and carried two away with it off the +tower on to the plain. One lay and writhed: the other neither moved +nor spake.</p> + +<p>And now the besieging catapults flung blazing tar-barrels, and +fired the hoards on both sides, and the assailants ran up the ladders +behind the tower, and lowered the drawbridge on to the battered +curtain, while the catapults in concert flung tar-barrels and fired the +adjoining works to dislodge the defenders. The armed men on the +platform sprang on the bridge, led by Baldwyn. The invulnerable +knight and his men-at-arms met them, and a fearful combat ensued, +in which many a figure was seen to fall headlong down off the narrow +bridge. But fresh besiegers kept swarming up behind the tower, +and the besieged were driven off the bridge.</p> + +<p>Another minute, and the town was taken, but so well had the firing +of the mine been timed, that just at this instant the underpinners +gave way, and the tower suddenly sank away from the walls tearing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +the drawbridge clear and pouring the soldiers off it against the +masonry and on to the dry moat. The besieged uttered a fierce +shout and in a moment surrounded Baldwyn and his fellows; but +strange to say offered them quarter. While a party disarmed and +disposed of these, others fired the turret in fifty places with a sort +of hand grenades. At this work who so busy as the tall knight. +He put fire-bags on his long spear, and thrust them into the doomed +structure late so terrible. To do this he was obliged to stand on +a projecting beam of the shattered hoard, holding on by the hand +of a pikeman to steady himself. This provoked Denys, he ran +out from his mantelet, hoping to escape notice in the confusion, +and levelling his cross-bow missed the knight clean, but sent his +bolt into the brain of the pikeman, and the tall knight fell heavily +from the wall lance and all. Denys gazed wonderstruck: and, in +that unlucky moment suddenly he felt his arm hot, then cold, and +there was an English arrow skewering it.</p> + +<p>This episode was unnoticed in a much greater matter. The +knight, his armour glittering in the morning sun, fell headlong, +but, turning as he neared the water, struck it with a slap that sounded +a mile off.</p> + +<p>None ever thought to see him again. But he fell at the edge of +the fascines on which the turret stood all cocked on one side, and +his spear stuck into them under water, and by a mighty effort +he got to the side, but could not get out. Anthony sent a dozen +knights with a white flag to take him prisoner. He submitted like +a lamb, but said nothing.</p> + +<p>He was taken to Anthony's tent.</p> + +<p>That worthy laughed at first at the sight of his muddy armour. +But presently, frowning, said, "I marvel, sir, that so good a knight +as you should know his devoir so ill as turn rebel, and give us all +this trouble."</p> + +<p>"I am nun—nun—nun—nun—nun—no knight."</p> + +<p>"What, then?"</p> + +<p>"A hosier."</p> + +<p>"A what? Then thy armour shall be stripped off, and thou shalt +be tied to a stake in front of the works, and riddled with arrows for +a warning to traitors."</p> + +<p>"N—n—n—n—no! duda—duda—duda—duda—don't do that."</p> + +<p>"Why not?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tuta—tuta—tuta—townsfolk will—h—h—h—hang t'other buba—buba—buba—buba—bastard."</p> + +<p>"What, whom?"</p> + +<p>"Your bub—bub—bub—brother Baldwyn."</p> + +<p>"What, have yon knaves ta'en him?"</p> + +<p>The warlike hosier nodded.</p> + +<p>"Hang the fool!" said Anthony peevishly.</p> + +<p>The warlike hosier watched his eye, and, doffing his helmet took +out of the lining an intercepted letter from the duke, bidding the +said Anthony come to court immediately, as he was to represent +the court of Burgundy at the court of England: was to go over and +receive the English king's sister and conduct her to her bridegroom +the Earl of Charolois. The mission was one very soothing to Anthony's +pride, and also to his love of pleasure. For Edward the +Fourth held the gayest and most luxurious court in Europe. The +sly hosier saw he longed to be off, and said, "We'll gega—gega—gega—gega—give +ye a thousand angels to raise the siege."</p> + +<p>"And Baldwyn?"</p> + +<p>"I'll gega—gega—gega—gega—go and send him with the money."</p> + +<p>It was now dinner-time; and, a flag of truce being hoisted on both +sides, the sham knight and the true one dined together and came +to a friendly understanding.</p> + +<p>"But what is your grievance, my good friend?"</p> + +<p>"Tuta—tuta—tuta-tuta—too much taxes."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Denys on finding the arrow in his right arm, turned his back, +which was protected by a long shield, and walked sulkily into camp. +He was met by the Comte de Jarnac, who had seen his brilliant shot, +and finding him wounded into the bargain, gave him a handful of +broad pieces.</p> + +<p>"Hast got the better of thy grief, arbalestrier, methinks."</p> + +<p>"My grief, yes; but not my love. As soon as ever I have put +down this rebellion, I go to Holland, and there I shall meet with +him."</p> + +<p>This event was nearer than Denys thought. He was relieved +from service next day, and, though his wound was no trifle, set out +with a stout heart to rejoin his friend in Holland.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>A CHANGE came over Margaret Brandt. She went about +her household duties like one in a dream. If Peter did +but speak a little quickly to her, she started and fixed two +terrified eyes on him. She went less often to her friend Margaret +Van Eyck, and was ill at her ease when there. Instead of meeting +her warm old friend's caresses, she used to receive them passive +and trembling, and sometimes almost shrink from them. But the +most extraordinary thing was, she never would go outside her own +house in daylight. When she went to Tergou it was after dusk, +and she returned before daybreak. She would not even go to matins. +At last Peter, unobservant as he was, noticed it, and asked her the +reason.</div> + +<p>"The folk all look at me so."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>One day, Margaret Van Eyck asked her what was the matter. +A scared look and a flood of tears were all the reply: the old lady +expostulated gently. "What, sweetheart, afraid to confide your sorrows +to me?"</p> + +<p>"I have no sorrows, madam, but of my own making. I am +kinder treated than I deserve; especially in this house."</p> + +<p>"Then why not come oftener, my dear?"</p> + +<p>"I come oftener than I deserve:" and she sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>"There, Reicht is bawling for you," said Margaret Van Eyck; +"go child!—what on earth can it be?"</p> + +<p>Turning possibilities over in her mind, she thought Margaret must +be mortified at the contempt with which she was treated by Gerard's +family. "I will take them to task for it, at least such of them as +are women;" and, the very next day, she put on her hood and cloak, +and, followed by Reicht, went to the hosier's house. Catherine received +her with much respect, and thanked her with tears for her +kindness to Gerard. But when, encouraged by this, her visitor diverged +to Margaret Brandt, Catherine's eyes dried, and her lips +turned to half the size, and she looked as only obstinate, ignorant +women can look. When they put on this cast of features, you might +as well attempt to soften or convince a brick wall. Margaret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +Van Eyck tried, but all in vain. So then, not being herself used +to be thwarted, she got provoked, and at last went out hastily with +an abrupt and mutilated curtsy, which Catherine returned with an +air rather of defiance than obeisance. Outside the door Margaret +Van Eyck found Reicht conversing with a pale girl on crutches. +Margaret Van Eyck was pushing by them with heightened colour, +and a scornful toss intended for the whole family, when suddenly +a little delicate hand glided timidly into hers, and looking round +she saw two dove-like eyes, with the water in them, that sought +hers gratefully, and at the same time, imploringly. The old lady +read this wonderful look, complex as it was, and down went her +choler. She stooped and kissed Kate's brow. "I see," said she. +"Mind, then, I leave it to you." Returned home, she said,—"I +have been to a house to-day, where I have seen a very common thing +and a very uncommon thing: I have seen a stupid, obstinate woman, +and I have seen an angel in the flesh, with a face—if I had it here +I'd take down my brushes once more, and try and paint it."</p> + +<p>Little Kate did not belie the good opinion so hastily formed of +her. She waited a better opportunity, and told her mother what +she had learned from Reicht Heynes, that Margaret had shed her +very blood for Gerard in the wood.</p> + +<p>"See, mother, how she loves him."</p> + +<p>"Who would not love him?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, think of it! Poor thing."</p> + +<p>"Ay, wench. She has her own trouble, no doubt, as well as we +ours. I can't abide the sight of blood, let alone my own."</p> + +<p>This was a point gained; but when Kate tried to follow it up she +was stopped short.</p> + +<p>About a month after this a soldier of the Dalgetty tribe, returning +from service in Burgundy, brought a letter one evening to the +hosier's house. He was away on business: but the rest of the +family sat at supper. The soldier laid the letter on the table by +Catherine, and, refusing all guerdon for bringing it, went off to +Sevenbergen.</p> + +<p>The letter was unfolded and spread out: and curiously enough, +though not one of them could read, they could all tell it was Gerard's +handwriting.</p> + +<p>"And your father must be away," cried Catherine. "Are ye not +ashamed of yourselves? not one that can read your brother's letter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> + +<p>But although the words were to them what hieroglyphics are to us, +there was something in the letter they could read. There is an art +can speak without words: unfettered by the penman's limits, it can +steal through the eye into the heart and brain, alike of the learned +and unlearned: and it can cross a frontier or a sea, yet lose nothing. +It is at the mercy of no translator: for it writes an universal language.</p> + +<p>When, therefore, they saw this,</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 489px;"> +<img src="images/illus338.png" width="489" height="200" alt="clasped hands" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>which Gerard had drawn with his pencil between the two short +paragraphs, of which his letter consisted, they read it, and it went +straight to their hearts.</div> + +<p>Gerard was bidding them farewell.</p> + +<p>As they gazed on that simple sketch, in every turn and line of +which they recognized his manner, Gerard seemed present, and bidding +them farewell.</p> + +<p>The women wept over it till they could see it no longer.</p> + +<p>Giles said, "Poor Gerard!" in a lower voice than seemed to belong +to him.</p> + +<p>Even Cornelis and Sybrandt felt a momentary remorse, and sat +silent and gloomy.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>But how to get the words read to them. They were loth to show +their ignorance and their emotion to a stranger.</p> + +<p>"The Dame Van Eyck?" said Kate, timidly.</p> + +<p>"And so I will, Kate. She has a good heart. She loves Gerard, +too. She will be glad to hear of him. I was short with her when +she came here: but I will make my submission, and then she will tell +me what my poor child says to me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span></p> + +<p>She was soon at Margaret Van Eyck's house. Reicht took her +into a room, and said, "Bide a minute; she is at her orisons."</p> + +<p>There was a young woman in the room seated pensively by the +stove; but she rose and courteously made way for the visitor.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, young lady; the winter nights are cold, and your +stove is a treat." Catherine then, while warming her hands, inspected +her companion furtively from head to foot, both inclusive. +The young person wore an ordinary wimple, but her gown was trimmed +with fur, which was, in those days, almost a sign of superior +rank or wealth. But what most struck Catherine was the candour +and modesty of the face. She felt sure of sympathy from so good +a countenance, and began to gossip.</p> + +<p>"Now, what think you brings me here, young lady? It is a +letter: a letter from my poor boy that is far away in some savage +part or other. And I take shame to say that none of us can read +it. I wonder whether you can read?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Can ye, now? It is much to your credit, my dear. I dare say +she won't be long; but every minute is an hour to a poor longing +mother."</p> + +<p>"I will read it to you."</p> + +<p>"Bless you, my dear; bless you!"</p> + +<p>In her unfeigned eagerness she never noticed the suppressed eagerness, +with which the hand was slowly put out to take the letter. +She did not see the tremor with which the fingers closed on it.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Come then, read it to me, prithee. I am wearying for it."</p> + +<p>"The first words are, 'To my honoured parents.'"</p> + +<p>"Ay! and he always did honour us, poor soul."</p> + +<p>"'God and the saints have you in his holy keeping, and bless you +by night and by day. Your one harsh deed is forgotten; your years +of love remembered.'"</p> + +<p>Catherine laid her hand on her bosom, and sank back in her chair +with one long sob.</p> + +<p>"Then comes this, madam. It doth speak for itself; 'a long +farewell.'"</p> + +<p>"Ay, go on: bless you, girl; you give me sorry comfort. Still 'tis +comfort."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'To my brothers Cornelis and Sybrandt:—Be content; you will +see me no more!'"</p> + +<p>"What does that mean? Ah."</p> + +<p>"'To my sister Kate. Little angel of my father's house. Be +kind to <i>her</i>—' Ah!"</p> + +<p>"That is Margaret Brandt, my dear,—his sweetheart, poor soul. +I've not been kind to her, my dear. Forgive me, Gerard!"</p> + +<p>"'—for poor Gerard's sake: since grief to her is death—to—me——' +Ah!" And nature, resenting the poor girl's struggle for unnatural +composure, suddenly gave way, and she sank from her chair +and lay insensible, with the letter in her hand, and her head on +Catherine's knees.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XLV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>EXPERIENCED women are not frightened when a woman +faints, nor do they hastily attribute it to anything but physical +causes, which they have often seen produce it. Catherine +bustled about; laid the girl down with her head on the floor quite +flat, opened the window, and unloosed her dress as she lay. Not +till she had done all this did she step to the door and say, rather +loudly:</div> + +<p>"Come here, if you please."</p> + +<p>Margaret Van Eyck and Reicht came and found Margaret lying +quite flat, and Catherine beating her hands.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my poor girl! What have you done to her?"</p> + +<p>"Me?" said Catherine, angrily.</p> + +<p>"What has happened, then?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, madam; nothing more than is natural in her situation."</p> + +<p>Margaret Van Eyck coloured with ire.</p> + +<p>"You do well to speak so coolly," said she, "you that are the cause +of her situation."</p> + +<p>"That I am not," said Catherine, bluntly, "nor any woman born."</p> + +<p>"What? was it not you and your husband that kept them apart: and +now he is gone to Italy all alone. Situation indeed? You have +broken her heart amongst you."</p> + +<p>"Why, madam? Who is it then? in Heaven's name? to hear you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> +one would think this was my Gerard's lass. But that can't be. +This fur never cost less than five crowns the ell; besides, this young +gentlewoman is a wife; or ought to be."</p> + +<p>"Of course she ought. And who is the cause she is none? Who +came between them at the very altar?"</p> + +<p>"God forgive them, whoever it was," said Catherine, gravely: +"me it was not, nor my man."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the other, a little softened, "now you have seen her +perhaps you will not be quite so bitter against her, madam. She +is coming to, thank Heaven."</p> + +<p>"Me bitter against her?" said Catherine: "no; that is all over. +Poor soul! trouble behind her and trouble afore her; and to think +of my setting her, of all living women, to read Gerard's letter to +me. Ay, and that was what made her go off, I'll be sworn. She +is coming to. What, sweetheart? be not afeard, none are here but +friends."</p> + +<p>They seated her in an easy chair. As the colour was creeping +back to her face and lips, Catherine drew Margaret Van Eyck +aside.</p> + +<p>"Is she staying with you, if you please?"</p> + +<p>"No, madam."</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't let her go back to Sevenbergen to-night, then."</p> + +<p>"That is as she pleases. She still refuses to bide the night."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but you are older than she is; you can make her. There, +she is beginning to notice." Catherine then put her mouth to +Margaret Van Eyck's ear for half a moment; it did not seem time +enough to whisper a word, far less a sentence. But on some topics +females can flash communication to female like lightning, or thought +itself.</p> + +<p>The old lady started, and whispered back.</p> + +<p>"It's false! it is a calumny! it is monstrous! Look at her face. +It is blasphemy to accuse such a face."</p> + +<p>"Tut! tut! tut!" said the other, "you might as well say this is +not my hand. I ought to know; and I tell ye it is <i>so</i>."</p> + +<p>Then much to Margaret Van Eyck's surprise she went up to the +girl, and, taking her round the neck, kissed her warmly. "I suffered +for Gerard, and you shed your blood for him I do hear: his +own words show me I have been to blame, the very words you have +read to me. Ay, Gerard, my child, I have held aloof from her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +But I'll make it up to her, once I begin. You are my daughter +from this hour."</p> + +<p>Another warm embrace sealed this hasty compact, and the woman +of impulse was gone.</p> + +<p>Margaret lay back in her chair, and a feeble smile stole over her +face. Gerard's mother had kissed her and called her daughter; but +the next moment she saw her old friend looking at her with a vexed +air.</p> + +<p>"I wonder you let that woman kiss you."</p> + +<p>"His mother!" murmured Margaret, half reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Mother, or no mother, you would not let her touch you if you +knew what she whispered in my ear about you."</p> + +<p>"About me?" said Margaret, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Ay, about you whom she never saw till to-night." The old lady +was proceeding, with some hesitation and choice of language, to +make Margaret share her indignation, when an unlooked-for interruption +closed her lips.</p> + +<p>The young woman slid from her chair to her knees, and began to +pray piteously to her for pardon. From the words and the manner +of her penitence a bystander would have gathered she had inflicted +some cruel wrong, some intolerable insult, upon her venerable friend.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE little party at the hosier's house sat at table discussing +the recent event, when their mother returned, and, casting +a piercing glance all round the little circle, laid the letter +flat on the table. She repeated every word of it by memory, following +the lines with her finger, to cheat herself and hearers into the +notion that she could read the words or nearly. Then, suddenly +lifting her head, she cast another keen look on Cornelis and +Sybrandt: their eyes fell.</div> + +<p>On this the storm that had long been brewing burst on their heads.</p> + +<p>Catherine seemed to swell like an angry hen ruffling her feathers, +and out of her mouth came a Rhone and Saône of wisdom and twaddle, +of great and mean invective, such as no male that ever was born +could utter in one current; and not many women.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span></p> + +<p>The following is a fair though a small sample of her words: only +they were uttered all in one breath:—</p> + +<p>"I have long had my doubts that you blew the flame betwixt +Gerard and your father, and set that old rogue, Ghysbrecht, on. +And now here are Gerard's own written words to prove it. You +have driven your own flesh and blood into a far land, and +robbed the mother that bore you of her darling, the pride +of her eye, the joy of her heart. But you are all of a piece from +end to end. When you were all boys together, my others were a +comfort; but you were a curse: mischievous and sly; and took a +woman half a day to keep your clothes whole: for why? work wears +cloth, but play cuts it. With the beard comes prudence: but none +came to you: still the last to go to bed, and the last to leave it; +and why? because honesty goes to bed early, and industry rises +betimes; where there are two lie-abeds in a house there are a pair +of ne'er-do-weels. Often I've sat and looked at your ways, and wondered +where ye came from: ye don't take after your father, and ye +are no more like me than a wasp is to an ant; sure ye were changed +in the cradle, or the cuckoo dropped ye on my floor: for ye have +not our hands, nor our hearts: of all my blood none but you ever +jeered them that God afflicted; but often when my back was turned +I've heard you mock at Giles, because he is not so big as some; +and at my lily Kate, because she is not so strong as a Flanders mare. +After that rob a church an you will! for you can be no worse in +His eyes that made both Kate and Giles, and in mine that suffered +for them, poor darlings, as I did for you, you paltry, unfeeling, treasonable +curs! No, I will not hush, my daughter; they have filled the +cup too full. It takes a deal to turn a mother's heart against the +sons she has nursed upon her knees; and many is the time I have +winked and wouldn't see too much, and bitten my tongue, lest their +father should know them as I do; he would have put them to the door +that moment. But now they have filled the cup too full. And +where got ye all this money? For this last month you have been +rolling in it. You never wrought for it. I wish I may never hear +from other mouths how ye got it. It is since that night you were +out so late, and <i>your</i> head came back so swelled, Cornelis. Sloth +and greed are ill mated, my masters. Lovers of money must sweat +or steal. Well, if you robbed any poor soul of it, it was some +woman, I'll go bail; for a man would drive you with his naked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +hand. No matter; it is good for one thing. It has shown me how +you will guide our gear if ever it comes to be yourn. I have +watched you, my lads, this while. You have spent a groat to-day +between you. And I spend scarce a groat a week, and keep you all, +good <i>and</i> bad. No! give up waiting for the shoes that will maybe +walk behind your coffin; for this shop and this house shall never be +yourn. Gerard is our heir: poor Gerard whom you have banished +and done your best to kill; after that never call me mother again! +But you have made him tenfold dearer to me. My poor lost boy! +I shall soon see him again; shall hold him in my arms, and set +him on my knees. Ay, you may stare! You are too crafty, and +yet not crafty enow. You cut the stalk away; but you left the seed—the +seed that shall outgrow you, and outlive you. Margaret +Brandt is quick, and it is Gerard's, and what is Gerard's is mine; +and I have prayed the saints it may be a boy: and it will—it must. +Kate, when I found it was so, my bowels yearned over her child +unborn as if it had been my own. He is our heir. He will outlive +us. You will not: for a bad heart in a carcass is like the worm in +a nut, soon brings the body to dust. So, Kate, take down Gerard's +bib and tucker that are in the drawer you wot of, and one of these +days we will carry them to Sevenbergen. We will borrow Peter +Buyskens' cart, and go comfort Gerard's wife under her burden. +She is his wife. Who is Ghysbrecht Van Swieten? Can he come between +a couple and the altar, and sunder those that God and the +priest make one? She is my daughter, and I am as proud of her +as I am of you, Kate, almost; and as for <i>you</i>, keep out of my way +awhile: for you are like the black dog in my eyes."</p> + +<p>Cornelis and Sybrandt took the hint and slunk out, aching with +remorse, and impenitence, and hate. They avoided her eye as much +as ever they could: and for many days she never spoke a word +good, bad, or indifferent, to either of them. Liberaverat animum +suum.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>CATHERINE was a good housewife who seldom left home +for a day, and then one thing or another always went amiss. +She was keenly conscious of this, and, watching for a +slack tide in things domestic, put off her visit to Sevenbergen from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +day to day, and one afternoon that it really could have been managed +Peter Buyskens' mule was out of the way.</div> + +<p>At last, one day Eli asked her before all the family, whether it +was true she had thought of visiting Margaret Brandt.</p> + +<p>"Ay, my man."</p> + +<p>"Then I do forbid you."</p> + +<p>"Oh, do you?"</p> + +<p>"I do."</p> + +<p>"Then there is no more to be said, I suppose," said she, colouring.</p> + +<p>"Not a word," replied Eli, sternly.</p> + +<p>When she was alone with her daughter she was very severe, not +upon Eli, but upon herself.</p> + +<p>"Behoved me rather go thither like a cat at a robin. But this +was me all over. I am like a silly hen that can lay no egg without +cackling, and convening all the house to rob her on't. Next time you +and I are after aught the least amiss, let's do't in Heaven's name +then and there, and not take time to think about it, far less talk; +so then, if they take us to task we can say, alack we knew nought; +we thought no ill; now, who'd ever? and so forth. For two pins I'd +go thither in all their teeth."</p> + +<p>Defiance so wild and picturesque staggered Kate. "Nay, mother; +with patience father will come round."</p> + +<p>"And so will Michaelmas; but when? and I was so bent on you +seeing the girl. Then we could have put our heads together about +her. Say what they will, there is no judging body or beast but by +the eye. And were I to have fifty more sons I'd ne'er thwart one of +them's fancy, till such time as I had clapped my eyes upon her and +seen Quicksands: say you, I should have thought of that before condemning +Gerard his fancy: but there, life is a school, and the lesson +ne'er done; we put down one fault and take up t'other, and so go +blundering here, and blundering there, till we blunder into our +graves, and there's an end of us."</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Kate, timidly.</p> + +<p>"Well, what is a-coming now? no good news though, by the look +of you. What on earth can make the poor wench so scared?"</p> + +<p>"An avowal she hath to make," faltered Kate, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Now, there is a noble word for ye," said Catherine, proudly. +"Our Gerard taught thee that, I'll go bail. Come then, out with +thy vowel."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well then, sooth to say, I have seen her."</p> + +<p>"Anan?"</p> + +<p>"And spoken with her to boot."</p> + +<p>"And never told me? After this marvels are dirt."</p> + +<p>"Mother, you were so hot against her. I waited till I could tell +you without angering you worse."</p> + +<p>"Ay," said Catherine, half sadly, half bitterly, "like mother like +daughter: cowardice it is our bane. The others I whiles buffet; or +how would the house fare? but did you, Kate, ever have harsh word +or look from your poor mother, that you——. Nay, I will not have +ye cry, girl; ten to one ye had your reason; so rise up, brave heart, +and tell me all, better late than ne'er; and first and foremost when +ever, and how ever, wond you to Sevenbergen wi' your poor crutches, +and I not know?"</p> + +<p>"I never was there in my life; and, mammy dear, to say that I +ne'er wished to see her that I will not, but I ne'er went, nor sought +to see her."</p> + +<p>"There, now," said Catherine, disputatively, "said I not 'twas all +unlike my girl to seek her unbeknown to me. Come now, for I'm +all agog."</p> + +<p>"Then thus 'twas. It came to my ears, no matter how, and +prithee, good mother, on my knees ne'er ask me how, that Gerard +was a prisoner in the Stadthouse tower."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"By father's behest as 'twas pretended."</p> + +<p>Catherine uttered a sigh that was almost a moan. "Blacker +than I thought," she muttered, faintly.</p> + +<p>"Giles and I went out at night to bid him be of good cheer. And +there at the tower foot was a brave lass, quite strange to me I vow, +on the same errand."</p> + +<p>"Lookee there now, Kate."</p> + +<p>"At first we did properly frighten one another, through the place +his bad name, and our poor heads being so full o' divels, and we +whitened a bit in moonshine. But next moment, quo' I 'You are +Margaret:' 'And you are Kate,' quo' she. Think on't!"</p> + +<p>"Did one ever?—'Twas Gerard! He will have been talking backwards +and forrards of thee to her, and her to thee."</p> + +<p>In return for this, Kate bestowed on Catherine one of the prettiest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +presents in nature—the composite kiss: <i>i. e.</i>, she imprinted on her +cheek a single kiss, which said—</p> + +<p>1. Quite correct.</p> + +<p>2. Good, clever mother, for guessing so right and quick.</p> + +<p>3. How sweet for us twain to be of one mind again after never +having been otherwise.</p> + +<p>4. Etc.</p> + +<p>"Now then, speak thy mind, child, Gerard is not here. Alas, +what am I saying? would to Heaven he were."</p> + +<p>"Well then, mother, she is comely, and wrongs her picture but +little."</p> + +<p>"Eh, dear; hark to young folk! I am for good acts, not good +looks. Loves she my boy as he did ought to be loved?"</p> + +<p>"Sevenbergen is farther from the Stadthouse than we are," said +Kate, thoughtfully; "yet she was there afore me."</p> + +<p>Catherine nodded intelligence.</p> + +<p>"Nay, more, she had got him out ere I came. Ay, down from the +captives' tower."</p> + +<p>Catherine shook her head incredulously. "The highest tower +for miles! It is not feasible."</p> + +<p>"'Tis sooth though. She and an old man she brought found +means and wit to send him up a rope. There 'twas dangling from +his prison, and our Giles went up it. When first I saw it hang, I +said, 'This is glamour.' But when the frank lass's arms came round +me, and her bosom did beat on mine, and her cheeks wet, then said +I, ''Tis not glamour: 'tis love.' For she is not like me, but lusty +and able; and, dear heart, even I, poor frail creature, do feel sometimes +as I could move the world for them I love: I love <i>you</i>, mother. +And she loves Gerard."</p> + +<p>"God bless her for't! God bless her!"</p> + +<p>"But."</p> + +<p>"But what, lamb?"</p> + +<p>"Her love, is it for very certain honest? 'Tis most strange; but +that very thing, which hath warmed your heart, hath somewhat +cooled mine towards her; poor soul. She is no wife, you know +mother when all is done."</p> + +<p>"Humph! They have stood at th' altar together."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but they went as they came, maid and bachelor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The parson, saith he so?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, for that I know not."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll take no man's word but his in such a tangled skein." +After some reflection she added, "Natheless art right, girl; I'll to +Sevenbergen alone. A wife I am but not a slave. We are all in +the dark here. And she holds the clue. I must question her, and no +one by; least of all you. I'll not take my lily to a house wi' a spot, +no, not to a palace o' gold and silver."</p> + +<p>The more Catherine pondered this conversation, the more she felt +drawn towards Margaret, and moreover "she was all agog" with curiosity, +a potent passion with us all, and nearly omnipotent with those, +who, like Catherine, do not slake it with reading. At last, one fine +day, after dinner, she whispered to Kate, "Keep the house from +going to pieces, an ye can;" and donned her best kirtle and hood, +and her scarlet clocked hose and her new shoes, and trudged briskly +off to Sevenbergen, troubling no man's mule.</p> + +<p>When she got there she inquired where Margaret Brandt lived. +The first person she asked shook his head, and said, "The name is +strange to me." She went a little farther and asked a girl of about +fifteen who was standing at a door: "Father," said the girl, speaking +into the house, "here is another after that magician's daughter." +The man came out and told Catherine Peter Brandt's cottage was +just outside the town on the east side. "You may see the chimney +hence:" and he pointed it out to her. "But you will not find them +there, nother father nor daughter; they have left the town this week, +bless you."</p> + +<p>"Say not so, good man, and me walken all the way from Tergou."</p> + +<p>"From Tergou? then you must ha' met the soldier."</p> + +<p>"What soldier? ay, I did meet a soldier."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, yon soldier was here seeking that selfsame Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Ay, and warn't a mad with us because she was gone?" put in +the girl. "His long beard and her cheek are no strangers, I warrant."</p> + +<p>"Say no more than ye know," said Catherine, sharply. "You +are young to take to slandering your elders. Stay! tell me more +about this soldier, good man."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know no more than that he came hither seeking Margaret +Brandt, and I told him she and her father had made a moonlight flit +on't this day sennight, and that some thought the devil had flown<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +away with them, being magicians. 'And,' says he, 'the devil fly +away with thee for thy ill news:' that was my thanks. 'But I +doubt 'tis a lie,' said he. 'An you think so,' said I, 'go and see.' +'I will,' said he, and burst out wi' a hantle o' gibberish: my wife +thinks 'twas curses: and hied him to the cottage. Presently back +a comes, and sings t'other tune. 'You were right and I was wrong,' +says he, and shoves a silver coin in my hand. Show it the wife, +some of ye; then she'll believe me; I have been called a liar once +to-day."</p> + +<p>"It needs not," said Catherine, inspecting the coin all the same.</p> + +<p>"And he seemed quiet and sad-like, didn't he now, wench?"</p> + +<p>"That a did," said the young woman warmly; "and, dame, he was +just as pretty a man as ever I clapped eyes on. Cheeks like a rose, +and shining beard, and eyes in his head like sloes."</p> + +<p>"I saw he was well bearded," said Catherine; "but, for the rest, +at my age I scan them not as when I was young and foolish. But +he seemed right civil: doffed his bonnet to me as I had been a +queen, and I did drop him my best reverence, for manners beget +manners. But little I wist he had been her light o' love, and most +likely the——Who bakes for this town?"</p> + +<p>The man, not being acquainted with her, opened his eyes at this +transition, swift and smooth.</p> + +<p>"Well, dame, there be two; John Bush and Eric Donaldson, they +both bide in this street."</p> + +<p>"Then, God be with you, good people" said she, and proceeded: +but her sprightly foot came flat on the ground now, and no longer +struck it with little jerks and cocking heel. She asked the bakers +whether Peter Brandt had gone away in their debt. Bush said +they were not customers. Donaldson said "not a stiver: his daughter +had come round and paid him the very night they went. +Didn't believe they owed a copper in the town." So Catherine got +all the information of that kind she wanted with very little trouble.</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me what sort this Margaret was?" said she, as she +turned to go.</p> + +<p>"Well, somewhat too reserved for my taste. I like a chatty customer—when +I'm not too busy. But she bore a high character for +being a good daughter."</p> + +<p>"'Tis no small praise. A well-looking lass I am told?"</p> + +<p>"Why, whence come you, wyfe?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span></p> + +<p>"From Tergou."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay. Well you shall judge: the lads clept her 'the beauty of +Sevenbergen;' the lasses did scout it merrily, and terribly pulled +her to pieces, and found so many faults no two could agree where +the fault lay."</p> + +<p>"That is enough," said Catherine. "I see, the bakers are no +fools in Sevenbergen, and the young women no shallower than in +other burghs."</p> + +<p>She bought a manchet of bread, partly out of sympathy and justice +(she kept a shop), partly to show her household how much better +bread she gave them daily; and returned to Tergou dejected.</p> + +<p>Kate met her outside the town with beaming eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, Kate lass; it is a happy thing I went; I am heart-broken. +Gerard has been sore abused. The child is none of ourn, nor the +mother from this hour."</p> + +<p>"Alas, mother, I fathom not your meaning."</p> + +<p>"Ask me no more, girl, but never mention her name to me again. +That is all."</p> + +<p>Kate acquiesced with a humble sigh, and they went home together.</p> + +<p>They found a soldier seated tranquilly by their fire. The moment +they entered the door, he rose, and saluted them civilly. They +stood and looked at him, Kate with some little surprise, but Catherine +with a great deal, and with rising indignation.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XLVIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"WHAT makes you here?" was Catherine's greeting.</div> + +<p>"I came to seek after Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Well, we know no such person."</p> + +<p>"Say not so, dame; sure you know her by name, Margaret +Brandt."</p> + +<p>"We have heard of her for that matter—to our cost."</p> + +<p>"Come, dame, prithee tell me at least where she bides."</p> + +<p>"I know not where she bides, and care not."</p> + +<p>Denys felt sure this was a deliberate untruth. He bit his lip. +"Well, I looked to find myself in an enemy's country at this Tergou; +but maybe if ye knew all ye would not be so dour."</p> + +<p>"I do know all," replied Catherine bitterly. "This morn I knew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +nought." Then suddenly setting her arms akimbo she told him with +a raised voice and flashing eyes she wondered at his cheek sitting +down by that hearth of all hearths in the world.</p> + +<p>"May Satan fly away with your hearth to the lake of fire and +brimstone," shouted Denys, who could speak Flemish fluently. +"Your own servant bade me sit there till you came, else I had ne'er +troubled your hearth. My malison on it, and on the churlish roof-tree +that greets an unoffending stranger this way," and he strode +scowling to the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!" ejaculated Catherine frightened, and also a little conscience-stricken; +and the virago sat suddenly down and burst into +tears. Her daughter followed suit quietly, but without loss of time.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>A shrewd writer, now unhappily lost to us, has somewhere the +following dialogue:—</p> + +<p><i>She.</i>] "I feel all a woman's weakness."</p> + +<p><i>He.</i>] "Then you are invincible."</p> + +<p>Denys, by anticipation, confirmed that valuable statement; he +stood at the door looking ruefully at the havoc his thunderbolt of +eloquence had made.</p> + +<p>"Nay, wife," said he, "weep not neither for a soldier's hasty word. +I mean not all I said. Why your house is your own, and what right +in it have I? There now, I'll go."</p> + +<p>"What is to do?" said a grave manly voice. It was Eli; he had +come in from the shop.</p> + +<p>"Here is a ruffian been a-scolding of your womenfolk and making +them cry," explained Denys.</p> + +<p>"Little Kate, what is't? for ruffians do not use to call themselves +ruffians," said Eli the sensible.</p> + +<p>Ere she could explain, "Hold your tongue, girl," said Catherine; +"Muriel bade him sat down, and I knew not that, and wyted on +him; and he was going and leaving his malison on us, root and +branch. I was never so becursed in all my days, oh! oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>"You were both somewhat to blame; both you and he," said Eli +calmly. "However, what the servant says the master should still +stand to. We keep not open house, but yet we are not poor enough +to grudge a seat at our hearth in a cold day to a wayfarer with an +honest face, and as, I think, a wounded man. So, end all malice, +and sit ye down!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Wounded?" cried mother and daughter in a breath.</p> + +<p>"Think you a soldier slings his arm for sport?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, 'tis but an arrow," said Denys cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"But an arrow?" said Kate with concentrated horror. "Where +were our eyes, mother?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, in good sooth, a trifle. Which however I will pray mesdames +to accept as an excuse for my vivacity. 'Tis these little foolish +trifling wounds that fret a man, worthy sir. Why, look ye now, +sweeter temper than our Gerard never breathed, yet, when the bear +did but strike a piece no bigger than a crown out of his calf, he +turned so hot and choleric y'had said he was no son of yours, but +got by the good knight Sir John Pepper on his wife dame Mustard; +who is this? a dwarf? your servant, master Giles."</p> + +<p>"Your servant, soldier," roared the new-comer. Denys started. +He had not counted on exchanging greetings with a petard.</p> + +<p>Denys's words had surprised his hosts, but hardly more than their +deportment now did him. They all three came creeping up to where +he sat, and looked down into him with their lips parted, as if he +had been some strange phenomenon.</p> + +<p>And growing agitation succeeded to amazement.</p> + +<p>"Now hush!" said Eli, "let none speak but I. Young man," said +he solemnly, "in God's name who are you, that know us though we +know you not, and that shake our hearts speaking to us of—the +absent—our poor rebellious son: whom Heaven forgive and bless?"</p> + +<p>"What, master," said Denys lowering his voice, "hath he not +writ to you? hath he not told you of me, Denys of Burgundy?"</p> + +<p>"He hath writ, but three lines, and named not Denys of Burgundy, +nor any stranger."</p> + +<p>"Ay, I mind the long letter was to his sweetheart, this Margaret, +and she has decamped, plague take her, and how I am to find her +Heaven knows."</p> + +<p>"What, she is not your sweetheart, then?"</p> + +<p>"Who, dame? an't please you."</p> + +<p>"Why, Margaret Brandt."</p> + +<p>"How can my comrade's sweetheart be mine? I know her not +from Noah's niece; how should I? I never saw her."</p> + +<p>"Whist with this idle chat, Kate," said Eli impatiently, "and let +the young man answer me. How came you to know Gerard, our<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +son? Prithee now think on a parent's cares, and answer me straightforward, +like a soldier as thou art."</p> + +<p>"And shall. I was paid off at Flushing, and started for Burgundy. +On the German frontier I lay at the same inn with Gerard. +I fancied him. I said 'Be my comrade.' He was loth at first: consented +presently. Many a weary league we trode together. Never +were truer comrades: never will be while earth shall last. First I +left my route a bit to be with him: then he his to be with me. We +talked of Sevenbergen, and Tergou, a thousand times; and of all +in this house. We had our troubles on the road: but battling them +together made them light. I saved his life from a bear; he mine in +the Rhine: for he swims like a duck and I like a hod o' bricks; and +one another's lives at an inn in Burgundy, where we two held a +room for a good hour against seven cutthroats, and crippled one and +slew two; and your son did his devoir like a man, and met the +stoutest champion I ever countered, and spitted him like a sucking-pig. +Else I had not been here. But just, when all was fair, +and I was to see him safe aboard ship for Rome, if not to Rome +itself, met us that son of a —— the Lord Anthony of Burgundy, and +his men, making for Flanders, then in insurrection, tore us by force +apart, took me where I got some broad pieces in hand, and a broad arrow +in my shoulder, and left my poor Gerard lonesome. At that sad +parting, soldier though I be, these eyes did rain salt scalding tears, +and so did his, poor soul. His last word to me was 'Go comfort +Margaret!' so here I be. Mine to him was 'Think no more of Rome. +Make for Rhine, and down stream home.' Now say, for you know +best, did I advise him well or ill?"</p> + +<p>"Soldier, take my hand," said Eli. "God bless thee! God bless +thee!" and his lip quivered. It was all his reply, but more eloquent +than many words.</p> + +<p>Catherine did not answer at all, but she darted from the room +and bade Muriel bring the best that was in the house, and returned +with wood in both arms, and heaped the fire, and took out a snow-white +cloth from the press, and was going in a great hurry to lay +it for Gerard's friend, when suddenly she sat down and all the power +ebbed rapidly out of her body.</p> + +<p>"Father!" cried Kate, whose eye was as quick as her affection. +Denys started up; but Eli waived him back and flung a little water<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> +sharply in his wife's face. This did her instant good. She gasped, +"So sudden. My poor boy!" Eli whispered Denys, "Take no notice! +she thinks of him night and day." They pretended not to +observe her, and she shook it off, and bustled and laid the cloth +with her own hands; but, as she smoothed it, her hands trembled +and a tear or two stole down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>They could not make enough of Denys. They stuffed him, and +crammed him: and then gathered round him and kept filling his +glass in turn, while by that genial blaze of fire and ruby wine and +eager eyes he told all that I have related, and a vast number of +minor details which an artist, however minute, omits.</p> + +<p>But how different the effect on my readers and on this small +circle! To them the interest was already made before the first word +came from his lips. It was all about Gerard, and he, who sat there +telling it them, was warm from Gerard and an actor with him in +all these scenes.</p> + +<p>The flesh and blood around that fire quivered for their severed +member, hearing its struggles and perils.</p> + +<p>I shall ask my readers to recall to memory all they can of Gerard's +journey with Denys, and in their mind's eye to see those very matters +told by his comrade to an exile's father, all stoic outside, all +father within, and to two poor women, an exile's mother and a sister, +who were all love and pity and tender anxiety both outside and +in. Now would you mind closing this book for a minute and making +an effort to realize all this? It will save us so much repetition.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Then you will not be surprised when I tell you that after a +while Giles came softly and curled himself up before the fire, and +lay gazing at the speaker with a reverence almost canine; and that, +when the rough soldier had unconsciously but thoroughly betrayed +his better qualities, and above all his rare affection for Gerard, +Kate, though timorous as a bird, stole her little hand into the +warrior's huge brown palm, where it lay an instant like a teaspoonful +of cream spilt on a platter, then nipped the ball of his thumb +and served for a Kardiometer. In other words Fate is just even +to rival story-tellers, and balances matters. Denys had to pay a +tax to his audience which I have not. Whenever Gerard was in too +much danger, the female faces became so white, and their poor little +throats gurgled so, he was obliged in common humanity to spoil his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> +recital. Suspense is the soul of narrative, and thus dealt Rough-and-Tender +of Burgundy with his best suspenses. "Now, dame, +take not on till ye hear the end: Ma'amselle, let not your cheek +blanch so, courage! it looks ugly: but you shall hear how we wond +through. Had he miscarried, and I at hand, would I be alive?"</p> + +<p>And I called Kate's little hand a Kardiometer, or heart-measurer, +because it graduated emotion, and pinched by scale. At its +best it was by no means a high-pressure engine. But all is relative. +Denys soon learned the tender gamut; and when to water the suspense, +and extract the thrill as far as possible. On one occasion +only he cannily indemnified his narrative for this drawback. Falling +personally into the Rhine, and sinking, he got pinched, he Denys, +to his surprise and satisfaction. "Oho!" thought he, and on the +principle of the anatomists, "experimentum in corpore vili," kept +himself a quarter of an hour under water; under pressure all the +time. And even when Gerard had got hold of him, he was loth +to leave the river, so, less conscientious than I was, swam with +Gerard to the east bank first, and was about to land, but detected +the officers, and their intent, chaffed them a little space, treading +water, then turned and swam wearily all across, and at last was +obliged to get out, for very shame, or else acknowledge himself a +pike; so permitted himself to land, exhausted: and the pressure relaxed.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>It was eleven o'clock, an unheard-of hour, but they took no note +of time this night; and Denys had still much to tell them, when the +door was opened quietly, and in stole Cornelis and Sybrandt looking +hang-dog. They had this night been drinking the very last drop +of their mysterious funds.</p> + +<p>Catherine feared her husband would rebuke them before Denys: +but he only looked sadly at them, and motioned them to sit down +quietly.</p> + +<p>Denys it was who seemed discomposed. He knitted his brows +and eyed them thoughtfully and rather gloomily. Then turned to +Catherine. "What say you, dame? the rest tomorrow? for I am +somewhat weary and it waxes late."</p> + +<p>"So be it," said Eli. But when Denys rose to go to his inn, he +was instantly stopped by Catherine.</p> + +<p>"And think you to lie from this house? Gerard's room has been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> +got ready for you hours agone: the sheets I'll not say much for, seeing +I spun the flax and wove the web."</p> + +<p>"Then would I lie in them blindfold," was the gallant reply.</p> + +<p>"Ah, dame, our poor Gerard was the one for fine linen. He could +hardly forgive the honest Germans their coarse flax, and, whene'er +my traitors of countrymen did amiss, a would excuse them +saying, 'Well, well; bonnes toiles sont en Bourgogne:' that means +'there be good lenten cloths in Burgundy.' But indeed he beat all +for bywords and cleanliness."</p> + +<p>"Oh Eli! Eli! doth not our son come back to us at each word?"</p> + +<p>"Ay. Buss me, my poor Kate. You and I know all that passeth +in each other's hearts this night. None other can, but God."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XLIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>DENYS took an opportunity next day, and told mother and +daughter the rest, excusing himself characteristically for +not letting Cornelis and Sybrandt hear of it. "It is not for +me to blacken them: they come of a good stock. But Gerard +looks on them as no friends of his in this matter; and I'm Gerard's +comrade; and it is a rule with us soldiers not to tell the enemy aught; +but lies."</div> + +<p>Catherine sighed, but made no answer.</p> + +<p>The adventures he related cost them a tumult of agitation and +grief, and sore they wept at the parting of the friends, which, even +now, Denys could not tell without faltering. But at last all merged +in the joyful hope and expectation of Gerard's speedy return. In +this Denys confidently shared; but reminded them that was no +reason why he should neglect his friend's wishes and last words. In +fact should Gerard return next week, and no Margaret to be found, +what sort of figure should he cut?</p> + +<p>Catherine had never felt so kindly towards the truant Margaret as +now: and she was fully as anxious to find her, and be kind to her +before Gerard's return as Denys was: but she could not agree with +him that anything was to be gained by leaving this neighbourhood to +search for her. "She must have told somebody whither she was +going. It is not as though they were dishonest folk flying the country:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +they owe not a stiver in Sevenbergen: and dear heart, Denys, +you can't hunt all Holland for her."</p> + +<p>"Can I not?" said Denys grimly. "That we shall see." He +added, after some reflection, that they must divide their forces: she +stay here with eyes and ears wide open, and he ransack every +town in Holland for her, if need be. "But she will not be many +leagues from here. They be three. Three fly not so fast, nor far, +as one."</p> + +<p>"That is sense," said Catherine. But she insisted on his going +first to the demoiselle Van Eyck. "She and our Margaret were +bosom friends. She knows where the girl is gone, if she will but +tell us." Denys was for going to her that instant, so Catherine, +in a turn of the hand, made herself one shade neater, and took him +with her.</p> + +<p>She was received graciously by the old lady sitting in a richly +furnished room; and opened her business. The tapestry dropped +out of Margaret Van Eyck's hands. "Gone? Gone from Sevenbergen +and not told me: the thankless girl."</p> + +<p>This turn greatly surprised the visitors. "What you knew not? +when was she here last?"</p> + +<p>"Maybe ten days agone. I had ta'en out my brushes, after so +many years, to paint her portrait. I did not do it though; for reasons."</p> + +<p>Catherine remarked it was "a most strange thing she should go +away bag and baggage like this, without with your leave or by your +leave, why, or wherefore. Was ever aught so untoward; just when +all our hearts are warm to her: and here is Gerard's mate come from +the ends o' the earth with comfort for her from Gerard, and can't +find her, and Gerard himself expected. What to do I know not. +But sure she is not parted like this without a reason. Can ye not +give us the clue, my good demoiselle? Prithee now."</p> + +<p>"I have it not to give," said the elder lady, rather peevishly.</p> + +<p>"Then I can," said Reicht Heynes, showing herself in the doorway, +with colour somewhat heightened.</p> + +<p>"So you have been hearkening all the time, eh?"</p> + +<p>"What are my ears for, mistress?"</p> + +<p>"True. Well throw us the light of thy wisdom on this dark matter."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There is no darkness that I see," said Reicht. "And the clue, +why an' ye call't a two-plye twine, and the ends on't in this room +e'en now, ye'll not be far out. Oh, mistress, I wonder at you sitting +there pretending."</p> + +<p>"Marry, come up!" and the mistress's cheek was now nearly as +red as the servant's. "So 'twas I drove the foolish girl away."</p> + +<p>"You did your share, mistress. What sort of greeting gave you +her last time she came? Think you she could miss to notice it, and +she all friendless? And you said, 'I have altered my mind about +painting of you,' says you, a turning up your nose at her."</p> + +<p>"I did not turn up my nose. It is not shaped like yours for +looking heavenward."</p> + +<p>"Oh, all our nosen can follow our heartys bent, for that matter. +Poor soul. She did come into the kitchen to me. 'I am not to +be painted now,' said she, and the tears in her eyes. She said no +more. But I knew well what she did mean. I had seen ye."</p> + +<p>"Well," said Margaret Van Eyck, "I do confess so much, and I +make you the judge, madam. Know that these young girls can do +nothing of their own heads, but are most apt at mimicking aught +their sweethearts do. Now your Gerard is reasonably handy at +many things, and among the rest at the illuminator's craft. And +Margaret she is his pupil, and a patient one: what marvel? having +a woman's eye for colour, and eke a lover to ape. 'Tis a trick I +despise at heart: for by it the great art of colour, which should be +royal, aspiring, and free, becomes a poor slave to the petty crafts +of writing and printing, and is fettered, imprisoned, and made little, +body and soul, to match the littleness of books, and go to church in a +rich fool's pocket. Natheless affection rules us all, and, when the +poor wench would bring me her thorn leaves, and lilies, and ivy, and +dewberries, and ladybirds, and butterfly grubs, and all the scum of +nature—stuck fast in gold-leaf like wasps in a honey-pot, and, withal +her diurnal book, showing she had pored an hundred, or an hundred +and fifty, or two hundred, hours over each singular page, certes +I was wroth that an immortal soul and many hours of labour, +and much manual skill, should be flung away on Nature's +trash, leaves, insects, grubs, and on barren letters: but, having +bowels, I did perforce restrain, and, as it were, dam my better +feelings, and looked kindly at the work to see how it might be bettered: +and said I, 'Sith Heaven for our sins hath doomed us to spend<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +time, and soul, and colour, on great letters and little beetles, omitting +such small fry as saints and heroes, their acts and passions, +why not present the scum naturally?' I told her 'the grapes I saw, +walking abroad, did hang i' the air, not stick in a wall: and even +these insects,' quo' I, 'and Nature her slime in general, pass not their +noxious lives wedged miserably in metal prisons like flies in honey-pots +and glue-pots, but do crawl or hover at large, infesting air.' +'Ah! my dear friend,' says she, 'I see now whither you drive: but this +ground is gold; whereon we may not shade.' 'Who says so?' quoth +I. 'All teachers of this craft,' says she: and (to make an end o' me +at once, I trow) 'Gerard himself!' 'That for Gerard himself,' quoth +I, 'and all the gang; gi'e me a brush!'</p> + +<p>"Then chose I, to shade her fruit and reptiles, a colour false in +nature, but true relatively to that monstrous ground of glaring +gold; and in five minutes out came a bunch of raspberries, stalk +and all, and a'most flew in your mouth: likewise a butterfly grub +she had so truly presented as might turn the stoutest stomach. My +lady she flings her arms round my neck, and says she, 'Oh!'"</p> + +<p>"Did she now?"</p> + +<p>"The little love!" observed Denys, succeeding at last in wedging +in a word.</p> + +<p>Margaret Van Eyck stared at him; and then smiled. She went +on to tell them how from step to step she had been led on to promise +to resume the art she had laid aside with a sigh when her brothers +died, and to paint the Madonna once more—with Margaret for +model. Incidentally she even revealed how girls are turned into +saints. "'Thy hair is adorable,' said I. 'Why, 'tis red,' quo' +she. 'Ay,' quoth I, 'but what a red! how brown! how glossy! +most hair is not worth a straw to us painters: thine the artist's very +hue. But thy violet eyes, which smack of earth, being now languid +for lack of one Gerard, now full of fire in hopes of the same +Gerard, these will I lift to heaven in fixed and holy meditation, and +thy nose, which doth already somewhat aspire that way (though not +so piously as Reicht's), will I debase a trifle, and somewhat enfeeble +thy chin.'"</p> + +<p>"Enfeeble her chin? Alack! what may that mean? Ye go beyond +me, mistress."</p> + +<p>"'Tis a resolute chin. Not a jot too resolute for this wicked +world: but, when ye come to a Madonna? No thank you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well I never. A resolute chin."</p> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] "The darling!"</p> + +<p>"And now comes the rub. When you told me she was—the way +she is, it gave me a shock: I dropped my brushes. Was I going to +turn a girl, that couldn't keep her lover at a distance, into the Virgin +Mary, at my time of life? I love the poor ninny still. But +I adore our blessed Lady. Say you, 'a painter must not be peevish +in such matters.' Well, most painters are men: and men are fine +fellows. They can do aught. Their saints and virgins are neither +more nor less than their lemans, saving your presence. But know +that for this very reason half their craft is lost on me, which find +beneath their angels' white wings the very trollops I have seen +flaunting it on the streets, bejewelled like Paynim idols, and put +on like the queens in a pack o' cards. And I am not a fine fellow, +but only a woman, and my painting is but one half craft, and t'other +half devotion. So now you may read me. 'Twas foolish, maybe, +but I could not help it: yet am I sorry." And the old lady ended +despondently a discourse which she had commenced in a mighty +defiant tone.</p> + +<p>"Well, you know, dame," observed Catherine, "you must think +it would go to the poor girl's heart, and she so fond of ye?"</p> + +<p>Margaret Van Eyck only sighed.</p> + +<p>The Frisian girl, after biting her lips impatiently a little while, +turned upon Catherine. "Why, dame, think you 'twas for that +alone Margaret and Peter hath left Sevenberg? Nay."</p> + +<p>"For what else, then?"</p> + +<p>"What else? Why because Gerard's people slight her so cruel. +Who would bide among hard-hearted folk that ha' driven her lad +t'Italy, and, now he is gone, relent not, but face it out, and ne'er +come anigh her that is left?"</p> + +<p>"Reicht, I was going."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay, going, and going, and going. Ye should ha' said less +or else done more. But with your words you did uplift her heart +and let it down wi' your deeds. 'They have never been,' said the +poor thing to me, with such a sigh. Ay, here is <i>one</i> can feel for +her: for I too am far from my friends, and often, when first I +came to Holland, I did use to take a hearty cry all to myself. But +ten times liever would I be Reicht Heynes with nought but the +leagues atween me and all my kith, than be as she is i' the midst<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +of them that ought to warm to her, and yet to fare as lonesome as +I."</p> + +<p>"Alack, Reicht, I did go but yestreen, and had gone before, but +one plaguy thing or t'other did still come and hinder me."</p> + +<p>"Mistress, did aught hinder ye to eat your dinner any one of +those days? I trow not. And had your heart been as good towards +your own flesh and blood, as 'twas towards your flesher's +meat, nought had prevailed to keep you from her that sat lonely, a +watching the road for you and comfort, wi' your child's child a +beating 'neath her bosom."</p> + +<p>Here this rude young woman was interrupted by an incident not +uncommon in a domestic's bright existence. The Van Eyck had +been nettled by the attack on her, but with due tact had gone into +ambush. She now sprang out of it. "Since you disrespect my +guests, seek another place!"</p> + +<p>"With all my heart," said Reicht stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Nay, mistress," put in the good-natured Catherine. "True folk +will still speak out. Her tongue is a stinger." Here the water +came into the speaker's eyes by way of confirmation. "But better +she said it than thought it. So now 'twon't rankle in her. And, +part with her for me, that shall ye not. Beshrew the wench, she +kens she is a good servant, and takes advantage. We poor wretches +which keep house must still pay 'em tax for value. I had a good +servant once, when I was a young 'oman. Eh dear, how she did +grind me down into the dust. In the end, by Heaven's mercy, she +married the baker, and I was my own woman again. 'So,' said +I, 'no more good servants shall come hither, a hectoring o' me.' I +just get a fool and learn her: and whenever she knoweth her right +hand from her left, she sauceth me: then out I bundle her neck and +crop, and take another dunce in her place. Dear heart, 'tis wearisome, +teaching a string of fools by ones; but there—I am mistress:" +here she forgot that she was defending Reicht, and turning rather +spitefully upon her, added, "and you be mistress here, I trow."</p> + +<p>"No more than that stool," said the Van Eyck, loftily. "She +is neither mistress nor servant: but Gone. She is dismissed the +house, and there's an end of <i>her</i>. What did ye not hear me turn +the saucy baggage off?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay. We all heard ye," said Reicht, with vast indifference.</p> + +<p>"Then hear me!" said Denys, solemnly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span></p> + +<p>They all went round like things on wheels, and fastened their +eyes on him.</p> + +<p>"Ay, let us hear what the man says," urged the hostess. "Men +are fine fellows; with their great hoarse voices."</p> + +<p>"Mistress Reicht," said Denys, with great dignity and ceremony, +indeed so great as to verge on the absurd, "you are turned off. If +on a slight acquaintance I might advise, I'd say, since you are a +servant no more, be a mistress, a queen."</p> + +<p>"Easier said than done," replied Reicht bluntly.</p> + +<p>"Not a jot. You see here one who is a man, though but half an +arbalestrier, owing to that devilish Englishman's arrow, in whose +carcass I have, however, left a like token, which is a comfort. I +have twenty gold pieces" (he showed them) "and a stout arm. In +another week or so I shall have twain. Marriage is not a habit of +mine: but I capitulate to so many virtues. You are beautiful, good +hearted, and outspoken, and above all, you take the part of my she-comrade. +Be then an arbalestriesse!"</p> + +<p>"And what the dickens is that?" inquired Reicht.</p> + +<p>"I mean, be the wife, mistress, and queen, of Denys of Burgundy +here present!"</p> + +<p>A dead silence fell on all.</p> + +<p>It did not last long though: and was followed by a burst of unreasonable +indignation.</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Well, did you ever?"</p> + +<p><i>Margaret.</i>] "Never in all my born days."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Before our very faces."</p> + +<p><i>Margaret.</i>] "Of all the absurdity, and insolence of this ridiculous +sex——"</p> + +<p>Here Denys observed somewhat drily, that the female to whom +he had addressed himself was mute; and the others, on whose eloquence +there was no immediate demand, were fluent: on this the +voices stopped, and the eyes turned pivot-like upon Reicht.</p> + +<p>She took a sly glance from under her lashes at her military +assailant, and said, "I mean to take a good look at any man ere I +leap into his arms."</p> + +<p>Denys drew himself up majestically. "Then look your fill, and +leap away."</p> + +<p>This proposal led to a new and most unexpected result. A long +white finger was extended by the Van Eyck in a line with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> +speaker's eye, and an agitated voice bade him stand, in the name of +all the saints. "You are beautiful, so," cried she. "You are inspired—with +folly. What matters that? you are inspired. I must +take off your head." And in a moment she was at work with her +pencil. "Come out, hussy," she screamed to Reicht; "more in +front of him, and keep the fool inspired and beautiful. Oh, why +had I not this maniac for my good centurion? They went and +brought me a brute with a low forehead and a shapeless beard."</p> + +<p>Catherine stood and looked with utter amazement at this pantomime, +and secretly resolved that her venerable hostess had been a +disguised lunatic all this time, and was now busy throwing off the +mask. As for Reicht, she was unhappy and cross. She had left +her caldron in a precarious state, and made no scruple to say so, +and that duties so grave as hers left her no "time to waste a playing +the statee and the fool all at one time." Her mistress in reply +reminded her that it was possible to be rude and rebellious to one's +poor old, affectionate, desolate mistress, without being utterly heartless, +and savage; and a trampler on arts.</p> + +<p>On this Reicht stopped, and pouted, and looked like a little +basilisk at the inspired model who caused her woe. He retorted +with unshaken admiration. The situation was at last dissolved +by the artist's wrist becoming cramped from disuse; this was not, +however, until she had made a rough but noble sketch. "I can work +no more at present," said she, sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>"Then, mistress, I may go and mind my pot?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, go to your pot! And get into it, do; you will find your +soul in it: so then you will all be together."</p> + +<p>"Well, but Reicht," said Catherine, laughing, "she turned you +off."</p> + +<p>"Boo, boo, boo!" said Reicht, contemptuously. "When she wants +to get rid of me, let her turn herself off and die. I am sure she +is old enough for't. But take your time, mistress; if you are in +no hurry, no more am I. When that day doth come, 'twill take a +man to dry my eyes: and if you should be in the same mind then, +soldier, you can say so; and if you are not, why, 'twill be all one to +Reicht Heynes."</p> + +<p>And the plain speaker went her way. But her words did not fall +to the ground. Neither of her female hearers could disguise from +herself that this blunt girl, solitary herself, had probably read<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> +Margaret Brandt aright, and that she had gone away from Sevenbergen +broken hearted.</p> + +<p>Catherine and Denys bade the Van Eyck adieu, and that same +afternoon Denys set out on a wild goose chase. His plan, like all +great things, was simple. He should go to a hundred towns and +villages, and ask in each after an old physician with a fair daughter, +and an old long-bow soldier. He should inquire of the burgomasters +about all new-comers, and should go to the fountains and +watch the women and girls as they came with their pitchers for +water.</p> + +<p>And away he went, and was months and months on the tramp +and could not find her.</p> + +<p>Happily, this chivalrous feat of friendship was in some degree +its own reward.</p> + +<p>Those, who sit at home blindfolded by self-conceit, and think +camel or man out of the depths of their inner consciousness, alas! +their ignorance, will tell you that in the intervals of war and danger, +peace and tranquil life acquire their true value and satisfy the +heroic mind. But those, who look before they babble or scribble, +will see, and say, that men, who risk their lives habitually, thirst +for exciting pleasures between the acts of danger, and not for innocent +tranquillity.</p> + +<p>To this Denys was no exception. His whole military life had +been half Sparta, half Capua. And he was too good a soldier, and +too good a libertine, to have ever mixed either habit with the other. +But now for the first time he found himself mixed; at peace and +yet on duty; for he took this latter view of his wild goose chase, +luckily. So all these months he was a demi-Spartan; sober, prudent, +vigilant, indomitable; and happy, though constantly disappointed, +as might have been expected. He flirted gigantically on +the road; but wasted no time about it. Nor in these his wanderings +did he tell a single female that "marriage was not one of his +habits, etc."</p> + +<p>And so we leave him on the tramp, "Pilgrim of Friendship," +as his poor comrade was of Love.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER L</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE good-hearted Catherine was not happy. Not that she +reproached herself very deeply for not having gone quickly +enough to Sevenbergen, whither she was not bound to go +at all—except on the score of having excited false hopes in Margaret. +But she was in dismay when she reflected that Gerard must reach +home in another month at farthest, more likely in a week. And how +should she tell him she had not even kept an eye upon his betrothed? +Then there was the uncertainty as to the girl's fate: and this uncertainty +sometimes took a sickening form.</div> + +<p>"Oh, Kate," she groaned, "if she should have gone and made herself +away."</p> + +<p>"Mother, she would never be so wicked."</p> + +<p>"Ah, my lass, you know not what hasty fools young lasses be, +that have no mothers to keep 'em straight. They will fling themselves +into the water for a man that the next man they meet would +ha' cured 'em of in a week. I have known 'em to jump in like brass +one moment and scream for help in the next. Couldn't know their +own minds ye see even such a trifle as yon. And then there's +times when their bodies ail like no other living creatures ever I +could hear of, and that strings up their feelings so, the patience, +that belongs to them at other times beyond all living souls barring +an ass, seems all to jump out of 'em at one turn, and into the water +they go. Therefore, I say that men are monsters."</p> + +<p>"Mother!"</p> + +<p>"Monsters, and no less, to go making such heaps o' canals just to +tempt the poor women in. They know we shall not cut our throats, +hating the sight of blood, and rating our skins a hantle higher nor +our lives; and as for hanging, while she is fixing of the nail and a +making of the noose she has time t'alter her mind. But a jump +into a canal is no more than into bed; and the water it does all the +lave, will ye, nill ye. Why, look at me, the mother o' nine, wasn't +I agog to make a hole in our canal for the nonce?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, mother, I'll never believe it of you."</p> + +<p>"Ye may, though. 'Twas in the first year of our keeping house +together. Eli hadn't found out my weak stitches then, nor I his;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +so we made a rent, pulling contrariwise; had a quarrel. So then I +ran crying, to tell some gabbling fool like myself what I had no +business to tell out o' doors except to the saints, and there was one +of our precious canals in the way; do they take us for teal? Oh, +how tempting it did look! Says I to myself, 'Sith he has let me +go out of his door quarrelled, he shall see me drowned next, and +then he will change his key. He will blubber a good one, and I +shall look down from heaven' (I forgot I should be in t'other part), +'and see him take on, and, oh, but that will be sweet!' and I was +all a tiptoe and going in, only just then I thought I wouldn't. I +had got a new gown a-making, for one thing, and hard upon finished. +So I went home instead, and what was Eli's first word? 'Let yon +flea stick i' the wall, my lass,' says he. 'Not a word of all I said +t' anger thee was sooth, but this: 'I love thee.' These were his +very words, I minded 'em, being the first quarrel. So I flung my +arms about his neck and sobbed a bit, and thought o' the canal; and +he was no colder to me than I to him, being a man and a young one: +and so then that was better than lying in the water; and spoiling +my wedding kirtle and my fine new shoon, old John Bush made +'em, that was uncle to him keeps the shop now. And what was my +grief to hers?"</p> + +<p>Little Kate hoped that Margaret loved her father too much to +think of leaving him so at his age. "He is father and mother and +all to her, you know."</p> + +<p>"Nay, Kate, they do forget all these things in a moment o' despair, +when the very sky seems black above them. I place more +faith in him that is unborn, than on him that is ripe for the grave, +to keep her out o' mischief. For certes it do go sore against us to +die when there's a little innocent a-pulling at our hearts to let un +live, and feeding at our very veins."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, keep up a good heart, mother." She added, that +very likely all these fears were exaggerated. She ended by solemnly +entreating her mother at all events not to persist in naming the +sex of Margaret's infant. It was so unlucky, all the gossips told +her; "dear heart, as if there were not as many girls born as +boys."</p> + +<p>This reflection, though not unreasonable, was met with clamour.</p> + +<p>"Have you the cruelty to threaten me with a girl!!? I want no +more girls, while I have you. What use would a lass be to me?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> +Can I set her on my knee and see my Gerard again as I can a boy? +I tell thee 'tis all settled."</p> + +<p>"How may that be?"</p> + +<p>"In my mind. And if I am to be disappointed i' the end, t'isn't +for you to disappoint me beforehand, telling me it is not to be a +child, but only a girl."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>All these anxieties, and, if I may be permitted, without disrespect +to the dead, to add, all this twaddle, that accompanied them, +were shortly suspended by an incident that struck nearer home; +made Tergou furiously jealous of Catherine, and Catherine weep. +And, if my reader is fond of wasting his time, as some novel readers +are, he cannot do it more effectually than by guessing what could +produce results so incongruous.</p> + +<p>Marched up to Eli's door a pageant brave to the eye of sense, +and to the vulgar judgment noble, but, to the philosophic, pitiable +more or less.</p> + +<p>It looked one animal, a centaur: but on severe analysis proved +two. The human half was sadly bedizened with those two metals, +to clothe his carcass with which and line his pouch, man has now +and then disposed of his soul: still the horse was the vainer brute +of the two; he was far worse beflounced, bebonneted, and bemantled, +than any fair lady regnante crinolinâ. For the man, under the +colour of a warming-pan, retained Nature's outline. But it was +"subaudi equum!" Scarce a pennyweight of honest horseflesh to +be seen. Our crinoline spares the noble parts of woman, and makes +but the baser parts gigantic (why this preference?): but this poor +animal from stem to stern was swamped in finery. His ears were +hid in great sheaths of white linen tipped with silver and blue. +His body swaddled in stiff gorgeous cloths descending to the ground, +except just in front, where they left him room to mince. His tail, +though dear to memory, no doubt, was lost to sight, being tucked in +heaven knows how. Only his eyes shone out like goggles, through +two holes pierced in the wall of haberdashery, and his little front +hoofs peeped in and out like rats.</p> + +<p>Yet did this compound, gorgeous and irrational, represent power; +absolute power: it came straight from a tournament at the duke's +court, which being on a progress, lay last night at a neighboring +town—to execute the behests of royalty.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What ho!" cried the upper half, and on Eli emerging, with +his wife behind him, saluted them. "Peace be with you, good +people. Rejoice! I am come for your dwarf."</p> + +<p>Eli looked amazed, and said nothing. But Catherine screamed +over his shoulder, "You have mistook your road, good man; here +abides no dwarf."</p> + +<p>"Nay, wife, he means our Giles, who is somewhat small of stature: +why gainsay what gainsayed may not be?"</p> + +<p>"Ay!" cried the pageant, "that is he, and discourseth like the big +tabor."</p> + +<p>"His breast is sound for that matter," said Catherine, sharply.</p> + +<p>"And prompt with his fists though at long odds."</p> + +<p>"Else how would the poor thing keep his head in such a world +as this?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis well said, dame. Art as ready with thy weapon as he; +art his mother, likely. So bring him forth and that presently. +See, they lead a stunted mule for him. The duke hath need of him; +sore need; we are clean out o' dwarven; and tigercats; which may not +be, whiles earth them yieldeth. Our last hop o' my thumb tumbled +down the well t'other day."</p> + +<p>"And think you I'll let my darling go to such an ill-guided house +as yon, where the reckless trollops of servants close not the well +mouth, but leave it open to trap innocents like wolven?"</p> + +<p>The representative of autocracy lost patience at this unwonted +opposition, and with stern look and voice bade her bethink her +whether it was the better of the two; "to have your abortion at court +fed like a bishop and put on like a prince, or to have all your heads +stricken off and borne on poles, with the bell-man crying, 'Behold +the heads of hardy rebels, which having by good luck a misbegotten +son, did traitorously grudge him to the duke, who is the true father +of all his folk, little or mickle?'"</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Eli, sadly, "miscall us not. We be true folk, and +neither rebels nor traitors. But 'tis sudden, and the poor lad is +our true flesh and blood, and hath of late given proof of more sense +than heretofore."</p> + +<p>"Avails not threatening our lives," whimpered Catherine, "we +grudge him not to the duke: but in sooth he cannot go: his linen +is all in holes. So there is an end."</p> + +<p>But the male mind resisted this crusher.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Think you the duke will not find linen, and cloth of gold to +boot? None so brave, none so affected, at court, as our monsters, +big or wee."</p> + +<p>How long the dispute might have lasted, before the iron arguments +of despotism achieved the inevitable victory, I know not; but +it was cut short by a party whom neither disputant had deigned to +consult.</p> + +<p>The bone of contention walked out of the house, and sided with +monarchy.</p> + +<p>"If my folk are mad, I am not," he roared. "I'll go with you, +and on the instant."</p> + +<p>At this Catherine set up a piteous cry. She saw another of her +brood escaping from under her wing into some unknown element. +Giles was not quite insensible to her distress so simple yet so eloquent. +He said, "Nay take not on, mother! Why 'tis a godsend. +And I am sick of this ever since Gerard left it."</p> + +<p>"Ah, cruel Giles! Should ye not rather say she is bereaved +of Gerard: the more need of you to stay aside her and comfort +her!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! I am not going to Rome. Not such a fool I shall never be +farther than Rotterdam: and I'll often come and see you; and, if +I like not the place, who shall keep me there? Not all the dukes +in Christendom."</p> + +<p>"Good sense lies in little bulk," said the emissary approvingly. +"Therefore, master Giles, buss the old folk, and thank them for +misbegetting of thee, and—ho! you—bring hither his mule!"</p> + +<p>One of his retinue brought up the dwarf mule. Giles refused +it with scorn. And, on being asked the reason, said it was not +just. "What would ye throw all into one scale? Put muckle to +muckle, and little to wee? Besides I hate and scorn small things. +I'll go on the highest horse here, or not at all."</p> + +<p>The pursuivant eyed him attentively a moment. He then +adopted a courteous manner. "I shall study your will in all things +reasonable. (Dismount, Eric, yours is the highest horse.) And +if you would halt in the town an hour or so, while you bid them +farewell, say but the word, and your pleasure shall be my delight."</p> + +<p>Giles reflected.</p> + +<p>"Master," said he, "if we wait a month 'twill be still the same: my +mother is a good soul, but her body is bigger than her spirit. We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +shall not part without a tear or two, and the quicker 'tis done the +fewer; so, bring yon horse to me."</p> + +<p>Catherine threw her apron over her face and sobbed. The high +horse was brought, and Giles was for swarming up his tail, like a +rope; but one of the servants cried out hastily "forbear, for he +kicketh." "I'll kick him," said Giles. "Bring him close beneath +this window, and I'll learn you all how to mount a horse which +kicketh, and will not be clomb by the tail, the staircase of an horse." +And he dashed into the house and almost immediately reappeared +at an upper window with a rope in his hand. He fastened an end +somehow and holding the other descended as swift and smooth as +an oiled thunderbolt in a groove; and lighted astride his high horse +as unperceived by that animal as a fly settling on him.</p> + +<p>The official lifted his hands to heaven in mawkish admiration. +"I have gotten a pearl," thought he; "and wow but this will be a +good day's work for me."</p> + +<p>"Come, father, come, mother, buss me, and bless me, and off I +go."</p> + +<p>Eli gave him his blessing, and bade him be honest and true, and +a credit to his folk. Catherine could not speak, but clung to him +with many sobs and embraces; and even through the mist of tears +her eye detected in a moment a little rent in his sleeve he had made +getting out of window, and she whipped out her needle and +mended it then and there, and her tears fell on his arm the while, +unheeded—except by those unfleshly eyes, with which they say the +very air is thronged.</p> + +<p>And so the dwarf mounted the high horse, and rode away complacent, +with the old hand laying the court butter on his back with +a trowel. Little recked Perpusillus of two poor silly females that +sat by the bereaved hearth, rocking themselves, and weeping, and +discussing all his virtues, and how his mind had opened lately, and +blind as two beetles to his faults, who rode away from them jocund +and bold,</p> + +<p>Ingentes animos angusto pectore versans.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Arrived at court he speedily became a great favourite.</p> + +<p>One strange propensity of his electrified the palace: but, on +account of his small size, and for variety's sake, and as a monster, +he was indulged on it. In a word he was let speak the truth.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span></p> + +<p>It is an unpopular thing.</p> + +<p>He made it an intolerable one.</p> + +<p>Bawled it.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>MARGARET BRANDT had always held herself apart +from Sevenbergen; and her reserve had passed for pride; +this had come to her ears, and she knew many hearts +were swelling with jealousy and malevolence. How would they +triumph over her when her condition could no longer be concealed! +This thought gnawed her night and day. For some time it had +made her bury herself in the house, and shun daylight even on +those rare occasions when she went abroad.</div> + +<p>Not that in her secret heart and conscience she mistook her moral +situation, as my unlearned readers have done perhaps. Though not +acquainted with the nice distinctions of the contemporary law, +she knew that betrothal was a marriage contract, and could no +more be legally broken on either side than any other compact written +and witnessed: and that marriage with another party than the +betrothed had been formally annulled both by Church and State; +and that betrothed couples often came together without any further +ceremony, and their children were legitimate.</p> + +<p>But what weighed down her simple mediæval mind was this: +that very contract of betrothal was not forthcoming. Instead of +her keeping it, Gerard had got it, and Gerard was far, far away. She +hated and despised herself for the miserable oversight, which had +placed her at the mercy of false opinion.</p> + +<p>For though she had never heard of Horace's famous couplet +<i>Segnius irritant</i>, &c., she was Horatian by the plain, hard, positive +intelligence, which strange to say characterizes the judgment of her +sex, when feeling happens not to blind it altogether. She gauged +the understanding of the world to a T. Her marriage lines being +out of sight, and in Italy, would never prevail to balance her visible +pregnancy, and the sight of her child when born. What sort of a +tale was this to stop slanderous tongues? "I have got my marriage +lines, but I cannot show them you." What woman would +believe her? or even pretend to believe her? And, as she was in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> +reality one of the most modest girls in Holland, it was women's +good opinion she wanted, not men's.</p> + +<p>Even barefaced slander attacks her sex at a great advantage; but +here was slander with a face of truth. "The strong-minded woman" +had not yet been invented; and Margaret, though by nature and by +having been early made mistress of a family, she was resolute in +some respects, was weak as water in others, and weakest of all in this. +Like all the élite of her sex she was a poor little leaf trembling at +each gust of the world's opinion, true or false. Much misery may +be contained in few words; I doubt if pages of description from +any man's pen could make any human creature, except virtuous +women (and these need no such aid) realize the anguish of a virtuous +woman foreseeing herself paraded as a frail one. Had she +been frail at heart, she might have brazened it out. But she had +not that advantage. She was really pure as snow, and saw the +pitch coming nearer her and nearer. The poor girl sat listless +hours at a time, and moaned with inner anguish. And often, +when her father was talking to her and she giving mechanical replies, +suddenly her cheek would burn like fire, and the old man +would wonder what he had said to discompose her. Nothing. +His words were less than air to her. It was the ever present dread +sent the colour of shame into her burning cheek, no matter what +she seemed to be talking and thinking about. But both shame and +fear rose to a climax when she came back that night from Margaret +Van Eyck's. Her condition was discovered, and by persons of her +own sex. The old artist, secluded like herself, might not betray her: +but Catherine, a gossip in the centre of a family, and a thick +neighbourhood? One spark of hope remained. Catherine had +spoken kindly, even lovingly. The situation admitted no half +course. Gerard's mother thus roused must either be her best friend +or worst enemy. She waited then in racking anxiety to hear more. +No word came. She gave up hope. Catherine was not going to +be her friend. Then she would expose her, since she had no strong +and kindly feeling to balance the natural love of babbling.</p> + +<p>Then it was, the wish to fly from this neighbourhood began to +grow and gnaw upon her, till it became a wild and passionate desire. +But how persuade her father to this? Old people cling to +places. He was very old and infirm to change his abode. There +was no course but to make him her confidant; better so than to run<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> +away from him: and she felt that would be the alternative. And +now between her uncontrollable desire to fly and hide, and her invincible +aversion to speak out to a man, even to her father, she vibrated +in a suspense full of lively torture. And presently betwixt +these two came in one day the fatal thought "end all!" Things foolishly +worded are not always foolish; one of poor Catherine's bugbears, +these numerous canals, did sorely tempt this poor fluctuating +girl. She stood on the bank one afternoon, and eyed the calm deep +water. It seemed an image of repose, and she was so harassed. No +more trouble. No more fear of shame. If Gerard had not loved +her, I doubt she had ended there.</p> + +<p>As it was, she kneeled by the waterside, and prayed fervently +to God to keep such wicked thoughts from her. "Oh! selfish wretch," +said she, "to leave thy father. Oh wicked wretch to kill thy child, +and make thy poor Gerard lose all his pain and peril undertaken for +thy sight. I will tell father all, ay ere this sun shall set." And +she went home with eager haste lest her good resolution should +ooze out ere she got there.</p> + +<p>Now in matters domestic the learned Peter was simple as a child, +and Margaret from the age of sixteen had governed the house gently +but absolutely. It was therefore a strange thing in this house, the +faltering irresolute way in which its young but despotic mistress +addressed that person, who in a domestic sense was less important +than Martin Wittenhaagen, or even than the little girl, who came in +the morning and for a pittance washed the vessels, &c., and went +home at night.</p> + +<p>"Father, I would speak to thee."</p> + +<p>"Speak on, girl."</p> + +<p>"Wilt listen to me? And—and—not—and try to excuse my faults."</p> + +<p>"We have all our faults, Margaret, thou no more than the rest +of us; but fewer, unless parental feeling blinds me."</p> + +<p>"Alas, no, father: I am a poor foolish girl, that would fain do +well, but have done ill, most ill, most unwisely: and now must bear +the shame. But, father, I love you, with all my faults, and will +not you forgive my folly, and still love your motherless girl?"</p> + +<p>"That ye may count on," said Peter, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, well, smile not. For then how can I speak and make you +sad?"</p> + +<p>"Why, what is the matter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Father, disgrace is coming on this house: it is at the door. And +I the culprit. Oh, father, turn your head away. I—I—father, +I have let Gerard take away my marriage lines."</p> + +<p>"Is that all? 'Twas an oversight."</p> + +<p>"'Twas the deed of a mad woman. But woe is me! that is not +the worst."</p> + +<p>Peter interrupted her. "The youth is honest, and loves you +dear. You are young. What is a year or two to you? Gerard +will assuredly come back and keep troth."</p> + +<p>"And meantime, know you what is coming?"</p> + +<p>"Not I, except that I shall be gone first for one."</p> + +<p>"Worse than that. There is worse pain than death. Nay, for +pity's sake, turn away your head, father."</p> + +<p>"Foolish wench!" muttered Peter, but turned his head.</p> + +<p>She trembled violently, and with her cheeks on fire began to +falter out, "I did look on Gerard as my husband—we being betrothed—and +he was in so sore danger, and I thought I had killed him, +and I— Oh, if you were but my mother I might find courage: you +would question me. But you say not a word."</p> + +<p>"Why, Margaret, what is all this coil about? and why are thy +cheeks crimson, speaking to no stranger but to thy old father?"</p> + +<p>"Why are my cheeks on fire? Because—because—Father, kill +me! send me to heaven! bid Martin shoot me with his arrow! And +then the gossips will come and tell you why I blush so this day. +And then, when I am dead, I hope you will love your girl again for +her mother's sake."</p> + +<p>"Give me thy hand, mistress," said Peter, a little sternly.</p> + +<p>She put it out to him trembling. He took it gently, and began +with some anxiety in his face to feel her pulse.</p> + +<p>"Alas, nay!" said she. "'Tis my soul that burns, not +my body with fever. I cannot, will not, bide in Sevenbergen." +And she wrung her hands impatiently.</p> + +<p>"Be calm now," said the old man, soothingly, "nor torment thyself +for nought. Not bide in Sevenbergen? What need to bide a +day, as it vexes thee, and puts thee in a fever: for fevered thou art, +deny it not."</p> + +<p>"What!" cried Margaret, "would you yield to go hence, and—and +ask no reason but my longing to be gone?" and, suddenly throwing +herself on her knees beside him, in a fervour of supplication<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347">[347]</a></span> +she clutched his sleeve, and then his arm, and then his shoulder, +while imploring him to quit this place, and not ask her why. "Alas! +what needs it? You will soon see it. And I could never say it. +I would liever die."</p> + +<p>"Foolish child! Who seeks thy girlish secrets? Is it I, whose +life hath been spent in searching Nature's? And, for leaving +Sevenbergen, what is there to keep me in it, thee unwilling? Is +there respect for me here, or gratitude? Am I not yclept quacksalver +by those that come not near me, and wizard by those I heal? +And give they not the guerdon and the honour they deny me, to +the empirics that slaughter them? Besides, what is't to me where +we sojourn? Choose thou that, as did thy mother before thee."</p> + +<p>Margaret embraced him tenderly, and wept upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>She was respited.</p> + +<p>Yet as she wept, respited, she almost wished she had had the +courage to tell him.</p> + +<p>After a while nothing would content him but her taking a medicament +he went and brought her. She took it submissively, to +please him. It was the least she could do. It was a composing +draught, and though administered under an error, and a common +one, did her more good than harm: she awoke calmed by a long +sleep, and that very day began her preparations.</p> + +<p>Next week they went to Rotterdam, bag and baggage, and lodged +above a tailor's shop in the Brede-Kirk Straet.</p> + +<p>Only one person in Tergou knew whither they were gone.</p> + +<p>The Burgomaster.</p> + +<p>He locked the information in his own breast.</p> + +<p>The use he made of it ere long, my reader will not easily divine: +for he did not divine it himself.</p> + +<p>But time will show.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>AMONG strangers Margaret Brandt was comparatively +happy. And soon a new and unexpected cause of content +arose. A civic dignitary being ill, and fanciful in proportion, +went from doctor to doctor; and having arrived at Death's +door, sent for Peter. Peter found him bled and purged to nothing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +He flung a battalion of bottles out of the window, and left it open; +beat up yolks of eggs in neat Schiedam, and administered it in small +doses: followed this up by meat stewed in red wine and water, shredding +into both mild febrifugal herbs, that did no harm. Finally, +his patient got about again, looking something between a man and +a pillow-case, and being a voluble dignitary, spread Peter's fame in +every street; and that artist, who had long merited a reputation in +vain, made one rapidly by luck. Things looked bright. The old +man's pride was cheered at last, and his purse began to fill. He +spent much of his gain, however, in sovereign herbs and choice +drugs, and would have so invested them all, but Margaret white-mailed +a part. The victory came too late. Its happy excitement +was fatal.</div> + +<p>One evening, in bidding her good-night, his voice seemed rather +inarticulate.</p> + +<p>The next morning he was found speechless, and only just sensible.</p> + +<p>Margaret, who had been for years her father's attentive pupil, +saw at once that he had had a paralytic stroke. But not trusting +to herself, she ran for a doctor. One of those, who, obstructed +by Peter, had not killed the civic dignitary, came, and +cheerfully confirmed her views. He was for bleeding the patient. +She declined. "He was always against blooding," said she, "especially +the old." Peter lived, but was never the same man again. +His memory became much affected, and of course he was not +to be trusted to prescribe: and several patients had come, and +one or two, that were bent on being cured by the new doctor and no +other, awaited his convalescence. Misery stared her in the face. +She resolved to go for advice and comfort to her cousin William +Johnson, from whom she had hitherto kept aloof out of pride and +poverty. She found him and his servant sitting in the same room, +and neither of them the better for liquor. Mastering all signs +of surprise, she gave her greetings, and presently told him she +had come to talk on a family matter, and with this glanced quietly +at the servant by way of hint. The woman took it, but not as expected.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you can speak before me, can she not, my old man?"</p> + +<p>At this familiarity Margaret turned very red, and said,—</p> + +<p>"I cry your mercy, mistress. I knew not my cousin had fallen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> +into the custom of this town. Well, I must take a fitter opportunity"; +and she rose to go.</p> + +<p>"I wot not what ye mean by custom o' the town," said the woman, +bouncing up. "But this I know: 'tis the part of a faithful servant +to keep her master from being preyed on by his beggarly +kin."</p> + +<p>Margaret retorted: "Ye are too modest, mistress. Ye are no +servant. Your speech betrays you. 'Tis not till the ape hath +mounted the tree that she shows her tail so plain. Nay, there sits +the servant; God help him! And while so it is, fear not thou +his kin will ever be so poor in spirit, as come where the likes of you +can flout their dole." And casting one look of mute reproach +at her cousin for being so little of a man as to sit passive and +silent all this time, she turned and went haughtily out; nor would +she shed a single tear till she got home and thought of it. And now +here were two men to be lodged and fed by one pregnant girl; and +another mouth coming into the world.</p> + +<p>But this last, though the most helpless of all, was their best +friend.</p> + +<p>Nature was strong in Margaret Brandt; that same nature which +makes the brutes, the birds and the insects, so cunning at providing +food and shelter for their progeny yet to come.</p> + +<p>Stimulated by nature she sat and brooded, and brooded, and +thought, and thought, how to be beforehand with destitution. Ay, +though she had still five gold pieces left, she saw starvation coming +with inevitable foot.</p> + +<p>Her sex, when, deviating from custom, it thinks with male +intensity, thinks just as much to the purpose as we do. She +rose, bade Martin move Peter to another room, made her own very +neat and clean, polished the glass globe, and suspended it from +the ceiling, dusted the crocodile and nailed him to the outside +wall: and, after duly instructing Martin, set him to play the lounging +sentinel about the street door, and tell the crocodile-bitten +that a great, and aged, and learned alchymist abode there, who in +his moments of recreation would sometimes amuse himself by curing +mortal diseases.</p> + +<p>Patients soon came, and were received by Margaret, and demanded +to see the leech. "That might not be. He was deep in his studies, +searching for the grand elixir, and not princes could have speech of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> +him. They must tell her their symptoms, and return in two hours." +And, oh! mysterious powers! when they did return, the drug or +draught was always ready for them. Sometimes, when it was a +worshipful patient, she would carefully scan his face, and feeling +both pulse and skin, as well as hearing his story, would go softly +with it to Peter's room; and there think and ask herself how her +father, whose system she had long quietly observed, would have +treated the case. Then she would write an illegible scrawl with +a cabalistic letter, and bring it down, reverentially, and show it the +patient, and "Could he read that?" Then it would be either "I +am no reader," or, with admiration, "Nay mistress, nought can I +make on't."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but I can. 'Tis sovereign. Look on thyself as cured!" +If she had the materials by her, and she was too good an economist +not to favour somewhat those medicines she had in her own +stock, she would sometimes let the patient see her compound it, +often and anxiously consulting the sacred prescription lest great +Science should suffer in her hands. And so she would send them +away relieved of cash, but with their pockets full of medicine, and +minds full of faith, and humbugged to their heart's content. +<i>Populus vult decipi.</i> And when they were gone, she would take +down two little boxes Gerard had made her; and on one of these +she had written <i>To-day</i>, and on the other <i>To-morrow</i>, and put the +smaller coins into "To-day," and the larger into "To-morrow," +along with such of her gold pieces as had survived the journey +from Sevenbergen, and the expenses of housekeeping in a strange +place. And so she met current expenses, and laid by for the rainy +day she saw coming, and mixed drugs with simples, and vice with +virtue. On this last score her conscience pricked her sore, and +after each day's comedy, she knelt down and prayed God to forgive +her "for the sake of her child." But lo and behold cure after +cure was reported to her: so then her conscience began to harden. +Martin Wittenhaagen had of late been a dead weight on her hands. +Like most men who have endured great hardships, he had stiffened +rather suddenly. But, though less supple, he was as strong as ever, +and at his own pace could have carried the doctor herself round +Rotterdam city. He carried her slops instead.</p> + +<p>In this new business he showed the qualities of a soldier: unreasoning +obedience, punctuality, accuracy, despatch and drunkenness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span></p> + +<p>He fell among "good fellows"; the blackguards plied him with +Schiedam; he babbled, he bragged.</p> + +<p>Doctor Margaret had risen very high in his estimation. All +this brandishing of a crocodile for a standard, and setting a dotard +in ambush, and getting rid of slops, and taking good money in exchange, +struck him not as Science but something far superior, +Strategy. And he boasted in his cups and before a mixed company +how "me and my General we are a biting of the burghers."</p> + +<p>When this revelation had had time to leaven the city, his General, +Doctor Margaret, received a call from the constables: they took her, +trembling and begging subordinate machines to forgive her, before +the burgomaster; and by his side stood real physicians, a terrible +row, in long robes and square caps, accusing her of practising unlawfully +on the bodies of the duke's lieges. At first she was too +frightened to say a word. Novice like, the very name of "Law" +paralyzed her. But being questioned closely, but not so harshly as +if she had been ugly, she told the truth; she had long been her +father's pupil, and had but followed his system, and she had cured +many; "and it is not for myself in very deed, sirs, but I have two +poor helpless honest men at home upon my hands, and how else can +I keep them? Ah, good sirs, let a poor girl make her bread honestly; +ye hinder them not to make it idly and shamefully: and oh, sirs, +ye are husbands, ye are fathers; ye cannot but see I have reason +to work and provide as best I may"; and ere this woman's appeal +had left her lips, she would have given the world to recall it, +and stood with one hand upon her heart and one before her face, +hiding it, but not the tears that trickled underneath it. All which +went to the wrong address. Perhaps a female bailiff might have +yielded to such arguments, and bade her practise medicine, and +break law, till such time as her child should be weaned, and no +longer.</p> + +<p>"What have we to do with that," said the burgomaster, "save and +except that if thou wilt pledge thyself to break the law no more, +I will remit the imprisonment, and exact but the fine."</p> + +<p>On this Doctor Margaret clasped her hands together, and vowed +most pentitently never, never, never, to cure body or beast again; +and being dismissed with the constables to pay the fine, she turned +at the door, and curtsied, poor soul, and thanked the gentlemen +for their forbearance.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span></p> + +<p>And to pay the fine the "to-morrow box" must be opened on the +instant; and with excess of caution she had gone and nailed it up, +that no slight temptation might prevail to open it. And now she +could not draw the nails, and the constables grew impatient, and +doubted its contents, and said, "Let us break it for you." But she +would not let them. "Ye will break it worse than I shall." And +she took a hammer, and struck too faintly, and lost all strength for a +minute, and wept hysterically; and at last she broke it, and a little +cry broke from her when it broke: and she paid the fine, and it +took all her unlawful gains and two gold pieces to boot; and, +when the men were gone, she drew the broken pieces of the box, and +what little money they had left her, all together on the table, and +her arms went round them, and her rich hair escaped and fell +down all loose, and she bowed her forehead on the wreck, and sobbed, +"My love's box it is broken, and my heart withal"; and so remained. +And Martin Wittenhaagen came in, and she could not lift her head, +but sighed out to him what had befallen her, ending, "My love his +box is broken, and so mine heart is broken."</p> + +<p>And Martin was not so sad as wroth. Some traitor had betrayed +him. What stony heart had told and brought her to this +pass? Whoever it was should feel his arrow's point. The curious +attitude in which he must deliver the shaft never occurred to him.</p> + +<p>"Idle chat! idle chat!" moaned Margaret, without lifting her +brow from the table. "When you have slain all the gossips in this +town, can we eat them? Tell me how to keep you all, or prithee +hold thy peace, and let the saints get leave to whisper me." Martin +held his tongue, and cast uneasy glances at his defeated General.</p> + +<p>Towards evening she rose, and washed her face and did up her +hair, and doggedly bade Martin take down the crocodile, and put +out a basket instead.</p> + +<p>"I can get up linen better than they seem to do it in this street," +said she, "and you must carry it in the basket."</p> + +<p>"That will I for thy sake," said the soldier.</p> + +<p>"Good Martin! forgive me that I spake shrewishly to thee."</p> + +<p>Even while they were talking came a male for advice. Margaret +told it the mayor had interfered and forbidden her to sell drugs. +"But," said she, "I will gladly iron and starch your linen for you, +and—I will come and fetch it from your house."</p> + +<p>"Are ye mad, young woman?" said the male. "I come for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353">[353]</a></span> +leech, and ye proffer me a washerwoman;" and it went out in dudgeon.</p> + +<p>"There is a stupid creature," said Margaret sadly.</p> + +<p>Presently came a female to tell the symptoms of her sick child. +Margaret stopped it.</p> + +<p>"We are forbidden by the bailiff to sell drugs. But I will gladly +wash, iron, and starch your linen for you—and—I will come and +fetch it from your house."</p> + +<p>"Oh, ay," said the female. "Well, I have some smocks and ruffs +foul. Come for them; and when you <i>are</i> there, you can look at the +boy"; and it told her where it lived, and when its husband would +be out; yet it was rather fond of its husband than not.</p> + +<p>An introduction is an introduction. And two or three patients, +out of all those who came and were denied medicine, made Doctor +Margaret their washerwoman.</p> + +<p>"Now, Martin, you must help. I'll no more cats than can slay +mice."</p> + +<p>"Mistress, the stomach is not a wanting for't, but the head-piece, +worse luck."</p> + +<p>"Oh! I mean not the starching and ironing; that takes a woman +and a handy one. But the bare washing; a man can surely contrive +that. Why, a mule has wit enough in's head to do't with +his hoofs, an ye could drive him into the tub. Come, off doublet, +and try."</p> + +<p>"I am your man," said the brave old soldier, stripping for the +unwonted toil. "I'll risk my arm in soapsuds, an' you will risk your +glory."</p> + +<p>"My what?"</p> + +<p>"Your glory and honour as a—washerwoman."</p> + +<p>"Gramercy! if you are man enough to bring me half-washed +linen t'iron, I am woman enough to fling't back i' the suds."</p> + +<p>And so the brave girl, and the brave soldier, worked with a will, +and kept the wolf from the door. More they could not do. Margaret +had repaired "the to-morrow box," and, as she leaned over +the glue, her tears mixed with it, and she cemented her exiled +lover's box with them, at which a smile is allowable, but an intelligent +smile tipped with pity, please, and not the empty guffaw of +the nineteenth-century-jackass, burlesquing Bibles, and making fun +of all things except fun. But when mended it stood unreplenished.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span></p> + +<p>They kept the weekly rent paid, and the pot boiling, but no more.</p> + +<p>And now came a concatenation. Recommended from one to another, +Margaret washed for the mayor. And bringing home the +clean linen one day she heard in the kitchen that his worship's +only daughter was stricken with disease, and not like to live. Poor +Margaret could not help cross-questioning, and a female servant +gave her such of the symptoms as she had observed. But they were +too general. However, one gossip would add one fact, and another +another. And Margaret pondered them all.</p> + +<p>At last one day she met the mayor himself. He recognized her +directly. "Why, you are the unlicensed doctor." "I was," said she, +"but now I'm your worship's washerwoman." The dignitary +coloured, and said that was rather a come down.</p> + +<p>"Nay, I bear no malice; for your worship might have been harder. +Rather would I do you a good turn. Sir, you have a sick daughter. +Let me see her."</p> + +<p>The mayor shook his head. "That cannot be. The law I do enforce +on others I may not break myself." Margaret opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Alack, sir, I seek no guerdon now for curing folk; why, I am +a washerwoman. I trow one may heal all the world, an if one will +but let the world starve one in return." "That is no more than +just," said the mayor: he added, "an ye make no trade on't; there +is no offence." "Then let me see her."</p> + +<p>"What avails it? The learnedst leeches in Rotterdam have all +seen her, and bettered her nought. Her ill is inscrutable. One +skilled wight saith spleen; another, liver; another, blood; another, +stomach; and another, that she is possessed: and, in very truth, +she seems to have a demon; shunneth all company; pineth alone; +eateth no more victuals than might diet a sparrow. Speaketh seldom, +nor hearkens them that speak, and weareth thinner and paler +and nearer and nearer the grave, well-a-day." "Sir," said Margaret, +"an if you take your velvet doublet to half a dozen of shops in +Rotterdam, and speer is this fine or sorry velvet, and worth how +much the ell, those six traders will eye it and feel it, and all be in +one story to a letter. And why? Because they know their trade. +And your leeches are all in different stories. Why? Because they +know not their trade. I have heard my father say each is enamoured +of some one evil, and seeth it with his bat's eyn in every patient. +Had they stayed at home, and ne'er seen your daughter, they had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> +answered all the same, spleen, blood, stomach, lungs, liver, lunacy, +or, as they call it, possession. Let me see her. We are of a sex, +and that is much." And when he still hesitated, "Saints of Heaven!" +cried she, giving way to the irritability of a breeding woman, "is +this how men love their own flesh and blood? Her mother had +ta'en me in her arms ere this, and carried me to the sick room." +And two violet eyes flashed fire.</p> + +<p>"Come with me," said the mayor, hastily.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Mistress, I have brought thee a new doctor."</p> + +<p>The person addressed, a pale young girl of eighteen, gave a contemptuous +wrench of her shoulder, and turned more decidedly to the +fire she was sitting over.</p> + +<p>Margaret came softly and sat beside her. "But 'tis one that will +not torment you."</p> + +<p>"A woman!" exclaimed the young lady, with surprise and some +contempt.</p> + +<p>"Tell her your symptoms."</p> + +<p>"What for? You will be no wiser."</p> + +<p>"You will be none the worse."</p> + +<p>"Well, I have no stomach for food, and no heart for anything. +Now cure me, and go."</p> + +<p>"Patience awhile! Your food, is it tasteless like in your mouth?"</p> + +<p>"Ay. How knew you that?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I knew it not till you did tell me. I trow you would +be better for a little good company."</p> + +<p>"I trow not. What is their silly chat to me?"</p> + +<p>Here Margaret requested the father to leave them alone: and in +his absence put some practical questions. Then she reflected.</p> + +<p>"When you wake i' the morning you find yourself quiver, as +one may say?"</p> + +<p>"Nay. Ay. How knew you that?"</p> + +<p>"Shall I dose you, or shall I but tease you a bit with my 'silly +chat'?"</p> + +<p>"Which you will."</p> + +<p>"Then I will tell you a story. 'Tis about two true lovers."</p> + +<p>"I hate to hear of lovers," said the girl; "nevertheless canst +tell me, 'twill be less nauseous than your physic—maybe."</p> + +<p>Margaret then told her a love story. The maiden was a girl<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> +called Ursel, and the youth one Conrad; she an old physician's +daughter, he the son of a hosier at Tergou. She told their adventures, +their troubles, their sad condition. She told it from the +female point of view, and in a sweet and winning and earnest +voice, that by degrees soon laid hold of this sullen heart, and held +it breathless; and when she broke it off her patient was much disappointed.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, I must hear the end. I will hear it."</p> + +<p>"Ye cannot, for I know it not; none knoweth that but God."</p> + +<p>"Ah, your Ursel was a jewel of worth," said the girl earnestly. +"Would she were here."</p> + +<p>"Instead of her that is here."</p> + +<p>"I say not that;" and she blushed a little.</p> + +<p>"You do but think it."</p> + +<p>"Thought is free. Whether or no, an she were here, I'd give her +a buss, poor thing."</p> + +<p>"Then give it me, for I am she."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, that I'll be sworn y' are not."</p> + +<p>"Say not so; in very truth I am she. And prithee, sweet mistress, +go not from your word, but give me the buss ye promised me, and +with a good heart, for oh, my own heart lies heavy: heavy as thine, +sweet mistress."</p> + +<p>The young gentlewoman rose and put her arms round Margaret's +neck and kissed her. "I am woe for you," she sighed. "You are a +good soul; you have done me good—a little." (A gulp came in +her throat.) "Come again! come often!"</p> + +<p>Margaret did come again, and talked with her, and gently, but +keenly, watched what topics interested her, and found there was but +one. Then she said to the mayor, "I know your daughter's trouble, +and 'tis curable."</p> + +<p>"What is't? the blood?"</p> + +<p>"Nay."</p> + +<p>"The stomach?"</p> + +<p>"Nay."</p> + +<p>"The liver?"</p> + +<p>"Nay."</p> + +<p>"The foul fiend?"</p> + +<p>"Nay."</p> + +<p>"What then?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Love."</p> + +<p>"Love? stuff, impossible! She is but a child; she never stirs +abroad unguarded. She never hath from a child."</p> + +<p>"All the better; then we shall not have far to look for him."</p> + +<p>"I trow not. I shall but command her to tell me the catiff's +name, that hath by magic arts ensnared her young affections."</p> + +<p>"Oh, how foolish be the wise!" said Margaret; "what, would ye +go and put her on her guard? Nay, let us work by art first; and if +that fails, then 'twill still be time for violence and folly."</p> + +<p>Margaret then with some difficulty prevailed on the mayor to +take advantage of its being Saturday, and pay all his people their +salaries in his daughter's presence and hers.</p> + +<p>It was done: some fifteen people entered the room, and received +their pay with a kind word from their employer. Then Margaret, +who had sat close to the patient all the time, rose and went out. +The mayor followed her.</p> + +<p>"Sir, how call you yon black haired lad?"</p> + +<p>"That is Ulrich, my clerk."</p> + +<p>"Well then, 'tis he."</p> + +<p>"Now heaven forbid! a lad I took out of the streets."</p> + +<p>"Well, but your worship is an understanding man. You took +him not up without some merit of his."</p> + +<p>"Merit? not a jot. I liked the looks of the brat, that was all."</p> + +<p>"Was that no merit? He pleased the father's eye. And now +he hath pleased the daughter's. That has oft been seen since Adam."</p> + +<p>"How know ye 'tis he?"</p> + +<p>"I held her hand, and with my finger did lightly touch her +wrist; and, when the others came and went, 'twas as if dogs and +cats had fared in and out. But at this Ulrich's coming her pulse +did leap, and her eyes shine; and, when he went, she did sink +back and sigh; and 'twas to be seen the sun had gone out of the +room for her. Nay, burgomaster, look not on me so scared: no witch +nor magician I, but a poor girl that hath been docile, and so bettered +herself by a great neglected leech's art and learning. I tell ye all +this hath been done before, thousands of years ere we were born. +Now bide thou there till I come to thee, and prithee, prithee, spoil +not good work wi' meddling." She then went back and asked her +patient for a lock of her hair.</p> + +<p>"Take it," said she, more listlessly than ever.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Why, 'tis a lass of marble. How long do you count to be like +that, mistress?"</p> + +<p>"Till I am in my grave, sweet Peggy."</p> + +<p>"Who knows? may be in ten minutes you will be altogether as +hot."</p> + +<p>She ran into the shop, but speedily returned to the mayor and +said, "Good news! He fancies her and more than a little. Now +how is't to be? Will you marry your child, or bury her, for +there is no third way, sith shame and love they do rend her virgin +heart to death."</p> + +<p>The dignitary decided for the more cheerful rite, but not without +a struggle; and, with its marks on his face, he accompanied Margaret +to his daughter. But as men are seldom in a hurry to drink their +wormwood, he stood silent. So Doctor Margaret said cheerfully, +"Mistress, your lock is gone, I have sold it."</p> + +<p>"And who was so mad as to buy such a thing?" inquired the +young lady, scornfully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a black haired laddie wi' white teeth. They call him +Ulrich."</p> + +<p>The pale face reddened directly—brow and all.</p> + +<p>"Says he, 'Oh, sweet mistress, give it me.' I had told them all +whose 'twas. 'Nay,' said I, 'selling is my livelihood, not giving.' +So he offered me this, he offered me that, but nought less would +I take than his next quarter's wages."</p> + +<p>"Cruel," murmured the girl, scarce audibly.</p> + +<p>"Why, you are in one tale with your father. Says he to me when +I told him, 'Oh, an he loves her hair so well, 'tis odd but he loves the +rest of her. Well,' quoth he, ''tis an honest lad, and a' shall have +her, gien she will but leave her sulks and consent.' So, what say +ye, mistress will you be married to Ulrich, or buried i' the kirkyard?"</p> + +<p>"Father? father!"</p> + +<p>"'Tis so, girl, speak thy mind."</p> + +<p>"I—will—obey—my father—in all things," stammered the poor +girl, trying hard to maintain the advantageous position in which +Margaret had placed her. But nature, and the joy and surprise, +were too strong even for a virgin's bashful cunning. She cast an +eloquent look on them both, and sank at her father's knees, and +begged his pardon, with many sobs for having doubted his tenderness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span></p> + +<p>He raised her in his arms, and took her, radiant through her +tears with joy, and returning life, and filial love, to his breast; and +the pair passed a truly sacred moment, and the dignitary was as +happy as he thought to be miserable: so hard is it for mortals to +foresee. And they looked round for Margaret, but she had stolen +away softly.</p> + +<p>The young girl searched the house for her.</p> + +<p>"Where is she hid? Where on earth is she?"</p> + +<p>Where was she? why in her own house dressing meat for her +two old children, and crying bitterly the while at the living picture +of happiness she had just created.</p> + +<p>"Well-a-day, the odds between her lot and mine; well-a-day!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Next time she met the dignitary, he hemm'd and hawed, and +remarked what a pity it was the law forbade him to pay her who +had cured his daughter. "However, when all is done, 'twas not +art, 'twas but woman's wit."</p> + +<p>"Nought but that, burgomaster," said Margaret, bitterly. "Pay +the men of art for not curing her: all the guerdon I seek, that +cured her, is this; go not and give your foul linen away from me +by way of thanks."</p> + +<p>"Why should I?" inquired he.</p> + +<p>"Marry, because there be fools about ye will tell ye she that hath +wit to cure dark diseases, cannot have wit to take dirt out o' rags; +so pledge me your faith."</p> + +<p>The dignitary promised pompously, and felt all the patron.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Something must be done to fill "to-morrow's box." She hawked +her initial letters and her illuminated vellums all about the town. +Printing had by this time dealt caligraphy in black and white +a terrible blow in Holland and Germany. But some copies of the +printed books were usually illuminated and lettered. The printers +offered Margaret prices for work in these two kinds.</p> + +<p>"I'll think on't," said she.</p> + +<p>She took down her diurnal book, and calculated that the price +of an hour's work on those arts would be about one fifth what she +got for an hour at the tub and mangle. "I'll starve first," said +she; "what, pay a craft and a mystery five times less than a handicraft!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span></p> + +<p>Martin, carrying the dry clothes-basket, got treated, and drunk. +This time he babbled her whole story. The girls got hold of it +and gibed her at the fountain.</p> + +<p>All she had gone through was light to her, compared with the +pins and bodkins her own sex drove into her heart, whenever she +came near the merry crew with her pitcher, and that was every day. +Each sex has its form of cruelty; man's is more brutal and terrible; +but shallow women, that have neither read nor suffered, have an unmuscular +barbarity of their own (where no feeling of sex steps in +to overpower it). This defect, intellectual perhaps rather than +moral, has been mitigated in our day by books, especially by able +works of fiction; for there are two roads to that highest effort of +intelligence, Pity; Experience of sorrows, and Imagination, by which +alone we realize the grief we never felt. In the fifteenth century +girls with pitchers had but one; Experience; and at sixteen years +of age or so, that road had scarce been trodden. These girls +persisted that Margaret was deserted by her lover. And to be +deserted was a crime. [They had not been deserted yet.] Not +a word against the Gerard they had created out of their own heads. +For his imaginary crime they fell foul of the supposed victim. +Sometimes they affronted her to her face. Oftener they talked at +her backwards and forwards with a subtle skill, and a perseverence +which, "oh, that they had bestowed on the arts," as poor +Ague Cheek says.</p> + +<p>Now Margaret was brave, and a coward; brave to battle difficulties +and ill fortune; brave to shed her own blood for those she +loved. Fortitude she had. But she had no true fighting courage. +She was a powerful young woman, rather tall, full, and symmetrical; +yet had one of those slips of girls slapped her face, the poor fool's +hands would have dropped powerless, or gone to her own eyes instead +of her adversary's. Nor was she even a match for so many +tongues; and, besides, what could she say? She knew nothing of +these girls, except that somehow they had found out her sorrows, and +hated her; only she thought to herself they must be very happy, +or they would not be so hard on her.</p> + +<p>So she took their taunts in silence; and all her struggle was not +to let them see their power to make her writhe within.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span></p> + +<p>Here came in her fortitude; and she received their blows with +well-feigned, icy, hauteur. They slapped a statue.</p> + +<p>But one day, when her spirits were weak, as happens at times +to females in her condition, a dozen assailants followed suit so +admirably, that her whole sex seemed to the dispirited one to be +against her, and she lost heart, and the tears began to run silently +at each fresh stab.</p> + +<p>On this their triumph knew no bounds, and they followed her +half way home casting barbed speeches.</p> + +<p>After that exposure of weakness the statue could be assumed no +more. So then she would stand timidly aloof out of tongue-shot, +till her young tyrants' pitchers were all filled, and they gone; +and then creep up with hers. And one day she waited so long that +the fount had ceased to flow. So the next day she was obliged to +face the phalanx, or her house go dry. She drew near slowly, but +with the less tremor, that she saw a man at the well talking +to them. He would distract their attention, and, besides, they +would keep their foul tongues quiet if only to blind the male to +their real character. This conjecture, though shrewd, was erroneous. +They could not all flirt with that one man: so the outsiders indemnified +themselves by talking at her the very moment she came up.</p> + +<p>"Any news from foreign parts, Jacqueline?"</p> + +<p>"None for me, Martha. My lad goes no farther from me than +the town wall."</p> + +<p>"I can't say as much," says a third.</p> + +<p>"But if he goes t' Italy I have got another ready to take +the fool's place."</p> + +<p>"He'll not go thither, lass. They go not so far till they are +sick of us that bide in Holland."</p> + +<p>Surprise, and indignation, and the presence of a man, gave +Margaret a moment's fighting courage. "Oh, flout me not, and +show your ill nature before the very soldier. In Heaven's name, +what ill did I ever to ye; what harsh word cast back, for all you +have flung on me, a desolate stranger in your cruel town, that ye +flout me for my bereavement and my poor lad's most unwilling +banishment? Hearts of flesh would surely pity us both, for that +ye cast in my teeth these many days, ye brows of brass, ye bosoms +of stone."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span></p> + +<p>They stared at this novelty, resistance; and ere they could recover +and make mincemeat of her, she put her pitcher quietly down, +and threw her coarse apron over her head, and stood there grieving, +her short-lived spirit oozing fast. "Hallo!" cried the soldier, "why, +what is your ill?" She made no reply. But a little girl, who +had long secretly hated the big ones, squeaked out, "They did +flout her, they are aye flouting her: she may not come nigh the +fountain for fear o' them, and 'tis a black shame."</p> + +<p>"Who spoke to her? Not I for one."</p> + +<p>"Nor I. I would not bemean myself so far."</p> + +<p>The man laughed heartily at this display of dignity. "Come, +wife," said he, "never lower thy flag to such light skirmishers as +these. Hast a tongue i' thy head as well as they."</p> + +<p>"Alack, good soldier, I was not bred to bandy foul terms."</p> + +<p>"Well, but hast a better arm than these. Why not take 'em by +twos across thy knee, and skelp 'em till they cry Meculpee?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I would not hurt their bodies for all their cruel +hearts."</p> + +<p>"Then ye must e'en laugh at them, wife. What! a woman grown, +and not see why mesdames give tongue? You are a buxom wife; +they are a bundle of thread-papers. You are fair and fresh: they +have all the Dutch rim under their bright eyes, that comes of dwelling +in eternal swamps. There lies your crime. Come, gie me thy +pitcher, and, if they flout me, shalt see me scrub 'em all wi' my beard +till they squeak holy mother." The pitcher was soon filled, and +the soldier put it in Margaret's hand. She murmured "Thank +you kindly, brave soldier."</p> + +<p>He patted her on the shoulder. "Come, courage, brave wife; +the divell is dead!" She let the heavy pitcher fall on his foot +directly. He cursed horribly, and hopped in a circle, saying, +"No, the Thief's alive and has broken my great toe."</p> + +<p>The apron came down, and there was a lovely face all flushed +with emotion, and two beaming eyes in front of him, and two hands +held out clasped.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, 'tis nought," said he, good-humouredly, mistaking.</p> + +<p>"Denys?"</p> + +<p>"Well?—But—Hallo! How know you my name is—"</p> + +<p>"Denys of Burgundy!"</p> + +<p>"Why, odsbodikins! I know you not, and you know me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By Gerard's letter. Cross-bow! beard! handsome! The divell +is dead."</p> + +<p>"Sword of Goliah! this must be she. Red hair, violet eyes, +lovely face. But I took ye for a married wife, seeing ye—"</p> + +<p>"Tell me my name," said she quickly.</p> + +<p>"Margaret Brandt."</p> + +<p>"Gerard? Where is he? Is he in life? Is he well? Is he +come? Why is he not here? Where have ye left him? Oh, tell +me! prithee, prithee, prithee, tell me!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, but not here. Oh, ye are all curiosity now, mesdames, +eh? Lass, I have been three months a-foot travelling all Holland +to find ye, and here you are. Oh, be joyful!" and he flung his +cap in the air, and seizing both her hands kissed them ardently. +"Ah, my pretty she-comrade, I have found thee at last. I knew I +should. Shalt be flouted no more. I'll twist your necks at the +first word, ye little trollops. And I have got fifteen gold angels left +for thee, and our Gerard will soon be here. Shalt wet thy purple +eyes no more."</p> + +<p>But the fair eyes were wet even now, looking kindly and gratefully +at the friend that had dropped among her foes as if from +heaven: Gerard's comrade. "Prithee come home with me, good, +kind Denys. I cannot speak of him before these." They went +off together, followed by a chorus. "She has gotten a man. She +has gotten a man at last. Hoo! hoo! hoo!"</p> + +<p>Margaret quickened her steps; but Denys took down his crossbow +and pretended to shoot them all dead: they fled quadrivious, shrieking.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE reader already knows how much these two had to tell +one another. It was a sweet yet bitter day for Margaret, +since it brought her a true friend, and ill news: for now +first she learned that Gerard was all alone in that strange land. +She could not think with Denys that he would come home; indeed +he would have arrived before this.</div> + +<p>Denys was a balm. He called her his she-comrade, and was +always cheering her up with his formula and hilarities, and she +petted him and made much of him, and feebly hectored it over him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> +as well as over Martin, and would not let him eat a single meal out +of her house, and forbade him to use naughty words. "It spoils +you, Denys. Good lack, to hear such ugly words come forth so +comely a head: forbear, or I shall be angry: so be civil." Whereupon +Denys was upon his good behaviour, and ludicrous the struggle +between his native politeness and his acquired ruffianism. And as +it never rains but it pours, other persons now solicited Margaret's +friendship. She had written to Margaret Van Eyck a humble letter +telling her she knew she was no longer the favourite she had been, +and would keep her distance; but could not forget her benefactress's +past kindness. She then told her briefly how many ways she had +battled for a living, and, in conclusion, begged earnestly that her +residence might not be betrayed, "least of all to his people. I do +hate them, they drove him from me. And, even when he was gone, +their hearts turned not to me as they would an if they had repented +their cruelty to him."</p> + +<p>The Van Eyck was perplexed. At last she made a confidante of +Reicht. The secret ran through Reicht, as through a cylinder, to +Catherine.</p> + +<p>"Ay, and is she turned that bitter against us?" said that good +woman. "She stole our son from us, and now she hates us for not +running into her arms. Natheless it is a blessing she is alive and +no farther away than Rotterdam."</p> + +<p>The English princess now Countess Charolois, made a stately +progress through the northern states of the duchy, accompanied by +her step-daughter the young heiress of Burgundy, Marie de Bourgogne. +Then the old duke, the most magnificent prince in Europe, +put out his splendour. Troops of dazzling knights, and bevies of +fair ladies gorgeously attired, attended the two princesses; and minstrels, +jongleurs, or storytellers, bards, musicians, actors, tumblers, +followed in the train; and there were fencing, dancing, and joy in +every town they shone on. Giles, a court favourite, sent a timely +message to Tergou, inviting all his people to meet the pageant at +Rotterdam.</p> + +<p>They agreed to take a holiday for once in a way, and setting their +married daughter to keep the shop, came to Rotterdam. But to two +of them, not the great folk, but little Giles, was the main attraction. +They had been in Rotterdam some days, when Denys met Catherine +accidentally in the street, and after a warm greeting on both sides,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span> +bade her rejoice, for he had found the she-comrade, and crowed; +but Catherine cooled him by showing him how much earlier he +would have found her by staying quietly at Tergou, than by +vagabondizing it all over Holland. "And being found, what the +better are we? her heart is set dead against us now."</p> + +<p>"Oh let that flea stick, come you with me to her house."</p> + +<p>No, she would not go where she was sure of an ill welcome. +"Them that come unbidden sit unseated." No, let Denys be +mediator, and bring the parties to a good understanding. He undertook +the office at once, and with great pomp and confidence. He +trotted off to Margaret and said, "She-comrade, I met this day a +friend of thine."</p> + +<p>"Thou didst look into the Rotter then, and see thyself."</p> + +<p>"Nay, 'twas a female, and one that seeks thy regard; 'twas +Catherine, Gerard's mother."</p> + +<p>"Oh, was it?" said Margaret; "then you may tell her she comes too +late. There was a time I longed and longed for her; but she held +aloof in my hour of most need, so now we will be as we ha' been."</p> + +<p>Denys tried to shake this resolution. He coaxed her, but she +was bitter and sullen, and not to be coaxed. Then he scolded her +well; then, at that she went into hysterics.</p> + +<p>He was frightened at this result of his eloquence, and being off +his guard allowed himself to be entrapped into a solemn promise +never to recur to the subject. He went back to Catherine crestfallen, +and told her. She fired up and told the family how his +overtures had been received. Then they fired up; it became a feud +and burned fiercer every day. Little Kate alone made some excuses +for Margaret.</p> + +<p>The very next day another visitor came to Margaret, and found +the military enslaved and degraded, Martin up to his elbows in +soapsuds, and Denys ironing very clumsily, and Margaret plaiting +ruffs, but with a mistress's eye on her raw levies. To these there +entered an old man, venerable at first sight, but on nearer view keen +and wizened.</p> + +<p>"Ah," cried Margaret. Then swiftly turned her back on him and +hid her face with invincible repugnance. "Oh, that man! that +man!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, fear me not," said Ghysbrecht; "I come on a friend's +errand. I bring ye a letter from foreign parts."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mock me not, old man," and she turned slowly round.</p> + +<p>"Nay, see," and he held out an enormous letter. Margaret darted +on it, and held it with trembling hands and glistening eyes. It was +Gerard's handwriting.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thank you, sir, bless you for this. I forgive you all +the ill you ever wrought me." And she pressed the letter to +her bosom with one hand, and glided swiftly from the room with +it.</p> + +<p>As she did not come back, Ghysbrecht went away, but not without +a scowl at Martin. Margaret was hours alone with her letter.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN she came down again she was a changed woman. +Her eyes were wet, but calm, and all her bitterness and +excitement charmed away.</div> + +<p>"Denys," said she, softly, "I have got my orders. I am to read +my lover's letter to his folk."</p> + +<p>"Ye will never do that?"</p> + +<p>"Ay will I."</p> + +<p>"I see there is something in the letter has softened ye towards +them."</p> + +<p>"Not a jot, Denys, not a jot. But an I hated them like poison +I would not disobey my love. Denys, 'tis so sweet to obey, and +sweetest of all to obey one who is far, far away and cannot enforce +my duty, but must trust my love for my obedience. Ah, Gerard, +my darling, at hand I might have slighted thy commands, misliking +thy folk as I have cause to do; but now, didst bid me +go into the raging sea and read thy sweet letter to the sharks there +I'd go. Therefore, Denys, tell his mother I have got a letter, and +if she and hers would hear it, I am their servant, let them say their +hour, and I'll seat them as best I can, and welcome them as best +I may."</p> + +<p>Denys went off to Catherine with this good news. He found +the family at dinner, and told them there was a long letter from +Gerard. Then in the midst of the joy this caused, he said, "And +her heart is softened, and she will read it to you herself; you are +to choose your own time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What, does she think there are none can read but her?" asked +Catherine. "Let her send the letter and we will read it."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but mother," objected little Kate; "mayhap she cannot bear +to part it from her hand; she loves him dearly."</p> + +<p>"What, thinks she we shall steal it?"</p> + +<p>Cornelis suggested that she would fain wedge herself into the +family by means of this letter.</p> + +<p>Denys cast a look of scorn on the speaker. "There spoke a bad +heart," said he. "La Camarade hates you all like poison. Oh, +mistake me not, dame; I defend her not, but so 'tis; yet maugre +her spleen at a word from Gerard she proffers to read you his +letter with her own pretty mouth, and hath a voice like honey—sure +'tis a fair proffer."</p> + +<p>"'Tis so, mine honest soldier," said the father of the family, +"and merits a civil reply, therefore hold your whisht ye that be +women, and I shall answer her. Tell her I, his father, setting aside +all past grudges, do for this grace thank her, and, would she have +double thanks, let her send my son's letter by thy faithful hand, the +which will I read to his flesh and blood, and will then to her so surely +and faithfully return, as I am Eli a Dierich a William a Luke, +free burgher of Tergou, like my forbears, and, like them, a man +of my word."</p> + +<p>"Ay, and a man who is better than his word," cried Catherine; +"the only one I ever did foregather."</p> + +<p>"Hold thy peace, wife."</p> + +<p>"Art a man of sense, Eli, a dirk, a chose, a chose,"<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a> shouted +Denys. "The she-comrade will be right glad to obey Gerard and +yet not face you all, whom she hates as wormwood, saving your +presence. Bless ye, the world hath changed, she is all submission +to-day: 'Obedience is honey,' quoth she; and in sooth 'tis a sweetmeat +she cannot but savour, eating so little on't, for what with her +fair face, and her mellow tongue; and what wi' flying in fits and +terrifying us that be soldiers to death, and we thwart her; and +what wi' chiding us one while, and petting us like lambs t'other, +she hath made two of the crawlingest slaves ever you saw out of two +honest swashbucklers. I be the ironing ruffian, t' other washes."</p> + +<p>"What next?"</p> + +<p>"What next? why whenever the brat is in the world I shall rock +cradle, and t' other knave will wash tucker and bib. So, then, I'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> +go fetch the letter on the instant. Ye will let me bide and hear +it read, will ye not?"</p> + +<p>"Else our hearts were black as coal," said Catherine.</p> + +<p>So Denys went for the letter. He came back crestfallen. "She +will not let it out of her hand neither to me nor you, nor any he or +she that lives."</p> + +<p>"I knew she would not," said Cornelis.</p> + +<p>"Whisht! whisht!" said Eli, "and let Denys tell his story."</p> + +<p>"'Nay,' said I, 'but be ruled by me.' 'Not I,' quoth she. 'Well +but,' quoth I, 'that same honey Obedience ye spake of.' 'You are a +fool,' says she; 'obedience to Gerard is sweet, but obedience to any +other body, who ever said that was sweet?'"</p> + +<p>"At last she seemed to soften a bit, and did give me a written +paper for you, mademoiselle. Here 'tis."</p> + +<p>"For me?" said little Kate, colouring.</p> + +<p>"Give that here!" said Eli, and he scanned the writing, and said +almost in a whisper, "These be words from the letter. Hearken!</p> + +<p>"'And, sweetheart, an' if these lines should travel safe to thee, +make thou trial of my people's hearts withal. Maybe they are somewhat +turned toward me, being far away. If 'tis so, they will show +it to thee, since now to me they may not. Read, then, this letter! +But I do strictly forbid thee to let it from thy hands; and if they +still hold aloof from thee, why then say nought, but let them think +me dead. Obey me in this; for, if thou dost disrespect my judgment +and my will in this thou lovest me not.'"</p> + +<p>There was a silence, and Gerard's words copied by Margaret were +handed round and inspected.</p> + +<p>"Well," said Catherine, "that is another matter. But methinks +'tis for her to come to us, not we to her."</p> + +<p>"Alas, mother! what odds does that make?"</p> + +<p>"Much," said Eli. "Tell her we are over many to come to her, +and bid her hither, the sooner the better."</p> + +<p>When Denys was gone, Eli owned it was a bitter pill to him. +"When that lass shall cross my threshold, all the mischief and +misery she hath made here will seem to come in adoors in one heap. +But what could I do, wife? We <i>must</i> hear the news of Gerard. +I saw that in thine eyes, and felt it in my own heart. And she is +backed by our undutiful but still beloved son, and so is she stronger +than we, and brings our noses down to the grindstone, the sly, cruel,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span> +jade. But never heed. We will hear the letter: and then let her +go unblessed, as she came unwelcome."</p> + +<p>"Make your mind easy," said Catherine. "She will not come +at all." And a tone of regret was visible.</p> + +<p>Shortly after Richart, who had been hourly expected, arrived from +Amsterdam grave and dignified in his burgher's robe and gold +chain, ruff, and furred cap, and was received not with affection only, +but respect; for he had risen a step higher than his parents, and +such steps were marked in mediæval society almost as visibly as those +in their staircases.</p> + +<p>Admitted in due course to the family council, he showed plainly, +though not discourteously, that his pride was deeply wounded by +their having deigned to treat with Margaret Brandt. "I see the +temptation," said he. "But which of us hath not at times to wish +one way and do another?"</p> + +<p>This threw a considerable chill over the old people. So little +Kate put in a word. "Vex not thyself, dear Richart. Mother says +she will not come."</p> + +<p>"All the better, sweetheart. I fear me, if she do, I shall hie +me back to Amsterdam."</p> + +<p>Here Denys popped his head in at the door, and said "She will +be here at three on the great dial."</p> + +<p>They all looked at one another in silence.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"NAY, Richart," said Catherine at last, "for Heaven's +sake let not this one sorry wench set us all by the ears: +hath she not made ill blood enough already?"</div> + +<p>"In very deed she hath. Fear me not, good mother. Let her +come and read the letter of the poor boy she hath by devilish arts +bewitched, and then let her go. Give me your words to show her no +countenance beyond decent and constrained civility: less we may not, +being in our own house; and I will say no more." On this understanding +they awaited the foe. She, for her part, prepared for the +interview in a spirit little less hostile.</p> + +<p>When Denys brought word they would not come to her, but would +receive her, her lip curled, and she bade him observe how in them +every feeling, however small, was larger than the love for Gerard.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span> +"Well," said she, "I have not that excuse; so why mimic the pretty +burgher's pride, the pride of all unlettered folk? I will go to +them for Gerard's sake. Oh, how I loathe them!"</p> + +<p>Thus poor good-natured Denys was bringing into one house +the materials of an explosion.</p> + +<p>Margaret made her toilet in the same spirit that a knight of her +day dressed for battle—he to parry blows, and she to parry glances—glances +of contempt at her poverty, or of irony at her extravagance. +Her kirtle was of English cloth, dark blue, and her farthingale and +hose of the same material, but a glossy roan, or claret colour. Not +an inch of pretentious fur about her, but plain snowy linen wrist-bands, +and curiously-plaited linen from the bosom of the kirtle up +to the commencement of the throat; it did not encircle her throat, +but framed it, being square, not round. Her front hair still peeped +in two waves much after the fashion which Mary Queen of Scots +revived a century later; but instead of the silver net, which +would have ill become her present condition, the rest of her head +was covered with a very small tight-fitting hood of dark blue cloth, +hemmed with silver. Her shoes were red; but the roan petticoat +and hose prepared the spectator's mind for the shock, and they set +off the arched instep and shapely foot.</p> + +<p>Beauty knew its business then as now.</p> + +<p>And with all this she kept her enemies waiting, though it was three +by the dial.</p> + +<p>At last she started, attended by her he-comrade. And when they +were half way, she stopped and said thoughtfully, "Denys!"</p> + +<p>"Well, she-general?"</p> + +<p>"I must go home" (piteously).</p> + +<p>"What have ye left somewhat behind?"</p> + +<p>"Ay."</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"My courage. Oh! oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, be brave, she-general. I shall be with you."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but wilt keep close to me when I be there?"</p> + +<p>Denys promised, and she resumed her march, but gingerly.</p> + +<p>Meantime, they were all assembled, and waiting for her with a +strange mixture of feelings.</p> + +<p>Mortification, curiosity, panting affection, aversion to her who +came to gratify those feelings, yet another curiosity to see what she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> +was like, and what there was in her to bewitch Gerard, and make so +much mischief.</p> + +<p>At last Denys came alone, and whispered, "The she-comrade is +without."</p> + +<p>"Fetch her in," said Eli. "Now whist, all of ye. None speak to +her but I."</p> + +<p>They all turned their eyes to the door in dead silence.</p> + +<p>A little muttering was heard outside; Denys's rough organ, and a +woman's soft and mellow voice.</p> + +<p>Presently that stopped; and then the door opened slowly, and +Margaret Brandt, dressed as I have described, and somewhat pale, +but calm and lovely, stood on the threshold, looking straight before +her.</p> + +<p>They all rose but Kate, and remained mute and staring.</p> + +<p>"Be seated, mistress," said Eli, gravely, and motioned to a seat +that had been set apart for her.</p> + +<p>She inclined her head, and crossed the apartment; and in so doing +her condition was very visible, not only in her shape, but in her +languor.</p> + +<p>Cornelis and Sybrandt hated her for it. Richart thought it spoiled +her beauty.</p> + +<p>It softened the women somewhat.</p> + +<p>She took her letter out of her bosom, and kissed it as if she had +been alone; then disposed herself to read it with the air of one who +knew she was there for that single purpose.</p> + +<p>But, as she began, she noticed they had seated her all by herself +like a leper. She looked at Denys, and putting her hand down by +her side, made him a swift furtive motion to come by her.</p> + +<p>He went with an obedient start as if she had cried "March!" and +stood at her shoulder like a sentinel; but this zealous manner of +doing it revealed to the company that he had been ordered thither; +and at that she coloured. And now she began to read her Gerard, +their Gerard, to their eager ears, in a mellow, but clear voice, so soft, +so earnest, so thrilling, her very soul seemed to cling about each +precious sound. It was a voice as of a woman's bosom set speaking +by Heaven itself.</p> + +<p>"I do nothing doubt, my Margaret, that long ere this shall meet +thy beloved eyes, Denys, my most dear friend, will have sought thee +out, and told thee the manner of our unlooked-for and most tearful<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span> +parting. Therefore I will e'en begin at that most doleful day. +What befell him after, poor faithful soul, fain, fain would I hear, +but may not. But I pray for him day and night next after thee, +dearest. Friend more stanch and loving had not David in Jonathan +than I in him. Be good to him for poor Gerard's sake."</p> + +<p>At these words, which came quite unexpectedly to him, Denys +leaned his head on Margaret's high chair, and groaned aloud.</p> + +<p>She turned quickly as she sat, and found his hand, and pressed it.</p> + +<p>And so the sweetheart and the friend held hands while the sweetheart +read.</p> + +<p>"I went forward all dizzied, like one in an ill dream; and presently +a gentleman came up with his servants, all on horseback, and had +like to have rid o'er me. And he drew rein at the brow of the hill, +and sent his armed men back to rob me. They robbed me civilly +enough; and took my purse and the last copper, and rid gaily away. +I wandered stupid on, a friendless pauper."</p> + +<p>There was a general sigh, followed by an oath from Denys.</p> + +<p>"Presently a strange dimness came o'er me, I lay down to sleep +on the snow. 'Twas ill done, and with store of wolves hard by. +Had I loved thee as thou dost deserve, I had shown more manhood. +But oh, sweet love, the drowsiness that did crawl o'er me desolate, +and benumb me, was more than nature. And so I slept; and but +that God was better to us, than I to thee or to myself, from that +sleep I ne'er had waked; so all do say. I had slept an hour or two, +as I supposed, but no more, when a hand did shake me rudely. I +awoke to my troubles. And there stood a servant girl in her holiday +suit. 'Are ye mad,' quoth she, in seeming choler, 'to sleep in +snow, and under wolves' nosen? Art weary o' life, and not long +weaned? Come, now,' said she, more kindly, 'get up like a good +lad'; so I did rise up. 'Are ye rich, or are ye poor?' But I stared +at her as one amazed. 'Why 'tis easy of reply,' quoth she. 'Are +ye rich, or are ye poor?' Then I gave a great, loud cry; that she +did start back. 'Am I rich, or am I poor? Had ye asked me an +hour agone, I had said I am rich. But now I am so poor as sure +earth beareth on her bosom none poorer. An hour agone I was rich +in a friend, rich in money, rich in hope and spirits of youth; but +now the Bastard of Burgundy hath taken my friend and another +gentleman my purse; and I can neither go forward to Rome nor back +to her I left in Holland. I am poorest of the poor.' 'Alack!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span> +said the wench. 'Natheless, an ye had been rich ye might ha' lain +down again in the snow for any use I had for ye; and then I trow +ye had soon fared out o' this world as bare as ye came into 't. But, +being poor, you are our man: so come wi' me.' Then I went because +she bade me, and because I recked not now whither I went. +And she took me to a fine house hard by, and into a noble dining-hall +hung with black: and there was set a table with many dishes, and +but one plate and one chair. 'Fall to!' said she, in a whisper. +'What, alone?' said I. 'Alone? And which of us, think ye, +would eat out of the same dish with ye? Are we robbers o' the +dead?' Then she speered where I was born. 'At Tergou,' said I. +Says she, 'And, when a gentleman dies in that country, serve they +not the dead man's dinner up as usual, till he be in the ground, and +set some poor man down to it?' I told her nay. 'She blushed for +us then. Here they were better Christians.' So I behoved to sit +down. But small was my heart for meat. Then this kind lass sat +by me and poured me out wine; and, tasting it, it cut me to the heart +Denys was not there to drink with me. He doth so love good wine, +and women good, bad, or indifferent. The rich, strong wine curled +round my sick heart; and that day first I did seem to glimpse why +folk in trouble run to drink so. She made me eat of every dish. +''Twas unlucky to pass one. Nought was here but her master's +<i>daily</i> dinner.' 'He had a good stomach, then,' said I. 'Ay, lad, +and a good heart. Leastways, so we all say now he is dead; but, +being alive, no word on't e'er heard I.' So I did eat as a bird; +nibbling of every dish. And she hearing me sigh, and seeing me +like to choke at the food, took pity and bade me be of good cheer. +I should sup and lie there that night. And she went to the hind, +and he gave me a right good bed; and I told him all, and asked him +would the law give me back my purse. 'Law!' quoth he; 'law there +was none for the poor in Burgundy. Why, 'twas the cousin of the +Lady of the Manor, he that had robbed me. He knew the wild +spark. The matter must be judged before the lady; and she was +quite young, and far more like to hang me for slandering her cousin, +and a gentleman, and a handsome man, than to make him give me +back my own. Inside the liberties of a town a poor man might now +and then see the face of justice; but out among the grand seigneurs +and dames—never.' So I said, 'I'll sit down robbed rather than +seek justice and find gallows.' They were all most kind to me next<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span> +day; and the girl proffered me money from her small wage to help me +towards Rhine."</p> + +<p>"Oh, then, he is coming home! he is coming home!' shouted Denys, +interrupting the reader. She shook her head gently at him, by way +of reproof.</p> + +<p>"I beg pardon, all the company," said he stiffly.</p> + +<p>"'Twas a sore temptation; but, being a servant, my stomach rose +against it. 'Nay, nay,' said I. She told me I was wrong. ''Twas +pride out o' place; poor folk should help one another; or who on +earth would?' I said if I could do aught in return 'twere well; but +for a free gift, nay: I was over much beholden already. Should I +write a letter for her? 'Nay, he is in the house at present,' said +she. 'Should I draw her picture, and so earn my money? 'What, +can ye?' said she. I told her I could try; and her habit would +well become a picture. So she was agog to be limned, and give it +her lad. And I set her to stand in a good light, and soon made +sketches two, whereof I send thee one, coloured at odd hours. The +other I did most hastily, and with little conscience daub, for which +may Heaven forgive me; but time was short. They, poor things, +knew no better, and were most proud and joyous; and, both kissing +me after their country fashion, 'twas the hind that was her sweetheart, +they did bid me God-speed; and I towards Rhine."</p> + +<p>Margaret paused here, and gave Denys the coloured drawing to +hand round. It was eagerly examined by the females on account +of the costume, which differed in some respects from that of a Dutch +domestic: the hair was in a tight linen bag, a yellow half kerchief +crossed her head from ear to ear, but threw out a rectangular point +that descended the centre of her forehead, and it met in two more +points over her bosom. She wore a red kirtle with long sleeves, +kilted very high in front, and showing a green farthingale and a +great red leather purse hanging down over it; red stockings, yellow +leathern shoes, ahead of her age; for they were low-quartered and +square-toed, secured by a strap buckling over the instep, which was +not uncommon, and was perhaps the rude germ of the diamond +buckle to come.</p> + +<p>Margaret continued:—</p> + +<p>"But, oh! how I missed my Denys at every step! often I sat down +on the road and groaned. And in the afternoon it chanced that I +did so set me down where two roads met, and with heavy head in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> +hand, and heavy heart, did think of thee, my poor sweetheart, and of +my lost friend, and of the little house at Tergou, where they all loved +me once; though now it is turned to hate."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Alas! that he will think so."</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Whist! wife!"</p> + +<p>"And I did sigh loud, and often. And me sighing so, one came +carolling like a bird adown t'other road. 'Ay, chirp and chirp,' +cried I, bitterly. 'Thou hast not lost sweetheart, and friend, thy +father's hearth, thy mother's smile, and every penny in the world.' +And at last he did so carol, and carol, I jumped up in ire to get +away from his most jarring mirth. But, ere I fled from it, I +looked down the path to see what could make a man so light hearted +in this weary world; and lo! the songster was a humpbacked cripple, +with a bloody bandage o'er his eye, and both legs gone at the knee."</p> + +<p>"He! he! he! he! he!" went Sybrandt, laughing and cackling.</p> + +<p>Margaret's eyes flashed: she began to fold the letter up.</p> + +<p>"Nay, lass," said Eli, "heed him not! Thou unmannerly cur, +offer't but again and I put thee to the door."</p> + +<p>"Why, what was there to gibe at, Sybrandt?" remonstrated +Catherine, more mildly. "Is not our Kate afflicted? and is she not +the most content of us all, and singeth like a merle at times between +her pains? But I am as bad as thou; prithee read on, lass, and stop +our gabble wi' somewhat worth the hearkening."</p> + +<p>"Then, said I, 'may this thing be?' And I took myself to +task. 'Gerard, son of Eli, dost thou well to bemoan thy lot, that +hast youth and health; and here comes the wreck of nature on +crutches, praising God's goodness with singing like a mavis?'"</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "There you see."</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Whist, dame, whist!"</p> + +<p>"And whenever he saw me, he left carolling and presently hobbled +up and chanted, 'Charity, for love of Heaven, sweet master, +charity,' with a whine as piteous as wind at keyhole. 'Alack, poor +soul,' said I, 'charity is in my heart, but not my purse; I am poor +as thou.' Then he believed me none, and to melt me undid his +sleeve, and showed a sore wound on his arm, and said he: 'Poor +cripple though I be, I am like to lose this eye to boot, look else.' +I saw and groaned for him, and to excuse myself let him wot how +I have been robbed of my last copper. Thereat he left whining +all in a moment, and said, in a big manly voice, 'Then I'll e'en take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> +a rest. Here, youngster, pull thou this strap: nay, fear not!' I +pulled, and down came a stout pair of legs out of his back; and half +his hump had melted away, and the wound in his eye no deeper than +the bandage."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" ejaculated Margaret's hearers, in a body.</p> + +<p>"Whereat, seeing me astounded, he laughed in my face, and told +me I was not worth gulling, and offered me his protection. 'My +face was prophetic,' he said. 'Of what?' said I. 'Marry,' said +he, 'that its owner will starve in this thievish land.' Travel teaches +e'en the young wisdom. Time was I had turned and fled this impostor +as a pestilence; but now I listened patiently to pick up crumbs +of counsel. And well I did: for nature and his adventurous life +had crammed the poor knave with shrewdness and knowledge of the +homelier sort—a child was I beside him. When he had turned me +inside out, said he, 'Didst well to leave France and make for Germany; +but think not of Holland again. Nay, on to Augsburg and +Nurnberg, the Paradise of craftsmen: thence to Venice, an thou +wilt. But thou wilt never bide in Italy nor any other land, having +once tasted the great German cities. Why there is but one honest +country in Europe, and that is Germany; and since thou art honest, +and since I am a vagabone, Germany was made for us twain.' I +bade him make that good: how might one country fit true men and +knaves? 'Why, thou novice,' said he, 'because in an honest land +are fewer knaves to bite the honest man, and many honest men for +the knave to bite. I was in luck, being honest, to have fallen in +with a friendly sharp. Be my pal,' said he. 'I go to Nurnberg, +we will reach it with full pouches. I'll learn ye the cul de bois, +and the cul de jatte, and how to maund, and chant, and patter, and +to raise swellings, and paint sores and ulcers on thy body would +take in the divell.' I told him, shivering, I'd liever die than shame +myself and my folk so."</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Good lad! good lad!"</p> + +<p>"Why what shame was it for such as I to turn beggar? Beggary +was an ancient and most honourable mystery. What did holy +monks, and bishops, and kings, when they would win Heaven's +smile? why, wash the feet of beggars, those favourites of the saints. +'The saints were no fools,' he told me. Then he did put out his foot. +'Look at that, that was washed by the greatest king alive, Louis of +France, the last holy Thursday that was. And the next day, Friday,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> +clapped in the stocks by the warden of a petty hamlet,' So I +told him my foot should walk between such high honour and such +low disgrace, on the safe path of honesty, please God. Well then, +since I had not spirit to beg, he would indulge my perversity. I +should work under him, he be the head, I the fingers. And with +that he set himself up like a judge, on a heap of dust by the road's +side, and questioned me strictly what I could do. I began to say +I was strong and willing. 'Bah!' said he, 'so is an ox. Say, what +canst do that Sir Ox cannot?' I could write; I had won a prize +for it. 'Canst write as fast as the printers?' quo' he, jeering. +'What else?' I could paint. 'That was better.' I was like to +tear my hair to hear him say so, and me going to Rome to write. +I could twang the psaltery a bit. 'That was well. Could I tell +stories?' Ay, by the score. 'Then,' said he, 'I hire you from this +moment.' 'What to do?' said I. 'Nought crooked, Sir Candour,' +says he. 'I will feed thee all the way and find thee work; and take +half thine earnings, no more.' 'Agreed,' said I, and gave my hand +on it. 'Now, servant,' said he, 'we will dine. But ye need not stand +behind my chair, for two reasons, first I ha' got no chair, and, next, +good fellowship likes me better than state.' And out of his wallet +he brought flesh, fowl, and pastry, a good dozen of spices lapped in +flax paper, and wine fit for a king. Ne'er feasted I better than out +of this beggar's wallet, now my master. When we had well eaten +I was for going on. 'But,' said he, 'servants should not drive their +masters too hard, especially after feeding, for then the body is for +repose, and the mind turns to contemplation;' and he lay on his +back gazing calmly at the sky, and presently wondered whether +there were any beggars up there. I told him I knew but of one; +called Lazarus. 'Could he do the cul de jatte better than I?' said +he, and looked quite jealous like. I told him nay; Lazarus was +honest, though a beggar, and fed daily of the crumbs fal'n from a +rich man's table, and the dogs licked his sores. 'Servant,' quo' +he, 'I spy a foul fault in thee. Thou liest without discretion: now +the end of lying being to gull, this is no better than fumbling with +the divell's tail. I pray Heaven thou mayest prove to paint better +than thou cuttest whids, or I am done out of a dinner. No beggar +eats crumbs, but only the fat of the land; and dogs lick not a beggar's +sores, being made with spearwort, or ratsbane, or biting acids, +from all which dogs, and even pigs, abhor. My sores are made after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> +my proper receipt; but no dog would lick e'en them twice. I have +made a scurvy bargain: art a cozening knave. I doubt, as well as +a nincompoop.' I deigned no reply to this bundle of lies, which +did accuse heavenly truth of falsehood for not being in a tale with +him. He rose and we took the road; and presently we came to a +place where were two little wayside inns, scarce a furlong apart. +'Halt,' said my master. 'Their armories are sore faded—all the +better. Go thou in; shun the master; board the wife; and flatter +her inn sky high, all but the armories, and offer to colour them dirt +cheap.' So I went in and told the wife I was a painter, and would +revive her armories cheap; but she sent me away with a rebuff. I +to my master. He groaned. 'Ye are all fingers and no tongue,' said +he; 'I have made a scurvy bargain. Come and hear me patter and +flatter.' Between the two inns was a high hedge. He goes behind +it a minute and comes out a decent tradesman. We went on to the +other inn, and then I heard him praise it so fulsome as the very +wife did blush. 'But,' says he, 'there is one little, little fault; +your armories are dull and faded. Say but the word, and for a +silver franc my apprentice here, the cunningest e'er I had, shall make +them bright as ever.' Whilst she hesitated, the rogue told her he +had done it to a little inn hard by, and now the inn's face was like +the starry firmament. "D'ye hear that, my man?' cries she, 'The +Three Frogs' have been and painted up their armories: shall 'The +Four Hedgehogs' be outshone by them?" So I painted, and my +master stood by like a lord, advising me how to do, and winking to +me to heed him none, and I got a silver franc. And he took me +back to 'The Three Frogs,' and on the way put me on a beard and +disguised me, and flattered 'The Three Frogs,' and told them how +he had adorned 'The Four Hedgehogs,' and into the net jumped the +three poor simple frogs, and I earned another silver franc. Then +we went on and he found his crutches, and sent me forward, and +showed his 'cicatrices d'emprunt,' as he called them, and all his infirmities, +at 'The Four Hedgehogs,' and got both food and money. +'Come, share and share,' quoth he: so I gave him one franc. 'I +have made a good bargain,' said he. 'Art a master limner, but +takest too much time.' So I let him know that in matters of honest +craft things could not be done quick and well. 'Then do them +quick,' quoth he. And he told me my name was Bon Bec; and I +might call him Cul de Jatte, because that was his lay at our first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span> +meeting. And at the next town my master, Cul de Jatte, bought +me a psaltery, and sat himself up again by the roadside in state like +him that erst judged Marsyas and Apollo, piping for vain glory. +So I played a strain. 'Indifferent well, harmonious Bon Bec,' said +he, haughtily. 'Now tune thy pipes.' So I did sing a sweet strain +the good monks taught me; and singing it reminded poor Bon Bec, +Gerard erst, of his young days and home, and brought the water to +mine een. But, looking up, my master's visage was as the face of +a little boy whipt soundly, or sipping foulest medicine. 'Zounds, +stop that belly-ache blether,' quoth he, 'that will ne'er wile a stiver +out o' peasants' purses; 'twill but sour the nurses' milk, and gar +the kine jump into rivers to be out of earshot on't. What, false +knave, did I buy thee a fire new psaltery to be minded o' my latter +end withal? Hearken! these be the songs that glad the heart, and +fill the minstrel's purse.' And he sung so blasphemous a stave, +and eke so obscene, as I drew away from him a space that the lightning +might not spoil the new psaltery. However, none came, being +winter, and then I said, 'Master, the Lord is débonair. Held I +the thunder yon ribaldry had been thy last, thou foul mouthed +wretch.'</p> + +<p>"'Why, Bon Bec, what is to do?' quoth he. 'I have made an ill +bargain. Oh, perverse heart, that turneth from doctrine.' So I +bade him keep his breath to cool his broth, ne'er would I shame my +folk with singing ribald songs. 'Then,' says he, sulkily, 'the first +fire we light by the way side, clap thou on the music-box! so 'twill +make our pot boil for the nonce; but with your</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Good people, let us peak and pine,<br /> +Cut tristful mugs, and miaul and whine<br /> +Thorough our nosen chaunts divine<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>never, never, never. Ye might as well go through Lorraine crying, +Mulleygrubs, Mulleygrubs, who'll buy my Mulleygrubs?' So we +fared on, bad friends. But I took a thought, and prayed him hum +me one of his naughty ditties again. Then he brightened, and +broke forth into ribaldry like a nightingale. Finger in ears +stuffed I. 'No words; nought but the bare melody.' For oh, +Margaret, note the sly malice of the Evil One! Still to the scurviest +matter he weddeth the tunablest ditties."</div> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "That is true as Holy Writ."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Sybrandt.</i>] "How know you that, mother?"</p> + +<p><i>Cornelis.</i>] "He! he! he!"</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Whisht, ye uneasy wights, and let me hear the boy. He +is wiser than ye; wiser than his years."</p> + +<p>"'What tomfoolery is this?' said he; yet he yielded to me, and soon +I garnered three of his melodies; but I would not let Cul de Jatte +wot the thing I meditated. 'Show not fools nor bairns unfinished +work,' saith the byword. And by this time 'twas night, and a +little town at hand, where we went each to his inn; for my master +would not yield to put off his rags and other sores till morning; nor +I to enter an inn with a tatterdemalion. So we were to meet on +the road at peep of day. And, indeed, we still lodged apart, meeting +at morn and parting at eve, outside each town we lay at. And +waking at midnight and cogitating, good thoughts came down to me, +and sudden my heart was enlightened. I called to mind that my +Margaret had withstood the taking of the burgomaster's purse. +''Tis theft,' said you; 'disguise it how ye will.' But I must be +wiser than my betters: and now that which I had as good as stolen, +others had stolen from me. As it came so it was gone. Then I +said, 'Heaven is not cruel, but just;' and I vowed a vow, to repay +our burgomaster every shilling an I could. And I went forth in +the morning sad, but hopeful. I felt lighter for the purse being +gone. My master was at the gate becrutched. I told him I'd liever +have seen him in another disguise. 'Beggars must not be choosers,' +said he. However, soon he bade me untruss him, for he felt sadly. +His head swam. I told him, forcefully to deform nature thus could +scarce be wholesome. He answered none; but looked scared, and +hand on head. By-and-by he gave a groan, and rolled on the ground +like a ball, and writhed sore. I was scared, and wist not what to +do, but went to lift him; but his trouble rose higher and higher, he +gnashed his teeth fearfully, and the foam did fly from his lips; and +presently his body bended itself like a bow, and jerked and bounded +many times into the air. I exorcised him; it but made him worse. +There was water in a ditch hard by, not very clear; but, the poor +creature struggling between life and death, I filled my hat withal, +and came flying to souse him. Then my lord laughed in my face. +'Come, Bon Bec, by thy white gills, I have not forgotten my trade.' +I stood with watery hat in hand, glaring. 'Could this be feigning?' +'What else?' said he. 'Why, a real fit is the sorriest thing; but a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span> +stroke with a feather compared with mine. Art still betters nature.' +'But look, e'en now blood trickleth from your nose,' said I. 'Ay, +ay, pricked my nostrils with a straw.' 'But ye foamed at the lips.' +'Oh, a little soap makes a mickle foam.' And he drew out a morsel +like a bean from his mouth. 'Thank thy stars, Bon Bec,' says he, +'for leading thee to a worthy master. Each day his lesson. To-morrow +we will study the cul de bois and other branches. To-day, +own me prince of demoniacs, and indeed of all good fellows.' Then, +being puffed up, he forgot yesterday's grudge, and discoursed me +freely of beggars; and gave me, who eftsoons thought a beggar was +a beggar, and there an end, the names and qualities of full thirty +sorts of masterful and crafty mendicants in France and Germany, +and England; his three provinces; for so the poor, proud knave +yclept those kingdoms three; wherein his throne it was the stocks +I ween. And outside the next village one had gone to dinner, and +left his wheel-barrow. So says he, 'I'll tie myself in a knot, and +shalt wheel me through; and what with my crippledom and thy +piety, a-wheeling of thy poor old dad, we'll bleed the bumpkins of +a dacha-saltee.' I did refuse. I would work for him; but no hand +would have in begging. 'And wheeling an "asker" in a barrow, is +not that work?' said he; 'then fling yon muckle stone in to boot: +stay, I'll soil it a bit, and swear it is a chip of the holy sepulchre; +and you wheeled us both from Jerusalem.' Said I, 'Wheeling a +pair o' lies, one stony, one fleshly, may be work, and hard work, +but honest work 'tis not. 'Tis fumbling with his tail you wot of. +And,' said I, 'master, next time you go to tempt me to knavery, +speak not to me of my poor old dad.' Said I, 'you have minded me +of my real father's face, the truest man in Holland. He and I are +ill friends now, worse luck. But though I offend him, shame him +I never will.' Dear Margaret, with this knave saying, 'your poor +old dad,' it had gone to my heart like a knife. ''Tis well,' said +my master, gloomily; 'I have made a bad bargain.' Presently he +halts, and eyes a tree by the wayside. 'Go spell me what is writ +on yon tree.' So I went, and there was nought but a long square +drawn in outline. I told him so. 'So much for thy monkish lore,' +quoth he. A little farther, and he sent me to read a wall. There +was nought but a circle scratched on the stone with a point of nail +or knife, and in the circle two dots. I said so. Then said he, +'Bon Bec, that square was a warning. Some good Truand left it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span> +that came through this village faring west; that means "dangerous." +The circle with the two dots was writ by another of our brotherhood; +and it signifies as how the writer, soit Rollin Trapu, soit +Triboulet, soit Catin Cul de Bois, or what not, was <i>becked</i> for +<i>asking</i> here, and lay two months in Starabin.' Then he broke forth, +'Talk of your little snivelling books that go in pouch. Three books +have I, France, England, and Germany; and they are writ all over in +one tongue, that my brethren of all countries understand; and that +is what I call learning. So sith here they whip sores, and imprison +infirmities, I to my tiring room.' And he popped behind the +hedge, and came back worshipful. We passed through the village, +and I sat me down on the stocks, and even as the barber's apprentice +whets his razor on a block, so did I flesh my psaltery on this village, +fearing great cities. I tuned it, and coursed up and down the +wires nimbly with my two wooden strikers; and then chanted loud +and clear, as I had heard the minstrels of the country,</p> + +<div class='center'> +'QUI VEUT OUÏR QUI VEUT SAVOIR,'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>some trash, I mind not what. And soon the villagers, male and +female, thronged about me; thereat I left singing, and recited them +to the psaltery a short but right merry tale out of 'the lives of the +saints,' which it is my handbook of pleasant figments: and this +ended, instantly struck up and whistled one of Cul de Jatte's devil's +ditties, and played it on the psaltery to boot. Thou knowest Heaven +hath bestowed on me a rare whistle, both for compass and tune. +And with me whistling bright and full this sprightly air, and making +the wires slow when the tune did gallop, and tripping when the +tune did amble, or I did stop and shake on one note like a lark i' +the air, they were like to eat me; but looking round, lo! my master +had given way to his itch, and there was his hat on the ground, and +copper pouring in. I deemed it cruel to whistle the bread out of +poverty's pouch; so broke off and away; yet could not get clear so +swift, but both men and women did slobber me sore, and smelled +all of garlic. 'There, master,' said I, 'I call that cleaving the divell +in twain and keeping his white half.' Said he, 'Bon Bec, I have +made a good bargain.' Then he bade me stay where I was while +he went to the Holy Land. I stayed, and he leaped the churchyard +dike, and the sexton was digging a grave, and my master chaffered +with him, and came back with a knuckle bone. But, why he clept<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> +a churchyard Holy Land, that I learned not then, but after dinner. +I was colouring the armories of a little inn; and he sat by me most +peaceable, a cutting, and filing, and polishing bones, sedately; so +I speered was not honest work sweet? 'As rain water,' said he, +mocking. 'What was he a making?' 'A pair of bones to play on +with thee; and with the refuse a St. Anthony's thumb and a St. +Martin's little finger, for the devout.' The vagabone! And now, +sweet Margaret, thou seest our manner of life faring Rhineward. +I with the two arts I had least prized or counted on for bread was +welcome everywhere; too poor now to fear robbers, yet able to keep +both master and man on the road. For at night I often made a +portraiture of the innkeeper or his dame, and so went richer from +an inn; the which it is the lot of few. But my master despised +this even way of life. 'I love ups and downs,' said he. And certes +he lacked them not. One day he would gather more than I in +three; another, to hear his tale, it had rained kicks all day in lieu +of 'saltees,' and that is pennies. Yet even then at heart he despised +me for a poor, mechanical soul, and scorned my arts, extolling his +own, the art of feigning.</div> + +<p>"Natheless, at odd times was he ill at his ease. Going through +the town of Aix, we came upon a beggar walking, fast by one hand +to a cart-tail, and the hangman a lashing his bare bloody back. He, +stout knave, so whipt, did not a jot relent; but I did wince at every +stroke; and my master hung his head.</p> + +<p>"'Soon or late, Bon Bec,' quoth he. 'Soon or late.' I seeing his +haggard face knew what he meaned. And at a town whose name +hath slipped me, but 'twas on a fair river, as we came to the foot of +the bridge, he halted and shuddered. 'Why, what is the coil,' said +I? 'Oh, blind,' said he, 'they are justifying there.' So nought +would serve him but take a boat, and cross the river by water. But +'twas out of the frying-pan, as the word goeth. For the boatmen +had scarce told us the matter, and that it was a man and a woman +for stealing glazed windows out of housen, and that the man was +hanged at daybreak, and the quean to be drowned, when lo; they +did fling her off the bridge, and fell in the water not far from us. +And oh! Margaret, the deadly splash! It ringeth in mine ears +even now. But worse was coming; for, though tied, she came up +and cried 'help help!' and I, forgetting all, and hearing a woman's +voice cry 'help!' was for leaping in to save her, and had surely done<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> +it, but the boatmen and Cul de Jatte clung round me, and in a +moment the bourreau's man, that waited in a boat, came and entangled +his hooked pole in her long hair, and so thrust her down and +ended her. Oh! if the saints answered so our cries for help! And +poor Cul de Jatte groaned, and I sat sobbing and beat my breast and +cried, 'Of what hath God made men's hearts?'"</p> + +<p>The reader stopped, and the tears trickled down her cheeks. +Gerard crying in Lorraine made her cry at Rotterdam. The +leagues were no more to her heart than the breadth of a room.</p> + +<p>Eli, softened by many touches in the letter, and by the reader's +womanly graces, said kindly enough, "Take thy time, lass. And +methinks some of ye might find her a creepie to rest her foot, and +she so near her own trouble."</p> + +<p>"I'd do more for her than that an I durst," said Catherine. +"Here, Cornelis," and she held out her little wooden stool, and that +worthy, who hated Margaret worse than ever, had to take the +creepie and put it carefully under her foot.</p> + +<p>"You are very kind, dame," she faltered. "I will read on; 'tis +all I can do for you in turn."</p> + +<p>"Thus seeing my master ashy and sore shaken, I deemed this +horrible tragic act came timeously to warn him, so I strove sore to +turn him from his ill ways, discoursing of sinners and their lethal +end. 'Too late!' said he, 'too late!' and gnashed his teeth. Then +I told him 'too late' was the divell's favourite whisper in repentant +ears. Said I—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'The Lord is débonair,<br /> +Let sinners nought despair.'<br /> +</div> + +<p>'Too late!' said he, and gnashed his teeth, and writhed his face, as +though vipers were biting his inward parts. But, dear heart, his +was a mind like running water. Ere we cleared the town he was +carolling, and outside the gate hung the other culprit from the +bough of a little tree, and scarce a yard above the ground. And +that stayed my vagabone's music. But, ere we had gone another +furlong, he feigned to have dropped his rosary, and ran back, with +no good intent, as you shall hear. I strolled on very slowly, and +often halting, and presently he came stumping up on one leg, and +that bandaged. I asked him how he could contrive that, for 'twas +masterly done. 'Oh, that was his mystery. Would I know that I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385">[385]</a></span> +must join the brotherhood.' And presently we did pass a narrow +lane, and at the mouth on't espied a written stone, telling beggars +by a word like a wee pitchfork to go that way. ''Tis yon farm-house,' +said he: 'bide thou at hand.' And he went to the house, +and came back with money, food, and wine. 'This lad did the +business,' said he, slapping his one leg proudly. Then he undid +the bandage, and with prideful face showed me a hole in his calf +you could have put your neef in. Had I been strange to his tricks, +here was a leg had drawn my last penny. Presently another farm-house +by the road. He made for it. I stood and asked myself +should I run away and leave him, not to be shamed in my own despite +by him? But, while I doubted, there was a great noise, and +my master well cudgelled by the farmer and his men, and came towards +me hobbling and holloaing; for the peasants had layed on +heartily. But more trouble was at his heels. Some mischievous +wight loosed a dog as big as a jackass colt, and came roaring after +him, and downed him momently. I deeming the poor rogue's death +certain, and him least fit to die, drew my sword and ran shouting. +But, ere I could come near, the muckle dog had torn away his bad +leg, and ran growling to his lair with it; and Cul de Jatte slipped +his knot, and came running like a lapwing, with his hair on end, +and so striking with both crutches before and behind at unreal +dogs as 'twas like a windmill crazed. He fled adown the road. I +followed leisurely, and found him at dinner. 'Curse the quiens,' +said he. And not a word all dinner-time but 'curse the quiens!'</p> + +<p>"I said I must know who they were before I would curse them.</p> + +<p>"'Quiens? why that was dogs. And I knew not even that much? +He had made a bad bargain.' 'Well, well,' said he; 'to-morrow we +shall be in Germany. There the folk are music-bitten, and they +molest not beggars, unless they fake to boot, and then they drown +us out of hand that moment, curse 'em!' We came to Strasburgh. +And I looked down Rhine with longing heart. The stream how +swift! It seemed running to clip Sevenbergen to its soft bosom. +With but a piece of timber and an oar, I might drift at my ease to +thee, sleeping yet gliding still. 'Twas a sore temptation. But the +fear of an ill welcome from my folk, and of the neighbours' sneers, +and the hope of coming back to thee victorious, not, as now I must, +defeated and shamed, and thee with me, it did withhold me; and +so, with many sighs, and often turning of the head to look on beloved<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span> +Rhine, I turned sorrowful face and heavy heart towards Augsburg."</p> + +<p>"Alas, dame, alas. Good master Eli, forgive me! But I ne'er +can win over this part all at one time. It taketh my breath away. +Well-a-day! Why did he not listen to his heart? Had he not gone +through peril enow, sorrow enow? Well-a-day! well-a-day!"</p> + +<p>The letter dropped from her hand, and she drooped like a +wounded lily.</p> + +<p>Then there was a clatter on the floor, and it was little Kate going +on her crutches, with flushed face, and eyes full of pity, to console +her. "Water, mother," she cried. "I am afeard she shall swoon."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, fear me not," said Margaret, feebly. "I will not be +so troublesome. Thy good will it maketh me stouter hearted, sweet +mistress Kate. For, if thou carest how I fare, sure Heaven is not +against me."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "D'ye hear that, my man?"</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Ay, wife, I hear; and mark to boot."</p> + +<p>Little Kate went back to her place, and Margaret read on. "The +Germans are fonder of armorials than the French. So I found work +every day. And, whiles I wrought, my master would leave me, and +doff his raiment and don his rags, and other infirmities, and cozen +the world, which he did clepe it 'plucking of the goose:' this done, +would meet me and demand half my earnings; and with restless +piercing eye ask me would I be so base as cheat my poor master by +making three parts in lieu of two, till I threatened to lend him a +cuff to boot in requital of his suspicion; and thenceforth took his due, +with feigned confidence in my good faith, the which his dancing eye +belied. Early in Germany we had a quarrel. I had seen him buy +a skull of a jailer's wife, and mighty zealous a polishing it. +Thought I, 'How can he carry yon memento, and not repent, seeing +where ends his way?' Presently I did catch him selling it to +a woman for the head of St. Barnabas, with a tale had cozened an +Ebrew. So I snatched it out of their hands, and trundled it into +the ditch. 'How, thou impious knave,' said I, 'wouldst sell for a +saint the skull of some dead thief, thy brother.' He slunk away. +But shallow she did crawl after the skull, and with apron reverently +dust it for Barnabas, and it Barabbas; and so home with it. Said +I, 'non vult anser velli, sed populus vult decipi.'"</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Oh, the goodly Latin!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "What meaneth it?"</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Nay, I know not; but 'tis Latin: is not that enow? +He was the flower of the flock."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Then I to him, 'Take now thy psaltery, and part we here, for +art a walking prison, a walking hell.' But lo! my master fell on +his knees, and begged me for pity's sake not turn him off. 'What +would become of him? He did so love honesty.' 'Thou love honesty?' +said I. 'Ay,' said he, 'not to enact it; the saints forbid. But +to look on. 'Tis so fair a thing to look on. Alas, good Bon Bec,' +said he; 'hadst starved peradventure but for me. Kick not down +thy ladder! Call ye that just? Nay, calm thy choler! Have +pity on me! I must have a pal: and how could I bear one like +myself after one so simple as thou? He might cut my throat for +the money that is hid in my belt. 'Tis not much; 'tis not much. +With thee I walk at mine ease; with a sharp I dare not go before +in a narrow way. Alas! forgive me. Now I know where in thy +bonnet lurks the bee, I will ware his sting; I will but pluck the +secular goose.' 'So be it,' said I. 'And example was contagious: +he should be a true man by then we reached Nurnberg. 'Twas a +long way to Nurnberg.' Seeing him so humble, I said, 'Well, doff +rags, and make thyself decent; 'twill help me forget what thou art.' +And he did so; and we sat down to our nonemete. Presently came +by a reverend palmer with hat stuck round with cockle shells from +Holy Land, and great rosary of beads like eggs of teal, and sandals +for shoes. And he leaned aweary on his long staff, and offered us +a shell apiece. My master would none. But I to set him a better +example, took one, and for it gave the poor pilgrim two batzen, and +had his blessing. And he was scarce gone, when we heard savage +cries, and came a sorry sight, one leading a wild woman in a chain, +all rags, and howling like a wolf. And when they came nigh us, +she fell to tearing her rags to threads. The man sought an alms of +us, and told us his hard case. 'Twas his wife, stark raving mad; +and he could not work in the fields, and leave her in his house to fire +it, nor cure her could he without the Saintys help, and had vowed +six pounds of wax to St. Anthony to heal her, and so was fain beg +of charitable folk for the money. And now she espied us, and flew +at me with her long nails, and I was cold with fear, so devilish +showed her face and rolling eyes and nails like birdys talons. But +he with the chain checked her sudden, and with his whip did cruelly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span> +lash her for it, that I cried 'Forbear! forbear! She knoweth not +what she doth;' and gave him a batz. And being gone, said I, +'Master of those twain I know not which is the more pitiable.' And +he laughed in my face. 'Behold thy justice, Bon Bec,' said he. +'Thou railest on thy poor, good, within-an-ace-of-honest, master, and +bestowest alms on a "vopper."' 'Vopper,' said I; 'what is a vopper? +'Why a trull that feigns madness. That was one of us, that sham +maniac, and wow but she did it clumsily. I blushed for her and +thee. Also gavest two batzen for a shell from Holy Land, that +came no farther than Normandy. I have culled them myself on +that coast by scores, and sold them to pilgrims true and pilgrims +false, to gull flats like thee withal.' 'What!' said I; 'that reverend +man?' 'One of us!' cried Cul de Jatte; 'one of us! In France +we call them "Coquillarts," but here "Calmierers." Railest on me +for selling a false relic now and then, and wastest thy earnings on +such as sell nought else. I tell thee, Bon Bec,' said he, 'there is +not one true relic on earth's face. The saints died a thousand +years agone, and their bones mixed with the dust; but the trade in +relics, it is of yesterday; and there are forty thousand tramps in +Europe live by it; selling relics of forty or fifty bodies; oh, threadbare +lie! And of the true Cross enow to build Cologne Minster. +Why then may not poor Cul de Jatte turn his penny with the +crowd? Art but a scurvy tyrannical servant to let thy poor master +from his share of the swag with your whorson pilgrims, palmers, +and friars, black, grey, and crutched; for all these are of our +brotherhood, and of our art, only masters they, and we but poor apprentices, +in guile.' For his tongue was an ell and a half.</p> + +<p>"'A truce to thy irreverend sophistries,' said I, 'and say what +company is this a-coming.' 'Bohemians,' cried he. 'Ay, ay, this +shall be the rest of the band.' With that came along so motley a +crew as never your eyes beheld, dear Margaret. Marched at their +head one with a banner on a steel-pointed lance, and girded with a +great long sword, and in velvet doublet and leathern jerkin, the +which stuffs ne'er saw I wedded afore on mortal flesh, and a gay +feather in his lordly cap, and a couple of dead fowls at his back, +the which, an the spark had come by honestly, I am much mistook. +Him followed wives and babes on two lean horses, whose flanks still +rattled like parchment drum, being beaten by kettles and caldrons. +Next an armed man a-riding of a horse, which drew a cart full of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> +females and children: and in it, sitting backwards, a lusty lazy +knave, lance in hand, with his luxurious feet raised on a holy water +pail, that lay along, and therein a cat, new kittened, sat glowing +o'er her brood, and sparks for eyes. And the cart-horse cavalier +had on his shoulders a round bundle, and thereon did perch a cock +and crowed with zeal, poor ruffler, proud of his brave feathers as +the rest, and haply with more reason, being his own. And on an +ass another wife and new-born child; and one poor quean a-foot +scarce dragged herself along, so near her time was she, yet held two +little ones by the hand, and helplessly helped them on the road. +And the little folk were just a farce; some rode sticks, with horses' +heads, between their legs, which pranced and caracoled, and soon +wearied the riders so sore, they stood stock still and wept, which +cavaliers were presently taken into cart and cuffed. And one more +grave, lost in a man's hat and feather, walked in Egyptian darkness, +handed by a girl; another had the great saucepan on his back, +and a tremendous three-footed clay pot sat on his head and shoulders, +swallowing him so as he too went darkling led by his sweetheart +three foot high. When they were gone by, and we had both +laughed lustily, said I, 'Natheless, master, my bowels they yearn +for one of that tawdry band, even for the poor wife so near the +down-lying, scarce able to drag herself, yet still, poor soul, helping +the weaker on the way.'"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Nay, nay, Margaret. Why, wench, pluck up heart. +Certes thou art no Bohemian."</p> + +<p><i>Kate.</i>] "Nay, mother, 'tis not that, I trow, but her father. And, +dear heart, why take notice to put her to the blush?"</p> + +<p><i>Richart.</i>] "So I say."</p> + +<p>"And he derided me. 'Why that is a "biltreger,"' said he, 'and +you waste your bowels on a pillow, or so forth.' I told him he +lied. 'Time would show,' said he, 'wait till they camp.' And +rising after meat and meditation, and travelling forward, we found +them camped between two great trees on a common by the wayside; +and they had lighted a great fire, and on it was their caldron; and, +one of the trees slanting o'er the fire, a kid hung down by a chain +from the tree-fork to the fire, and in the fork was wedged an urchin +turning still the chain to keep the meat from burning, and a gay +spark with a feather in his cap cut up a sheep; and another had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span> +spitted a leg of it on a wooden stake; and a woman ended chanticleer's +pride with wringing of his neck. And under the other +tree four ruffers played at cards and quarrelled, and no word sans +oath; and of these lewd gamblers one had cockles in his hat, and was +my reverend pilgrim. And a female, young and comely, and +dressed like a butterfly, sat and mended a heap of dirty rags. And +Cul de Jatte said, 'Yon is the "vopper," 'and I looked incredulous +and looked again, and it was so, and at her feet sat he that had so +late lashed her; but I ween he had wist where to strike, or woe betide +him; and she did now oppress him sore, and made him thread +her very needle, the which he did with all humility; so was their +comedy turned seamy side without: and Cul de Jatte told me 'twas +still so with 'voppers' and their men in camp; they would don their +bravery though but for an hour, and, with their tinsel, empire, and +the man durst not the least gainsay the 'vopper,' or she would turn +him off at these times, as I my master, and take another tyrant +more submissive. And my master chuckled over me. Natheless +we soon espied a wife set with her back against the tree, and her +hair down, and her face white, and by her side a wench held up to +her eye a new-born babe, with words of cheer, and the rough fellow, +her husband, did bring her hot wine in a cup, and bade her take +courage. And, just o'er the place she sat, they had pinned from +bough to bough of those neighbouring trees two shawls, and blankets +two, together, to keep the drizzle off her. And so had another +poor little rogue come into the world: and by her own particular +folk tended gipsywise, but of the roasters, and boilers, and voppers, +and gamblers, no more noticed, no not for a single moment, than +sheep which droppeth her lamb in a field, by travellers upon the +way. Then said I, 'What of thy foul suspicions, master? over-knavery +blinds the eye as well as over-simplicity.' And he laughed +and said, 'Triumph, Bon Bec, triumph. The chances were nine +in ten against thee.' Then I did pity her, to be in a crowd at such +a time; but he rebuked me. 'I should pity rather your queens and +royal duchesses, which by law are condemned to groan in a crowd +of nobles and courtiers, and do writhe with shame as well as sorrow, +being come of decent mothers, whereas these gipsy women have no +more shame under their skins than a wolf ruth, or a hare valour. +And, Bon Bec,' quoth he, 'I espy in thee a lamentable fault. +Wastest thy bowels. Wilt have none left for thy poor good master<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span> +which doeth thy will by night and day.' Then we came forward; +and he talked with the men in some strange Hebrew cant whereof +no word knew I; and the poor knaves bade us welcome and denied +us nought. With them, and all they had, 'twas lightly come and +lightly go; and when we left them my master said to me, 'This is +thy first lesson, but to-night we shall lie at Hansburgh. Come with +me to the "rotboss" there, and I'll show thee all our folk and their +lays, and especially "the lossners," "the dutzers," "the schleppers," +"the gickisses," "the schwanfelders," whom in England we call +"shivering Jemmies," "the süntvegers," "the schwiegers," "the +joners," "the sessel-degers," "the gensscherers," in France "marcandiers +or rifodés," "the veranerins," "the stabulers," with a few +foreigners like ourselves, such as "pietres," "francmitoux," "polissons," +"malingreux," "traters," "rufflers," "whipjalks," "dommerars," +"glymmerars," "jarkmen," "patricos," "swadders," "autem morts," +"walking morts,"'—'Enow,' cried I, stopping him, 'art as gleesome +as the Evil one a counting of his imps. I'll jot down in my +tablet all these caitiffs and their accursed names, for knowledge is +knowledge. But go among them, alive or dead, that will I not +with my good will. Moreover,' said I, 'what need? since I have +a companion in thee who is all the knaves on earth in one?' and +thought to abash him; but his face shone with pride, and hand on +breast he did bow low to me. 'If thy wit be scant, good Bon Bec, +thy manners are a charm. I have made a good bargain.' So he to +the 'rotboss,' and I to a decent inn, and sketched the landlord's +daughter by candle-light, and started at morn batzen three the +richer, but could not find my master, so loitered slowly on, and +presently met him coming west for me, and cursing the quiens. +Why so? Because he could blind the culls but not the quiens. +At last I prevailed on him to leave cursing and canting, and tell +me his adventure. Said he, 'I sat outside the gate of yon monastery, +full of sores, which I showed the passers-by. Oh, Bon Bec, +beautifuller sores you never saw: and it rained coppers in my hat. +Presently the monks came home from some procession, and the +convent dogs ran out to meet them, curse the quiens!' 'What, did +they fall on thee and bite thee, poor soul?' 'Worse, worse, dear +Bon Bec. Had they bitten me I had earned silver. But the +great idiots, being, as I think, puppies, or little better, fell on me +where I sat, downed me, and fell a licking my sores among them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> +As thou, false knave, didst swear the whelps in heaven licked the +sores of Lazybones, a beggar of old.' 'Nay, nay,' said I, 'I said +no such thing. But tell me, since they bit thee not, but sportfully +licked thee, what harm?' 'What harm, noodle, why the sores came +off.' 'How could that be?' 'How could aught else be? and them +just fresh put on. Did I think he was so weak as bite holes in +his flesh with ratsbane? Nay, he was an artist, a painter like his +servant, and had put on sores made of pig's blood, rye meal, and +glue. So when the folk saw my sores go on tongues of puppies, +they laughed, and I saw cord or sack before me. So up I jumped, +and shouted, "a miracle! a miracle! The very dogs of this holy +convent be holy, and have cured me. Good fathers," cried I, +"whose day is this?" "St. Isidore's," said one. "St. Isidore," +cried I, in a sort of rapture. "Why, St. Isidore is my patron +saint: so that accounts." And the simple folk swallowed my miracle +as those accursed quiens my wounds. But the monks took +me inside and shut the gate, and put their heads together; but I +have a quick ear, and one did say "caret miraculo monasterium," +which is Greek patter I trow, leastways it is no beggar's cant. +Finally they bade the lay-brethren give me a hiding, and take me +out a back way and put me on the road, and threatened me did I +come back to the town to hand me to the magistrate and have me +drowned for a plain impostor. "Profit now by the Church's grace," +said they, "and mend thy ways." So forward, Bon Bec, for my +life is not sure nigh hand this town.' As he went he worked his +shoulders, 'Wow but the brethren laid on. And what means yon +piece of monk's cant, I wonder?' So I told him the words meant +'the monastery is in want of a miracle,' but the application thereof +was dark to me. 'Dark,' cried he, 'dark as noon. Why it means +they are going to work the miracle, my miracle, and gather all the +grain I sowed. Therefore these blows on their benefactor's shoulders; +therefore is he that wrought their scurvy miracle driven +forth with stripes and threats. Oh, cozening knaves!' Said I, +'becomes you to complain of guile.' 'Alas, Bon Bec,' said he, 'I but +outwit the simple; but these monks would pluck Lucifer of his wing +feathers.' And went a league bemoaning himself that he was not +convent-bred like his servant. 'He would put it to more profit;' +and railing on quiens. 'And as for those monks, there was one +Above.' 'Certes,' said I, 'there is one Above. What then?' 'Who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span> +will call those shavelings to compt, one day,' quoth he. 'And all deceitful +men,' said I. At one that afternoon I got armories to paint: +so my master took the yellow jaundice and went begging through the +town, and with his oily tongue, and saffron-water face, did fill his hat. +Now in all the towns are certain licensed beggars, and one of these was +an old favourite with the townsfolk: had his station at St. Martin's +porch, the greatest church: a blind man: they called him blind Hans. +He saw my master drawing coppers on the other side of the street, +and knew him by his tricks for an impostor, so sent and warned +the constables, and I met my master in the constables' hands, and +going to his trial in the town hall. I followed and many more; +and he was none abashed, neither by the pomp of justice, nor +memory of his misdeeds, but demanded his accuser like a trumpet. +And blind Hans's boy came forward, but was sifted narrowly by my +master, and stammered, and faltered, and owned he had seen nothing, +but only carried blind Hans's tale to the chief constable. 'This +is but hearsay,' said my master. 'Lo ye now, here standeth Misfortune +backbit by Envy. But stand thou forth, blind Envy, and +vent thine own lie.' And blind Hans behoved to stand forth, sore +against his will. Him did my master so press with questions, and +so pinch and torture, asking him again and again, how, being blind, +he could see all that befell, and some that befell not, across a +way; and why, an he could not see, he came there holding up his perjured +hand, and maligning the misfortunate, that at last he groaned +aloud and would utter no word more. And an alderman said, +'In sooth, Hans, ye are to blame: hast cast more dirt of suspicion +on thyself than on him." But the burgomaster, a wondrous fat +man, and methinks of his fat some had gotten into his head, checked +him and said, 'Nay, Hans we know this many years, and, be he +blind or not, he hath passed for blind so long, 'tis all one. Back +to thy porch, good Hans, and let the strange varlet leave the town +incontinent on pain of whipping.' Then my master winked to me; +but there rose a civic officer in his gown of state and golden chain, +a Dignity with us lightly prized, and even shunned of some, but in +Germany and France much courted, save by condemned malefactors; +to wit the hangman; and says he, 'An't please you, first let us see +why he weareth his hair so thick and low.' And his man went and +lifted Cul de Jatte's hair, and lo the upper gristle of both ears +was gone. 'How is this, knave?' quoth the burgomaster. My<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> +master said, carelessly, he minded not precisely: his had been a +life of misfortunes and losses. 'When a poor soul has lost use +of his leg, noble sirs, these more trivial woes rest lightly in his +memory.' When he found this would not serve his turn, he named +two famous battles, in each of which he had lost half an ear, a +fighting like a true man against traitors and rebels. But the hangman +showed them the two cuts were made at one time, and by measurement. +''Tis no bungling soldier's work, my masters,' said he, +''tis ourn.' Then the burgomaster gave judgment: 'The present +charge is not proven against thee; but, an thou beest not guilty now, +thou hast been at other times, witness thine ears. Wherefore I send +thee to prison for one month, and to give a florin towards the new hall +of the guilds now a building, and to be whipt out of the town, and +pay the hangman's fee for the same.' And all the aldermen +approved, and my master was haled to prison with one look of +anguish. It did strike my bosom. I tried to get speech of him, +but the jailer denied me. But lingering near the jail I heard a +whistle, and there was Cul de Jatte at a narrow window twenty +feet from earth. I went under, and he asked me what made I +there? I told him I was loth to go forward and not bid him farewell. +He seemed quite amazed; but soon his suspicious soul got +the better. That was not all mine errand. I told him not all: the +psaltery: 'Well, what of that?' 'Twas not mine, but his; I would +pay him the price of it. 'Then throw me a rix dollar,' said he. +I counted out my coins, and they came to a rix dollar and two batzen. +I threw him up his money in three throws, and when he had got it +all he said, softly, 'Bon Bec.' 'Master,' said I. Then the poor +rogue was greatly moved. 'I thought ye had been mocking +me,' said he; 'oh, Bon Bec, Bon Bec, if I had found the world +like thee at starting I had put my wit to better use, and I had not +lain here.' Then he whimpered out, 'I gave not quite a rix dollar +for the jingler;' and threw me back that he had gone to cheat +me of; honest for once, and over late; and so, with many sighs, +bade me Godspeed. Thus did my master, after often baffling men's +justice, fall by their injustice; for his lost ears proved not his guilt +only, but of that guilt the bitter punishment: so the account was +even; yet they for his chastisement did chastise him. Natheless +he was a parlous rogue. Yet he holp to make a man of me. +Thanks to his good wit I went forward richer far with my psaltery<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span> +and brush, than with yon as good as stolen purse; for that must +have run dry in time, like a big trough, but these a little fountain."</p> + +<p><i>Richart.</i>] "How pregnant his reflections be; and but a curly pated +lad when last I saw him. Asking your pardon, mistress. Prithee +read on."</p> + +<p>"One day I walked alone, and, sooth to say, light hearted, for +mine honest Denys sweetened the air on the way; but poor Cul de +Jatte poisoned it. The next day, passing a grand house, out came +on prancing steeds a gentleman in brave attire and two servants; +they overtook me. The gentleman bade me halt. I laughed in +my sleeve; for a few batzen were all my store. He bade me doff +my doublet and jerkin. Then I chuckled no more. 'Bethink you, +my lord,' said I, ''tis winter. How may a poor fellow go bare +and live?' So he told me I shot mine arrow wide of his thought; +and off with his own gay jerkin, richly furred, and doublet to +match, and held them forth to me. Then a servant let me know it +was a penance. 'His lordship had had the ill luck to slay his +cousin in their cups.' Down to my shoes he changed with me; +and set me on his horse like a popinjay, and fared by my side in my +worn weeds, with my psaltery on his back. And said he, 'Now, +good youth, thou art Count Detstein; and I, late count, thy Servant. +Play thy part well, and help me save my blood-stained soul! Be +haughty and choleric, as any noble; and I will be as humble as I +may.' I said I would do my best to play the noble. But what +should I call him? He bade me call him nought but Servant. +That would mortify him most, he wist. We rode on a long way in +silence: for I was meditating this strange chance, that from a beggar's +servant had made me master to a count, and also cudgelling +my brains how best I might play the master, without being run +through the body all at one time like his cousin. For I mistrusted +sore my spark's humility; your German nobles being, to my knowledge, +proud as Lucifer, and choleric as fire. As for the servants, +they did slily grin to one another to see their master so humbled—"</p> + +<p>"<i>Ah! what is that?</i>"</p> + +<p>A lump, as of lead, had just bounced against the door, and the +latch was fumbled with unsuccessfully. Another bounce, and the +door swung inwards with Giles arrayed in cloth of gold sticking to +it like a wasp. He landed on the floor and was embraced; but,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span> +on learning what was going on, trumpeted that he would much liever +hear of Gerard than gossip.</p> + +<p>Sybrandt pointed to a diminutive chair.</p> + +<p>Giles showed his sense of this civility by tearing the said Sybrandt +out of a very big one, and there ensconced himself gorgeous and +glowing. Sybrandt had to wedge himself into the one, which was too +small for the magnificent dwarf's soul, and Margaret resumed. +But as this part of the letter was occupied with notices of places, +all which my reader probably knows, and, if not, can find handled at +large in a dozen well-known books, from Munster to Murray, I +skip the topography, and hasten to that part where it occurred to +him to throw his letter into a journal. The personal narrative that +intervened may be thus condensed.</p> + +<p>He spoke but little at first to his new companions, but listened +to pick up their characters. Neither his noble Servant nor his servants +could read or write; and as he often made entries in his tablets, +he impressed them with some awe. One of his entries was +"Le peu que sont les hommes." For he found the surly innkeepers +licked the very ground before him now; nor did a soul suspect the +hosier's son in the count's feathers, nor the count in the minstrel's +weeds. This seems to have surprised him; for he enlarged on it +with the naïveté and pomposity of youth. At one place, being +humbly requested to present the inn with his armorial bearings, he +consented loftily; but painted them himself, to mine host's wonder, +who thought he lowered himself by handling brush. The true count +stood grinning by, and held the paint-pot, while the sham count +painted a shield with three red herrings rampant under a sort of +Maltese cross made with two ell-measures. At first his plebeian +servants were insolent. But this coming to the notice of his noble +one, he forgot what he was doing penance for, and drew his sword +to cut off their ears, heads included. But Gerard interposed and +saved them, and rebuked the count severely. And finally they all +understood one another, and the superior mind obtained its natural +influence. He played the barbarous noble of that day vilely. For +his heart would not let him be either tyrannical or cold. Here were +three human beings. He tried to make them all happier than he +was; held them ravished with stories, and songs, and set Herr +Penitent & Co. dancing, with his whistle and psaltery. For his own +convenience he made them ride and tie, and thus pushed rapidly +through the country, travelling generally fifteen leagues a day.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span></p> +<h2><span class="smcap">Diary</span></h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"THIS first of January I observed a young man of the country +to meet a strange maiden, and kissed his hand, and +then held it out to her. She took it with a smile, and lo! +acquaintance made; and babbled like old friends. Greetings so +pretty and delicate I ne'er did see. Yet were they both of the baser +sort. So the next lass I saw a coming, I said to my servant lord, +'For further penance bow thy pride; go meet yon base-born girl; +kiss thy homicidal hand, and give it her, and hold her in discourse +as best ye may.' And my noble Servant said, humbly, 'I shall obey +my lord.' And we drew rein and watched while he went forward, +kissed his hand and held it out to her. Forthwith she took it smiling, +and was most affable with him, and he with her. Presently came up +a band of her companions. So this time I bade him doff his bonnet +to them, as though they were empresses; and he did so. And lo! +the lasses drew up as stiff as hedge-stakes, and moved not nor +spake."</div> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] "Aie! aie! aie! Pardon, the company."</p> + +<p>"This surprised me none; for so they did discountenance poor +Denys. And that whole day I wore in experimenting these German +lasses; and 'twas still the same. An' ye doff bonnet to them they +stiffen into statues; distance for distance. But accost them with +honest freedom, and with that customary, and, though rustical, most +gracious proffer, of the kissed hand, and they withhold neither their +hands in turn nor their acquaintance in an honest way. Seeing +which I vexed myself that Denys was not with us to prattle with +them; he is so fond of women." ("Are you fond of <i>women</i>, +Denys?") And the reader opened two great violet eyes upon him +with gentle surprise.</p> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] "Ahem! He says so, she-comrade. By Hannibal's helmet +'tis their fault, not mine. They <i>will</i> have such soft voices, and +white skins, and sunny hair, and dark blue eyes, and—"</p> + +<p><i>Margaret.</i>] (Reading suddenly.) "Which their affability I put +to profit thus. I asked them how they made shift to grow roses +in yule? For know, dear Margaret, that throughout Germany the +baser sort of lasses wear for head-dress nought but a 'crantz,' or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span> +wreath of roses, encircling their bare hair, as laurel Cæsar's; and +though of the worshipful scorned, yet is braver, I wist, to your +eye and mine which painters be, though sorry ones, than the gorgeous, +uncouth, mechanical head-gear of the time, and adorns, not hides her +hair, that goodly ornament fitted to her head by craft divine. So +the good lasses, being questioned close, did let me know, the rose-buds +are cut in summer and laid then in great clay pots, thus +ordered:—first bay salt, then a row of buds, and over that row bay +salt sprinkled; then another row of buds placed crosswise; for they +say it is death to the buds to touch one another; and so on, buds and +salt in layers. Then each pot is covered and soldered tight, and kept +in cool cellar. And on Saturday night the master of the house, or +mistress, if master be none, opens a pot, and doles the rose-buds out +to every female in the house, high or low, withouten grudge; then +solders it up again. And such, as of these buds would full-blown +roses make, put them in warm water a little space, or else in the +stove, and then with tiny brush and soft, wetted in Rhenish wine, +do coax them till they ope their folds. And some perfume them +with rose-water. For, alack, their smell it is fled with the summer; +and only their fair bodyes lie withouten soul, in tomb of clay, awaiting +resurrection.</p> + +<p>"And some with the roses and buds mix nutmegs gilded, but +not by my good will; for gold, brave in itself, cheek by jowl with +roses, is but yellow earth. And it does the eye's heart good to see +these fair heads of hair come, blooming with roses, over snowy roads, +and by snow capt hedges, setting winter's beauty by the side of +summer's glory. For what so fair as winter's lilies, snow yclept, +and what so brave as roses? And shouldst have had a picture here, +but for their superstition. Leaned a lass in Sunday garb, cross ankled, +against her cottage corner, whose low roof was snowclad, and +with her crantz did seem a summer flower sprouting from winter's +bosom. I drew rein, and out pencil and brush to limn her for thee. +But the simpleton, fearing the evil eye, or glamour, claps both hands +to her face and flies panic-stricken. But, indeed, they are not more +superstitious than the Sevenbergen folk, which take thy father for a +magician. Yet softly, sith at this moment I profit by this darkness +of their minds; for, at first sitting down to write this diary, I could +frame nor thought nor word, so harried and deaved was I with noise +of mechanical persons, and hoarse laughter at dull jests of one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span> +these parti-coloured 'fools,' which are so rife in Germany. But, oh, +sorry wit, that is driven to the poor resource of pointed ear-caps, +and a green and yellow body. True wit, methinks, is of the mind. +We met in Burgundy an honest wench, though over free for my palate, +a chambermaid, had made havoc of all these zanies, droll by +brute force. Oh, Digressor! Well then, I to be rid of roaring rusticalls, +and mindless jests, put my finger in a glass and drew on the +table a great watery circle; whereat the rusticalls did look askant, +like venison at a cat; and in that circle a smaller circle. The rusticalls +held their peace; and besides these circles cabalistical, I laid +down on the table solemnly yon parchment deed I had out of your +house. The rusticalls held their breath. Then did I look as glum +as might be, and muttered slowly thus: 'Videamus—quam diu tu +fictus morio—vosque veri stulti—audebitis—in hâc aulâ morari, +strepitantes ita—et olentes—ut dulcissimæ nequeam miser scribere.' +They shook like aspens, and stole away on tiptoe one by one at first, +then in a rush and jostling, and left me alone; and most scared of all +was the fool: never earned jester fairer his ass's ears. So rubbed I +their foible, who first rubbed mine; for of all a traveller's foes I +dread those giants twain, Sir Noise, and eke Sir Stench. The +saints and martyrs forgive my peevishness. Thus I write to thee +in balmy peace, and tell thee trivial things scarce worth ink, also +how I love thee, which there was no need to tell, for well thou knowest +it. And, oh, dear Margaret, looking on their roses, which grew +in summer, but blow in winter, I see the picture of our true affection; +born it was in smiles and bliss, but soon adversity beset us sore +with many a bitter blast. Yet our love hath lost no leaf, thank +God, but blossoms full and fair as ever, proof against frowns, and +jibes, and prison, and banishment, as those sweet German flowers +a blooming in winter's snow.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 2nd.</i>—My servant, the count, finding me curious, took +me to the stables of the prince that rules this part. In the first +court was a horse-bath, adorned with twenty-two pillars, graven +with the prince's arms; and also the horse-leech's shop, so furnished +as a rich apothecary might envy. The stable is a fair quadrangle, +whereof three sides filled with horses of all nations. Before each +horse's nose was a glazed window, with a green curtain to be drawn +at pleasure, and at his tail a thick wooden pillar with a brazen shield, +whence by turning of a pipe he is watered, and serves too for a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span> +cupboard to keep his comb and rubbing clothes. Each rack was +iron, and each manger shining copper, and each nag covered with a +scarlet mantle, and above him his bridle and saddle hung, ready to +gallop forth in a minute; and not less than two hundred horses, +whereof twelve score of foreign breed. And we returned to our inn +full of admiration, and the two varlets said sorrowfully, 'Why were +we born with two legs?' And one of the grooms that was civil +and had of me trinkgeld, stood now at his cottage-door and asked us +in. There we found his wife and children of all ages, from five to +eighteen, and had but one room to bide and sleep in, a thing pestiferous +and most uncivil. Then I asked my Servant, knew he this +prince? Ay, did he, and had often drunk with him in a marble +chamber above the stable, where, for table, was a curious and artificial +rock, and the drinking vessels hang on its pinnacles, and at the +hottest of the engagement a statue of a horseman in bronze came +forth bearing a bowl of liquor, and he that sat nearest behoved to +drain it. ''Tis well,' said I: 'now for thy penance, whisper thou in +yon prince's ear, that God hath given him his people freely, and +not sought a price for them as for horses. And pray him look inside +the huts at his horse-palace door, and bethink himself it is well +to house his horses, and stable his folk.' Said he, ''Twill give sore +offence.' 'But,' said I, 'ye must do it discreetly and choose your +time.' So he promised. And riding on we heard plaintive cries. +'Alas,' said I, 'some sore mischance hath befallen some poor soul: +what may it be?' And we rode up, and lo! it was a wedding feast, +and the guests were plying the business of drinking sad and silent, +but ever and anon cried loud and dolefully, 'Seyte frolich! Be +merry.'</p> + +<p>"<i>January 3.</i>—Yesterday between Nurnberg and Augsburg we +parted company. I gave my lord, late Servant, back, his brave +clothes for mine, but his horse he made me keep, and five gold +pieces, and said he was still my debtor, his penance it had been +slight along of me, but profitable. But his best word was this: 'I see +'tis more noble to be loved than feared.' And then he did so praise +me as I blush to put on paper; yet, poor fool, would fain thou couldst +hear his words, but from some other pen than mine. And the servants +did heartily grasp my hand, and wish me good luck. And +riding apace, yet could I not reach Augsburg till the gates were +closed; but it mattered little, for this Augsburg it is an enchanted<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span> +city. For a small coin one took me a long way round to a famous +postern called der Einlasse. Here stood two guardians, like statues. +To them I gave my name and business. They nodded me +leave to knock; I knocked; and the iron gate opened with a great +noise and hollow rattling of a chain, but no hand seen nor chain; and +he, who drew the hidden chain, sits a butt's length from the gate; +and I rode in, and the gate closed with a clang after me. I found +myself in a great building with a bridge at my feet. This I rode +over and presently came to a porter's lodge, where one asked me +again my name and business, then rang a bell, and a great portcullis +that barred the way began to rise, drawn by a wheel overhead, and +no hand seen. Behind the portcullis was a thick oaken door studded +with steel. It opened without hand, and I rode into a hall as dark +as pitch. Trembling there a while, a door opened and showed me +a smaller hall lighted. I rode into it: a tin goblet came down from +the ceiling by a little chain: I put two batzen into it, and it went +up again. Being gone, another thick door creaked and opened, and +I rid through. It closed on me with a tremendous clang, and behold +me in Augsburg city. I lay at an inn called 'The Three Moors,' +over an hundred years old; and, this morning, according to my way of +viewing towns to learn their compass and shape, I mounted the +highest tower I could find, and setting my dial at my foot surveyed +the beautiful city: whole streets of palaces, and churches tiled with +copper burnished like gold; and the house fronts gaily painted and +all glazed, and the glass so clean and burnished as 'tis most resplendent +and rare; and I, now first seeing a great citie, did crow with +delight, and like a cock on his ladder, and at the tower foot was taken +into custody for a spy; for whilst I watched the city the watchman +had watched me. The burgomaster received me courteously and +heard my story; then rebuked he the officers. 'Could ye not question +him yourselves, or read in his face? This is to make our city stink +in stranger's report.' Then he told me my curiosity was of a commendable +sort: and seeing I was a craftsman and inquisitive, bade +his clerk take me among the guilds. God bless the city where the +very burgomaster is cut of Solomon's cloth!</p> + +<p>"<i>January 5.</i>—Dear Margaret, it is a noble city, and a kind +mother to arts. Here they cut in wood and ivory, that 'tis like +spiders' work, and paint on glass, and sing angelical harmonies. +Writing of books is quite gone by; here be six printers. Yet was I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span> +offered a bountiful wage to write fairly a merchant's accounts, one +Fugger, a grand and wealthy trader, and hath store of ships, yet +his father was but a poor weaver. But here in commerce, her very +garden, men swell like mushrooms. And he bought my horse of me, +and abated me not a jot, which way of dealing is not known in +Holland. But, oh, Margaret, the workmen of all the guilds are so +kind and brotherly to one another, and to me. Here, methinks, I +have found the true German mind, loyal, frank, and kindly, somewhat +choleric withal, but nought revengeful. Each mechanic wears +a sword. The very weavers at the loom sit girded with their weapons, +and all Germans on too slight occasion draw them and fight; +but no treachery: challenge first, then draw, and with the edge only, +mostly the face, not with Sir Point; for if in these combats one +thrust at his adversary and hurt him, 'tis called ein schelemstucke, +a heinous act; both men and women turn their backs on him, and +even the judges punish thrusts bitterly, but pass over cuts. Hence +in Germany be good store of scarred faces, three in five at least, and +in France scarce more than one in three.</p> + +<p>"But in arts mechanical no citizens may compare with these. +Fountains in every street that play to heaven, and in the gardens +seeming trees, which being approached, one standing afar touches +a spring, and every twig shoots water, and souses the guests to their +host's much delectation. Big culverins of war they cast with no +more ado than our folk horse-shoes, and have done this fourscore +years. All stuffs they weave, and linen fine as ours at home, or +nearly, which elsewhere in Europe vainly shall you seek. Sir Printing +Press—sore foe to poor Gerard, but to other humans beneficial—plieth +by night and day, and casteth goodly words like sower +afield; while I, poor fool, can but sow them as I saw women in +France sow rye, dribbling it in the furrow grain by grain. And +of their strange mechanical skill take two examples. For ending +of exemplary rogues they have a figure like a woman, seven feet +high, and called Jung Frau; but lo a spring is touched, she seizeth +the poor wretch with iron arms, and opening herself hales him +inside her, and there pierces him through and through with two +score lances. Secondly, in all great houses the spit is turned not +by a scrubby boy, but by smoke. Ay, mayst well admire, and judge +me a lying knave. These cunning Germans do set in the chimney +a little windmill, and the smoke struggling to wend past, turns it,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span> +and from the mill a wire runs through the wall and turns the spit on +wheels; beholding which I doffed my bonnet to the men of Augsburg, +for who but these had ere devised to bind ye so dark and subtle a +knave as Sir Smoke, and set him to roast Dame Pullet?</p> + +<p>"This day, January 8, with three craftsmen of the town, I +painted a pack of cards. They were for a senator in a hurry. I +the diamonds. My queen came forth with eyes like spring violets, +hair a golden brown, and witching smile. My fellow-craftsmen +saw her, and put their arms round my neck and hailed me master. +Oh, noble Germans! No jealousy of a brother-workman: no sour +looks at a stranger: and would have me spend Sunday with them after +matins; and the merchant paid me so richly, as I was ashamed to +take the guerdon: and I to my inn, and tried to paint the queen of +diamonds for poor Gerard; but no, she would not come like again. +Luck will not be bespoke. Oh, happy rich man that hath got her! +Fie! fie! Happy Gerard, that shall have herself one day, and keep +house with her at Augsburg.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 8.</i>—With my fellows, and one Veit Stoss, a wood-carver, +and one Hafnagel, of the goldsmiths' guild, and their wives +and lasses, to Hafnagel's cousin, a senator of this free city, and his +stupendious wine-vessel. It is ribbed like a ship, and hath been +eighteen months in hand, and finished but now, and holds a hundred +and fifty hogsheads, and standeth not, but lieth; yet even so ye get +not on his back withouten ladders two, of thirty steps. And we +sat about the miraculous mass, and drank Rhenish from it, drawn by +a little artificial pump, and the lasses pinned their crantzes to it, +and we danced round it, and the senator danced on its back, but with +drinking of so many garausses, lost his footing and fell off, glass +in hand, and broke an arm and a leg in the midst of us. So scurvily +ended our drinking bout for this time.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 10.</i>—This day started for Venice with a company of +merchants, and among them him who had desired me for his scrivener; +and so we are now agreed, I to write at night the letters he +shall dict, and other matters, he to feed and lodge me on the road. +We be many and armed, and soldiers with us to boot, so fear not +the thieves which men say lie on the borders of Italy. But an if I +find the printing press at Venice I trow I shall not go on to Rome, +for man may not vie with iron.</p> + +<p>"Imprimit una dies quantum non scribitur anno. And, dearest,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> +something tells me you and I shall end our days at Augsburg, whence +going, I shall leave it all I can—my blessing.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 12.</i>—My master affecteth me much, and now maketh +me sit with him in his horse-litter. A grave good man, of all respected, +but sad for loss of a dear daughter, and loveth my psaltery: +not giddy-paced ditties, but holy harmonies such as Cul de Jatte +made wry mouths at. So many men, so many minds. But cooped +in horse-litter and at night, writing his letters, my journal halteth.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 14.</i>—When not attending on my good merchant, I consort +with such of our company as are Italians, for 'tis to Italy I +wend, and I am ill seen in Italian tongue. A courteous and a subtle +people, at meat delicate feeders, and cleanly: love not to put their +left hand in the dish. They say Venice is the garden of Lombardy, +Lombardy the garden of Italy, Italy of the world.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 16.</i>—Strong ways and steep, and the mountain girls so +girded up, as from their armpits to their waist is but a handful. +Of all the garbs I yet have seen the most unlovely.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 18.</i>—In the midst of life we are in death. Oh! dear +Margaret, I thought I had lost thee. Here I lie in pain and dole, +and shall write thee that, which read you it in a romance ye should +cry 'most improbable!' And so still wondering that I am alive to +write it, and thanking for it God and the saints, this is what befell +thy Gerard. Yestreen I wearied of being shut up in litter, and of +the mule's slow pace, and so went forward; and being, I know not +why, strangely full of spirit and hope, as I have heard befall some +men when on trouble's brink, seemed to tread on air, and soon outdistanced +them all. Presently I came to two roads; and took the larger: +I should have taken the smaller. After travelling a good half-hour +I found my error and returned, and deeming my company had +long passed by, pushed bravely on, but I could not overtake them; +and small wonder, as you shall hear. Then I was anxious, and ran, +but bare was the road of those I sought, and night came down, and +the wild beasts afoot, and I bemoaned my folly, also I was hungered. +The moon rose clear and bright exceedingly, and presently, a little +way off the road, I saw a tall wind-mill. 'Come,' said I, 'mayhap +the miller will take ruth on me.' Near the mill was a haystack, and +scattered about were store of little barrels, but lo, they were not +flour-barrels but tar-barrels, one or two, and the rest of spirits, Brant +vein and Schiedam; I knew them momently, having seen the like in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span> +Holland. I knocked at the mill door, but none answered. I lifted +the latch and the door opened inwards. I went in, and gladly, for +the night was fine but cold, and a rime on the trees, which were a +kind of lofty sycamores. There was a stove, but black; I lighted it +with some of the hay and wood, for there was a great pile of wood +outside: and, I know not how, I went to sleep. Not long had I +slept, I trow, when hearing a noise I awoke, and there were a dozen +men around me, with wild faces, and long black hair, and black +sparkling eyes."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Oh, my poor boy! those blackhaired ones do still +scare me to look on."</p> + +<p>"I made my excuses in such Italian as I knew, and eking out by +signs. They grinned. 'I had lost my company.' They grinned. +I was an hungered. Still they grinned, and spoke to one another +in a tongue I knew not. At last one gave me a piece of bread and +a tin mug of wine, as I thought, but it was spirits neat. I made a +wry face, and asked for water: then these wild men laughed a horrible +laugh. I thought to fly, but, looking towards the door, it was +bolted with two enormous bolts of iron, and now first, as I ate my +bread, I saw it was all guarded too, and ribbed with iron. My blood +curdled within me, and yet I could not tell thee why; but hadst thou +seen the faces, wild, stupid, and ruthless. I mumbled my bread, +not to let them see I feared them; but oh, it cost me to swallow it and +keep it in me. Then it whirled in my brain, was there no way to +escape? Said I, 'They will not let me forth by the door; these be +smugglers or robbers.' So I feigned drowsiness, and taking out two +batzen said, 'Good men, for our Lady's grace let me lie on a bed and +sleep, for I am faint with travel.' They nodded and grinned their +horrible grin, and bade one light a lanthorn and lead me. He took +me up a winding staircase, up, up, and I saw no windows, but the +wooden walls were pierced like a barbican tower, and methinks for +the same purpose, and through these slits I got glimpses of the sky, +and thought, 'Shall I e'er see thee again?' He took me to the very +top of the mill, and there was a room with a heap of straw in one +corner, and many empty barrels, and by the wall a truckle bed. He +pointed to it, and went down stairs heavily, taking the light, for in +this room was a great window, and the moon came in bright. I +looked out to see, and lo it was so high that even the mill sails at +their highest came not up to my window by some feet, but turned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span> +very slow and stately underneath, for wind there was scarce a breath: +and the trees seemed silver filagree made by angel craftsmen. My +hope of flight was gone.</p> + +<p>"But now, those wild faces being out of sight, I smiled at my +fears: what an if they were ill men, would it profit them to hurt +me? Natheless, for caution against surprise, I would put the bed +against the door. I went to move it, but could not. It was free +at the head, but at the foot fast clamped with iron to the floor. So +I flung my psaltery on the bed, but for myself made a layer of straw +at the door, so as none could open on me unawares. And I laid +my sword ready to my hand. And said my prayers for thee and +me, and turned to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Below they drank and made merry. And hearing this gave +me confidence. Said I, 'Out of sight, out of mind. Another hour +and the good Schiedam will make them forget that I am here.' +And so I composed myself to sleep. And for some time could not +for the boisterous mirth below. At last I dropped off. How long I +slept I knew not; but I woke with a start: the noise had ceased below, +and the sudden silence woke me. And scarce was I awake, +when sudden the truckle bed was gone with a loud clang all but the +feet, and the floor yawned, and I heard my psaltery fall and break +to atoms deep, deep below the very floor of the mill. It had fallen +into a well. And so had I done, lying where it lay."</p> + +<p>Margaret shuddered and put her face in her hands. But speedily +resumed.</p> + +<p>"I lay stupefied at first. Then horror fell on me and I rose, but +stood rooted there, shaking from head to foot. At last I found myself +looking down into that fearsome gap, and my very hair did bristle +as I peered. And then, I remember, I turned quite calm, and +made up my mind to die sword in hand. For I saw no man must +know this their bloody secret and live. And I said 'Poor Margaret!' +And I took out of my bosom, where they lie ever, our marriage lines, +and kissed them again and again. And I pinned them to my shirt +again, that they might lie in one grave with me, if die I must. And +I thought 'All our love and hopes to end thus!'"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Whist all! Their marriage lines? Give her time! But +no word. I can bear no chat. My poor lad!"</p> + +<p>During the long pause that ensued Catherine leaned forward and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span> +passed something adroitly from her own lap under her daughter's +apron who sat next her.</p> + +<p>"Presently thinking, all in a whirl, of all that ever passed between +us, and taking leave of all those pleasant hours, I called to +mind how one day at Sevenbergen thou taughtest me to make a +rope of straw. Mindst thou? The moment memory brought that +happy day back to me, I cried out very loud: 'Margaret gives me +a chance for life even here.' I woke from my lethargy. I seized +on the straw and twisted it eagerly, as thou didst teach me, but my +fingers trembled and delayed the task. Whiles I wrought I heard +a door open below. That was a terrible moment. Even as I twisted +my rope I got to the window and looked down at the great arms of +the mill coming slowly up, then passing, then turning less slowly +down, as it seemed; and I thought 'They go not as when there is +wind: yet, slow or fast, what man rid ever on such steed as these, and +lived? Yet, said I, 'better trust to them and God, than to ill men.' +And I prayed to him whom even the wind obeyeth.</p> + +<p>"Dear Margaret, I fastened my rope, and let myself gently down, +and fixed my eye on that huge arm of the mill, which then was creeping +up to me, and went to spring on to it. But my heart failed me +at the pinch. And methought it was near enow. And it passed +calm and awful by. I watched for another; they were three. And +after a little while one crept up slower than the rest methought. +And I with my foot thrust myself in good time somewhat out from +the wall, and crying aloud 'Margaret!' did grip with all my soul +the wood work of the sail, and that moment was swimming in the +air."</p> + +<p><i>Giles.</i>] "<span class="smcap">Well done! well done!</span>"</p> + +<p>"Motion I felt little; but the stars seemed to go round the sky, +and then the grass came up to me nearer and nearer, and when the +hoary grass was quite close I was sent rolling along it as if hurled +from a catapult, and got up breathless, and every point and tie about +me broken. I rose, but fell down again in agony. I had but one +leg I could stand on."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Eh! dear! his leg is broke, my boy's leg is +broke."</p> + +<p>"And, e'en as I lay groaning, I heard a sound like thunder. It +was the assassins running up the stairs. The crazy old mill shook +under them. They must have found I had not fallen into their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span> +bloody trap, and were running to despatch me. Margaret, I felt +no fear, for I had now no hope. I could neither run, nor hide; so +wild the place, so bright the moon. I struggled up all agony +and revenge, more like some wounded wild beast than your Gerard. +Leaning on my sword hilt I hobbled round; and swift as lightning, +or vengeance, I heaped a great pile of their hay and wood at the +mill door; then drove my dagger into a barrel of their smuggled +spirits, and flung it on; then out with my tinder and lighted the +pile. 'This will bring true men round my dead body,' said I. +'Aha!' I cried, 'think you I'll die alone, cowards, assassins! reckless +fiends!' and at each word on went a barrel pierced. But, oh, Margaret! +the fire fed by the spirits surprised me: it shot up and singed +my very hair, it went roaring up the side of the mill, swift as falls +the lightning: and I yelled and laughed in my torture and despair, +and pierced more barrels, and the very tar-barrels, and flung them on. +The fire roared like a lion for its prey, and voices answered it inside +from the top of the mill, and the feet came thundering down, +and I stood as near that awful fire as I could with uplifted sword +to slay and be slain. The bolt was drawn. A tar-barrel caught +fire. The door was opened. What followed? Not the men came +out, but the fire rushed in at them like a living death, and the first +I thought to fight with was blackened and crumpled on the floor like +a leaf. One fearsome yell, and dumb for ever. The feet ran up +again, but fewer. I heard them hack with their swords a little way +up, at the mill's wooden sides; but they had no time to hew their way +out: the fire and reek were at their heels, and the smoke burst out +at every loophole, and oozed blue in the moonlight through each +crevice. I hobbled back, racked with pain and fury. There were +white faces up at my window. They saw me. They cursed me. +I cursed them back and shook my naked sword: 'Come down the +road I came,' I cried. 'But ye must come one by one, and, as ye +come, ye die upon this steel.' Some cursed at that, but others +wailed. For I had them all at deadly vantage. And doubtless +with my smoke-grimed face and fiendish rage I looked a demon. +And now there was a steady roar inside the mill. The flame was going +up it as furnace up its chimney. The mill caught fire. Fire +glimmered through it. Tongues of flame darted through each loophole +and shot sparks and fiery flakes into the night. One of the assassins +leaped on to the sail, as I had done. In his hurry he missed his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409">[409]</a></span> +grasp and fell at my feet, and bounded from the hard ground like a +ball, and never spoke, nor moved again. And the rest screamed +like women, and with their despair came back to me both ruth +for them and hope of life for myself. And the fire gnawed through +the mill in places, and shot forth showers of great flat sparks like +flakes of fiery snow; and the sails caught fire one after another; and +I became a man again and staggered away terror-stricken, leaning +on my sword, from the sight of my revenge, and with great bodily +pain crawled back to the road. And, dear Margaret, the rimy trees +were now all like pyramids of golden filagree, and lace, cobweb fine, +in the red firelight. Oh! most beautiful! And a poor wretch got +entangled in the burning sails, and whirled round screaming, and +lost hold at the wrong time, and hurled like stone from mangonel +high into the air; then a dull thump; it was his carcass striking +the earth. The next moment there was a loud crash. The mill fell +in on its destroyer, and a million great sparks flew up, and the sails +fell over the burning wreck, and at that a million more sparks flew +up, and the ground was strewn with burning wood and men. I +prayed God forgive me, and kneeling with my back to that fiery shambles, +I saw lights on the road; a welcome sight. It was a company +coming towards me, and scarce two furlongs off. I hobbled towards +them. Ere I had gone far I heard a swift step behind me. I turned. +One had escaped; how escaped, who can divine? His sword shone +in the moonlight. I feared him, methought the ghost of all those +dead sat on that glittering glaive. I put my other foot to the +ground, maugre the anguish, and fled towards the torches, moaning +with pain, and shouting for aid. But what could I do? He gained +on me. Behooved me turn and fight. Denys had taught me sword +play in sport. I wheeled, our swords clashed. His clothes they +smelled all singed. I cut swiftly upward with supple hand, and his +dangled bleeding at the wrist, and his sword fell; it tinkled on the +ground. I raised my sword to hew him should he stoop for't. He +stood and cursed me. He drew his dagger with his left; I opposed +my point and dared him with my eye to close. A great shout arose +behind me from true men's throats. He started. He spat at me in +his rage, then gnashed his teeth and fled blaspheming. I turned +and saw torches close at hand. Lo, they fell to dancing up and +down methought, and the next—moment—all—was—dark. I had—<i>ah!</i>"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Here, help! water! Stand aloof, you that be +men!"</p> + +<p>Margaret had fainted away.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LVI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN she recovered, her head was on Catherine's arm, and +the honest half of the family she had invaded like a foe +stood round her uttering rough homely words of encouragement, +especially Giles, who roared at her that she was not to take +on like that. "Gerard was alive and well, or he could not have writ +this letter, the biggest mankind had seen as yet, and," as he thought, +"the beautifulest, and most moving, and smallest writ."</div> + +<p>"Ay, good Master Giles," sighed Margaret feebly, "he <i>was</i> alive. +But how know I what hath since befallen him? Oh, why left he +Holland to go among strangers fierce as lions? And why did I not +drive him from me sooner than part him from his own flesh and +blood? Forgive me, you that are his mother!"</p> + +<p>And she gently removed Catherine's arm, and made a feeble attempt +to slide off the chair on to her knees, which, after a brief +struggle with superior force ended in her finding herself on Catherine's +bosom. Then Margaret held out the letter to Eli, and said +faintly but sweetly, "I will trust it from my hand now. In sooth, +I am little fit to read any more—and—and—loth to leave my comfort:" +and she wreathed her other arm round Catherine's neck.</p> + +<p>"Read thou, Richart," said Eli; "thine eyes be younger than +mine."</p> + +<p>Richart took the letter. "Well," said he, "such writing saw I +never. A writeth with a needle's point; and clear to boot. Why is +he not in my counting-house at Amsterdam instead of vagabonding +it out yonder?"</p> + +<p>"When I came to myself I was seated in the litter, and my good +merchant holding of my hand. I babbled I know not what, and +then shuddered awhile in silence. He put a horn of wine to my +lips."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Bless him! bless him!"</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Whist!"</p> + +<p>"And I told him what had befallen. He would see my leg. It<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span> +was sprained sore, and swelled at the ankle; and all my points were +broken, as I could scarce keep up my hose; and I said, 'Sir, I shall be +but a burden to you, I doubt, and can make you no harmony now; +my poor psaltery it is broken;' and I did grieve over my broken +music, companion of so many weary leagues. But he patted me on +the cheek, and bade me not fret; also he did put up my leg on a pillow, +and tended me like a kind father.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 14.</i>—I sit all day in the litter, for we are pushing forward +with haste, and at night the good kind merchant sendeth me to +bed, and will not let me work. Strange! whene'er I fall in with +men like fiends, then the next moment God still sendeth me some +good man or woman, lest I should turn away from human kind. +Oh, Margaret! how strangely mixed they be, and how old I am by +what I was three months agone! And lo! if good Master Fugger +hath not been and bought me a psaltery."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Eli, my man, an yon merchant comes our way let us +buy a hundred ells of cloth of him, and not higgle."</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "That will I, take your oath on't!"</p> + +<p>While Richart prepared to read, Kate looked at her mother, and +with a faint blush drew out the piece of work from under her +apron, and sewed, with head depressed a little more than necessary. +On this her mother drew a piece of work out of her pocket, and +sewed too, while Richart read. Both the specimens these sweet +surreptitious creatures now first exposed to observation were babies' +caps, and more than half finished, which told a tale. Horror! they +were like little monk's cowls in shape and delicacy.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 12.</i>—Laid up in the litter, and as good as blind, but, +halting to bait, Lombardy plains burst on me. Oh, Margaret! a land +flowing with milk and honey; all sloping plains, goodly rivers, jocund +meadows, delectable orchards, and blooming gardens; and, though +winter, looks warmer than poor beloved Holland at midsummer, +and makes the wanderer's face to shine and his heart to leap for joy +to see earth so kind and smiling. Here be vines, cedars, olives, and +cattle plenty, but three goats to a sheep. The draught oxen wear +white linen on their necks, and standing by dark green olive-trees +each one is a picture, and the folk, especially women wear delicate +strawen hats with flowers and leaves fairly imitated in silk, with silver +mixed. This day we crossed a river prettily in a chained ferry +boat. On either bank was a windlass, and a single man by turning<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span> +of it drew our whole company to his shore, whereat I did admire, +being a stranger. Passed over with us some country folk. And, +an old woman looking at a young wench, she did hide her face with +her hand, and held her crucifix out like knight his sword in tournay, +dreading the evil eye.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"<i>January 15.</i>—Safe at Venice. A place whose strange and passing +beauty is well known to thee by report of our mariners. Dost +mind too how Peter would oft fill our ears withal, we handed beneath +the table, and he still discoursing of this sea-enthroned and +peerless citie, in shape a bow, and its great canal and palaces on +piles, and its watery ways plied by scores of gilded boats; and +that market-place of nations, orbis, non urbis, forum, St. Mark his +place? And his statue with the peerless jewels in his eyes, and the +lion at his gate? But I, lying at my window in pain, may see none +of these beauties as yet, but only a street, fairly paced, which is dull, +and houses with oiled paper and linen, in lieu of glass, which is rude; +and the passers-by, their habits and their gestures, wherein they are +superfluous. Therefore, not to miss my daily comfort of whispering +to thee, I will e'en turn mine eyes inward, and bind my sheaves +of wisdom reaped by travel. For I love thee so, that no treasure +pleases me not shared with thee; and what treasure so good and enduring +as knowledge? This then have I, Sir Footsore, learned, +that each nation hath its proper wisdom, and its proper folly; and, +methinks, could a great king, or duke, tramp like me, and see with +his own eyes, he might pick the flowers, and eschew the weeds of +nations, and go home and set his own folk on Wisdom's hill. The +Germans in the north were churlish, but frank and honest; in the +south, kindly and honest too. Their general blot is drunkenness, +the which they carry even to mislike and contempt of sober men. +They say commonly, 'Kanstu niecht sauffen und fressen so kanstu +kienem hern wol dienen.' In England, the vulgar sort drink as +deep, but the worshipful hold excess in this a reproach, and drink +a health or two for courtesy, not gluttony, and still sugar the wine. +In their cups the Germans use little mirth, or discourse, but ply the +business sadly crying, 'Seyte frolich!' The best of their drunken +sport is 'Kurlemurlehuff,' a way of drinking with touching deftly +of the glass the beard, the table, in due turn, intermixed with +whistlings and snappings of the finger so curiously ordered as 'tis a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span> +labour of Hercules, but to the beholder right pleasant and mirthful. +Their topers, by advice of German leeches, sleep with pebbles in +their mouths. For, as of a boiling pot the lid must be set ajar, so +with these fleshly wine-pots, to vent the heat of their inward parts: +spite of which many die suddenly from drink; but 'tis a matter of +religion to slur it, and gloze it, and charge some innocent disease +therewith. Yet 'tis more a custom than very nature, for their +women come among the tipplers, and do but stand a moment, and, +as it were, kiss the wine-cup; and are indeed most temperate in eating +and drinking, and, of all women, modest and virtuous, and true +spouses and friends to their mates; far before our Holland lasses, +that being maids, put the question to the men, and being wived, do +lord it over them. Why, there is a wife in Tergou, not far from +our door. One came to the house and sought her man. Says she, +'You'll not find him: he asked my leave to go abroad this afternoon, +and I did give it him.'"</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "'Tis sooth! 'tis sooth! 'Twas Beck Hulse, Jonah's +wife. This comes of a woman wedding a boy."</p> + +<p>"In the south where wine is, the gentry drink themselves bare; +but not in the north: for with beer a noble shall sooner burst his +body than melt his lands. They are quarrelsome, but 'tis the liquor, +not the mind; for they are none revengeful. And when they have +made a bad bargain drunk, they stand to it sober. They keep their +windows bright: and judge a man by his clothes. Whatever fruit +or grain or herb grows by the roadside, gather and eat. The owner +seeing you shall say, 'Art welcome, honest man.' But an ye pluck +a wayside grape, your very life is in jeopardy. 'Tis eating of that +Heaven gave to be drunken. The French are much fairer spoken, +and not nigh so true hearted. Sweet words cost them nought. +They call it 'payer en blanche.'"</p> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] "Les coquins! ha! ha!"</p> + +<p>"Natheless, courtesy is in their hearts, ay, in their very blood. +They say commonly, 'Give yourself the trouble of sitting down.' +And such straws of speech show how blows the wind. Also at a +public show, if you would leave your seat, yet not lose it, tie but +your napkin round the bench, and no French man or women will sit +here; but rather keep the place for you."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Gramercy! that <i>is</i> manners. France for me!"</p> + +<p>Denys rose and placed his hand gracefully to his breastplate.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414">[414]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Natheless, they say things in sport which are not courteous, but +shocking. 'Le diable t'emporte!' 'Allez au diable!' and so forth. +But I trow they mean not such dreadful wishes: custom belike. +Moderate in drinking, and mix water with their wine, and sing and +dance over their cups, and are then enchanting company. They are +curious not to drink in another man's cup. In war the English +gain the better of them in the field; but the French are their masters +in attack and defence of cities; witness Orleans, where they besieged +their besiegers, and hashed them sore with their double and treble +culverines; and many other sieges in this our century. More than all +nations they flatter their women, and despise them. No She may be +their sovereign ruler. Also they often hang their female malefactors, +instead of drowning them decently, as other nations use. +The furniture in their inns is walnut, in Germany only deal. +French windows are ill. The lower half is of wood, and opens: +the upper half is of glass, but fixed; so that the servant cannot come +at it to clean it. The German windows are all glass, and movable +and shine far and near like diamonds. In France many mean +houses are not glazed at all. Once I saw a Frenchman pass a +church without unbonneting. This I ne'er witnessed in Holland, +Germany, or Italy. At many inns they show the traveller his +sheets to give him assurance they are clean, and warm them at the +fire before him; a laudable custom. They receive him kindly and +like a guest; they mostly cheat him, and whiles cut his throat. They +plead in excuse hard and tyrannous laws. And true it is their +law thrusteth its nose into every platter, and its finger into every +pie. In France worshipful men wear their hats and their furs indoors, +and go abroad lighter clad. In Germany they don hat and +furred cloak to go abroad; but sit bareheaded and light clad round +the stove.</p> + +<p>"The French intermix not the men and women folk in assemblies, +as we Hollanders use. Round their preachers the women sit on +their heels in rows, and the men stand behind them. Their harvests +are rye, and flax, and wine. Three mules shall you see to one horse, +and whole flocks of sheep as black as coal.</p> + +<p>"In Germany the snails be red. I lie not. The French buy +minstrelsy, but breed jests, and make their own mirth. The Germans +foster their set fools, with ear-caps, which move them to laughter +by simulating madness; a calamity that asks pity, not laughter. In<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span> +this particular I deem that lighter nation wiser than the graver +German. What sayest thou? Alas! canst not answer me now.</p> + +<p>"In Germany the petty laws are wondrous wise and just. Those +against criminals, bloody. In France bloodier still; and executed +a trifle more cruelly there. Here the wheel is common, and the +fiery stake; and under this king they drown men by the score in +Paris river, Seine yclept. But the English are as peremptory in +hanging and drowning for a light fault; so travellers report. Finally, +a true-hearted Frenchman, when ye chance on one, is a man +as near perfect as earth affords; and such a man is my Denys, spite +of his foul mouth."</p> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] "My foul mouth! Is that so writ, Master Richart?"</p> + +<p><i>Richart.</i>] "Ay, in sooth; see else."</p> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] (Inspecting the letter gravely.) "I read not the letter +so."</p> + +<p><i>Richart.</i>] "How then?"</p> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] "Humph! ahem! why just the contrary." He added: +"'Tis kittle work perusing of these black scratches men are agreed +to take for words. And I trow 'tis still by guess you clerks do go, +worthy sir. My foul mouth? This the first time e'er I heard on't. +Eh, mesdames?"</p> + +<p>But the females did not seize the opportunity he gave them, and +burst into a loud and general disclaimer. Margaret blushed and +said nothing; the other two bent silently over their work with something +very like a sly smile. Denys inspected their countenances +long and carefully. And the perusal was so satisfactory, that he +turned with a tone of injured, but patient, innocence, and bade +Richart read on.</p> + +<p>"The Italians are a polished and subtle people. They judge a +man, not by his habits, but his speech and gesture. Here Sir +Chough may by no means pass for falcon gentle, as did I in Germany, +pranked in my noble servant's feathers. Wisest of all nations in +their singular temperance of food and drink. Most foolish of all to +search strangers coming into their borders, and stay them from +bringing much money in. They should rather invite it, and, like +other nations, let the traveller from taking of it out. Also here in +Venice the dames turn their black hair yellow by the sun and art, +to be wiser than Him who made them. Ye enter no Italian town +without a bill of health, though now is no plague in Europe. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span> +peevishness is for extortion's sake. The inn-keepers cringe and +fawn, and cheat, and, in country places, murder you. Yet will +they give you clean sheets by paying therefor. Delicate in eating, +and abhor from putting their hand in the plate; sooner they will +apply a crust or what not. They do even tell of a cardinal at +Rome, which armeth his guest's left hand with a little bifurcal dagger +to hold the meat, while his knife cutteth it. But methinks +this, too, is to be wiser than Him, who made the hand so supple +and prehensile."</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "I am of your mind, my lad."</p> + +<p>"They are sore troubled with the itch. And ointment for it, unguento +per la rogna, is cried at every corner of Venice. From this +my window I saw an urchin sell it to three several dames in silken +trains, and to two velvet knights."</p> + +<p><i>Catherine.</i>] "Italy, my lass, I rede ye wash your body i' the tub +o' Sundays; and then ye can put your hand i' the plate o' Thursday +withouten offence."</p> + +<p>"Their bread is lovely white. Their meats they spoil with sprinkling +cheese over them; O perversity! Their salt is black; without +a lie. In commerce these Venetians are masters of the earth and +sea; and govern their territories wisely. Only one flaw I find; the +same I once heard a learned friar cast up against Plato his republic: +to wit, that here women are encouraged to venal frailty, and do pay +a tax to the State, which, not content with silk and spice, and other +rich and honest freights, good store, must trade in sin. Twenty +thousand of these Jezabels there be in Venice and Candia, and about, +pampered and honoured for bringing strangers to the city, and +many live in princely palaces of their own. But herein methinks +the politic signors of Venice forget what King David saith, 'Except +the Lord keep the citie, the watchman waketh but in vain.' Also, +in religion, they hang their cloth according to the wind, siding now +with the Pope, now with the Turk; but ay with the god of traders, +mammon hight. Shall flower so cankered bloom to the world's end? +But since I speak of flowers, this none may deny them, that they are +most cunning in making roses and gilliflowers to blow unseasonably. +In summer they nip certain of the budding roses and water them not. +Then in winter they dig round these discouraged plants, and put +in cloves; and so with great art rear sweet-scented roses, and bring +them to market in January. And did first learn this art of a cow.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span> +Buds she grazed in summer, and they sprouted at yule. Women +have sat in the doctors' chairs at their colleges. But she that sat +in St. Peter's was a German. Italy too, for artful fountains and +figures that move by water and enact life. And next for fountains +is Augsburg, where they harness the foul knave Smoke to good Sir +Spit, and he turneth stout Master Roast. But lest any one place +should vaunt, two towns there be in Europe, which, scorning giddy +fountains, bring water tame in pipes to every burgher's door, and he +filleth his vessels with but turning of a cock. One is London, so +watered this many a year by pipes of a league from Paddington, a +neighbouring city; and the other is the fair town of Lubeck. Also +the fierce English are reported to me wise in that they will not share +their land and flocks with wolves; but have fairly driven those +marauders into their mountains. But neither in France, nor Germany, +nor Italy, is a wayfarer's life safe from the vagabones after +sundown. I can hear of no glazed house in all Venice; but only +oiled linen and paper; and, behind these barbarian eyelets, a wooden +jalosy. Their name for a cowardly assassin is 'a brave man,' and +for an harlot, 'a courteous person,' which is as much as to say that a +woman's worst vice, and a man's worst vice, are virtues. But I pray +God for little Holland that there an assassin may be yclept an assassin, +and an harlot an harlot, till domesday; and then gloze foul faults +with silken names who can!"</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] (With a sigh.) "He should have been a priest, saving your +presence, my poor lass."</p> + +<p>"Go to, peevish writer; art tied smarting by the leg, and may +not see the beauties of Venice. So thy pen kicketh all around like +a wicked mule.</p> + +<p>"<i>January 16.</i>—Sweetheart, I must be brief and tell thee but a +part of that I have seen, for this day my journal ends. To-night it +sails for thee, and I, unhappy, not with it, but to-morrow, in another +ship, to Rome.</p> + +<p>"Dear Margaret, I took a hand-litter, and was carried to St. Mark +his church. Outside it, towards the market-place, is a noble gallery, +and above it four famous horses, cut in brass by the ancient Romans, +and seem all moving, and at the very next step must needs leap +down on the beholder. About the church are six hundred pillars +of marble, porphyry, and ophites. Inside is a treasure greater +than either at St. Denys, or Loretto, or Toledo. Here a jewelled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span> +pitcher given the seigniory by a Persian king, also the ducal cap +blazing with jewels, and on its crown a diamond and a chrysolite, +each as big as an almond; two golden crowns and twelve golden +stomachers studded with jewels, from Constantinople; item, a monstrous +sapphire; item, a great diamond given by a French king; item, +a prodigious carbuncle; item, three unicorns' horns. But what are +these compared with the sacred relics?</p> + +<p>"Dear Margaret, I stood and saw the brazen chest that holds the +body of St. Mark the Evangelist. I saw with these eyes, and +handled, his ring and his gospel written with his own hand, and all +my travels seemed light: for who am I that I should see such things? +Dear Margaret, his sacred body was first brought from Alexandria +by merchants in 810, and then not prized as now; for between 829, +when this church was builded, and 1094, the very place where it +lay was forgotten. Then holy priests fasted and prayed many days +seeking for light, and lo the Evangelist's body brake at midnight +through the marble and stood before them. They fell to the earth: +but in the morning found the crevice the sacred body had burst +through, and peering through it saw him lie. Then they took and +laid him in his chest beneath the altar, and carefully put back the +stone with its miraculous crevice, which crevice I saw, and shall +gape for a monument while the world lasts. After that they showed +me the Virgin's chair, it is of stone; also her picture, painted by +St. Luke, very dark, and the features now scarce visible. This +picture, in time of drought, they carry in procession, and brings the +rain. I wish I had not seen it. Item, two pieces of marble spotted +with John the Baptist's blood; item, a piece of the true cross and +of the pillar to which Christ was tied; item, the rock struck by +Moses, and wet to this hour; also a stone Christ sat on, preaching +at Tyre; but some say it is the one the patriarch Jacob laid his head +on, and I hold with them, by reason our Lord never preached at +Tyre. Going hence they showed me the state nursery for the +children of those aphrodisian dames, their favourites. Here in +the outer wall was a broad niche, and if they bring them so little +as they can squeeze them through it alive, the bairn falls into a +net inside, and the state takes charge of it, but if too big, their +mothers must even take them home again, with whom abiding 'tis +like to be mali corvi mali ovum. Coming out of the church we met +them carrying in a corpse, with the feet and face bare. This I then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span> +first learned is Venetian custom, and sure no other town will ever rob +them of it, nor of this that follows. On a great porphyry slab in +the piazza were three ghastly heads rotting and tainting the air, and +in their hot summers like to take vengeance with breeding of a +plague. These were traitors to the state, and a heavy price—two +thousand ducats—being put on each head, their friends had slain +them and brought all three to the slab, and so sold blood of others +and their own faith. No state buys heads so many nor pays half +so high a price for that sorry merchandise. But what I most admired +was to see over against the duke's palace a fair gallows in +alabaster, reared express to hang him, and no other, for the least +treason to the state; and there it stands in his eye whispering him +memento mori. I pondered, and owned these signors my masters, +who will let no man, not even their sovereign, be above the common +weal. Hard by, on a wall, the workmen were just finishing, by +order of the seigniory, the stone effigy of a tragical and enormous +act enacted last year, yet on the wall looks innocent. Here two +gentlefolks whisper together, and there other twain, their swords +by their side. Four brethren were they, which did on either side +conspire to poison the other two, and so halve their land in lieu of +quartering it; and at a mutual banquet these twain drugged the +wine, and those twain envenomed a marchpane, to such good purpose, +that the same afternoon lay four 'brave men' around one +table grovelling in mortal agony, and cursing of one another and +themselves, and so concluded miserably, and the land, for which +they had lost their immortal souls went into another family. And +why not? it could not go into a worse.</p> + +<p>"But O sovereign wisdom of bywords! how true they put the +finger on each nation's, or particular's, fault.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Quand Italie sera sans poison<br /> +Et France sans trahison<br /> +Et l'Angleterre sans guerre,<br /> +Lors sera le monde sans terre."<br /> +</div> + +<p>Richart explained this to Catherine, then proceeded: "And after +this they took me to the quay, and presently I espied among the +masts one garlanded with amaranth flowers. 'Take me thither,' +said I, and I let my guide know the custom of our Dutch skippers +to hoist flowers to the masthead when they are courting a maid.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span> +Oft had I scoffed at this saying. 'So then his wooing is the earth's +concern.' But now, so far from the Rotter, that bunch at a masthead +made my heart leap with assurance of a countryman. They +carried me, and oh, Margaret! on the stern of that Dutch hoy, was +writ in muckle letters,</p> + +<div class='center'> +RICHART ELIASSOEN, AMSTERDAM.<br /> +</div> + +<p>'Put me down,' I said: 'for our Lady's sake put me down.' I +sat on the bank and looked, scarce believing my eyes, and looked, +and presently fell to crying, till I could see the words no more. Ah +me, how they went to my heart, those bare letters in a foreign land. +Dear Richart! good kind brother Richart! often I have sat on his +knee and rid on his back. Kisses many he has given me, unkind +word from him had I never. And there was his name on his own +ship, and his face and all his grave, but good and gentle ways, came +back to me, and I sobbed vehemently, and cried aloud, 'Why, why is +not brother Richart here, and not his name only?' I spake in +Dutch, for my heart was too full to hold their foreign tongues, +and—"</p> + +<p><i>Eli.</i>] "Well, Richart, go on lad, prithee go on. Is this a place +to halt at?"</p> + +<p><i>Richart.</i>] "Father, with my duty to you, it is easy to say go on, +but think ye I am not flesh and blood? The poor boy's—simple +grief and brotherly love coming—so sudden—on me, they go through +my heart and—I cannot go on: sink me if I can even see the words, +'tis writ so fine."</p> + +<p><i>Denys.</i>] "Courage, good Master Richart! Take your time. +Here are more eyne wet than yours. Ah, little comrade! would God +thou wert here, and I at Venice for thee."</p> + +<p><i>Richart.</i>] "Poor little curly-headed lad, what had he done that +we have driven him so far?"</p> + +<p>"That is what I would fain know," said Catherine, drily, then +fell to weeping and rocking herself, with her apron over her head.</p> + +<p>"Kind dame, good friends," said Margaret, trembling, "let me +tell you how the letter ends. The skipper hearing our Gerard +speak his grief in Dutch, accosted him, and spake comfortably to +him; and after a while our Gerard found breath to say he was +worthy Master Richart's brother. Thereat was the good skipper +all agog to serve him."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421">[421]</a></span></p> + +<p><i>Richart.</i>] "So! so! skipper! Master Richart aforesaid will be +at thy wedding and bring's purse to boot."</p> + +<p><i>Margaret.</i>] "Sir, he told Gerard of his consort that was to sail +that very night for Rotterdam; and dear Gerard had to go home +and finish his letter and bring it to the ship. And the rest, it is +but his poor dear words of love to me, the which, an't please you, +I think shame to hear them read aloud, and ends with the lines I +sent to Mistress Kate, and <i>they</i> would sound so harsh <i>now</i> and ungrateful."</p> + +<p>The pleading tone, as much as the words, prevailed, and Richart +said he would read no more aloud, but run his eye over it for his +own brotherly satisfaction. She blushed and looked uneasy, but +made no reply.</p> + +<p>"Eli," said Catherine, still sobbing a little, "tell me, for our +Lady's sake, how our poor boy is to live at that nasty Rome. He is +gone there to write, but here be his own words to prove writing +avails nought; a had died o' hunger by the way but for paint-brush +and psaltery. Well-a-day!"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Eli, "he has got brush and music still. Besides, so +many men so many minds. Writing, thof it had no sale in other +parts, may be merchandise at Rome."</p> + +<p>"Father," said little Kate, "have I your good leave to put in my +word 'twixt mother and you?"</p> + +<p>"And welcome, little heart."</p> + +<p>"Then, seems to me painting and music, close at hand, be stronger +than writing, but being distant, nought to compare; for see what +glamour written paper hath done here but now. Our Gerard, writing +at Venice, hath verily put his hand into this room at Rotterdam, +and turned all our hearts. Ay, dear dear Gerard, methinks +thy spirit hath rid hither on these thy paper wings; and oh! dear +father, why not do as we should do were he here in the body?"</p> + +<p>"Kate," said Eli, "fear not; Richart and I will give him glamour +for glamour. We will write him a letter, and send it to Rome +by a sure hand with money, and bid him home on the instant."</p> + +<p>Cornelis and Sybrandt exchanged a gloomy look.</p> + +<p>"Ah, good father! And meantime?"</p> + +<p>"Well, meantime?"</p> + +<p>"Dear father, dear mother, what can we do to pleasure the absent, +but be kind to his poor lass; and her own trouble afore her?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis well!" said Eli; "but I am older than thou." Then he +turned gravely to Margaret: "Wilt answer me a question, my +pretty mistress?"</p> + +<p>"If I may, sir," faltered Margaret.</p> + +<p>"What are these marriage lines Gerard speaks of in the letter?"</p> + +<p>"Our marriage lines, sir. His and mine. Know you not we +are betrothed?"</p> + +<p>"Before witnesses?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, sure. My poor father and Martin Wittenhaagen."</p> + +<p>"This is the first I ever heard of it. How came they in his +hands? They should be in yours."</p> + +<p>"Alas, sir, the more is my grief; but I ne'er doubted him: and +he said it was a comfort to him to have them in his bosom."</p> + +<p>"Y'are a very foolish lass."</p> + +<p>"Indeed I was, sir. But trouble teaches the simple."</p> + +<p>"'Tis a good answer. Well, foolish or no, y'are honest. I had +shown ye more respect at first, but I thought y'had been his leman, +and that is the truth."</p> + +<p>"God forbid, sir! Denys, methinks 'tis time for us to go. Give +me my letter, sir!"</p> + +<p>"Bide ye! bide ye! be not so hot, for a word! Natheless, wife, +methinks her red cheek becomes her."</p> + +<p>"Better than it did you to give it her, my man."</p> + +<p>"Softly, wife, softly. I am not counted an unjust man thof I be +somewhat slow."</p> + +<p>Here Richart broke in. "Why, mistress, did ye shed your blood +for our Gerard?"</p> + +<p>"Not I, sir. But maybe I would."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay. But he says you did. Speak sooth, now!"</p> + +<p>"Alas! I know not what ye mean. I rede ye believe not all +that my poor lad says of me. Love makes him blind."</p> + +<p>"Traitress!" cried Denys. "Let not her throw dust in thine eyes, +Master Richart. Old Martin tells me—ye need not make signals +to me, she-comrade; I am as blind as love. Martin tells me she +cut her arm, and let her blood flow, and smeared her heels when +Gerard was hunted by the bloodhounds, to turn the scent from her +lad."</p> + +<p>"Well, and if I did, 'twas my own, and spilled for the good of +my own," said Margaret, defiantly. But, Catherine suddenly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423">[423]</a></span> +clasping her, she began to cry at having found a bosom to cry on, +of one who would have also shed her blood for Gerard in danger.</p> + +<p>Eli rose from his chair. "Wife," said he, solemnly, "you will +set another chair at our table for every meal: also another plate and +knife. They will be for Margaret and Peter. She will come when +she likes, and stay away when she pleases. None may take her +place at my left hand. Such as can welcome her are welcome to +me. Such as cannot, I force them not to bide with me. The world +is wide and free. Within my walls I am master, and my son's +betrothed is welcome."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Catherine bustled out to prepare supper. Eli and Richart sat +down and concocted a letter to bring Gerard home. Richart promised +it should go by sea to Rome that very week. Sybrandt and +Cornelis exchanged a gloomy wink, and stole out. Margaret, seeing +Giles deep in meditation, for the dwarf's intelligence had taken +giant strides, asked him to bring her the letter. "You have heard +but half, good Master Giles," said she. "Shall I read you the +rest?"</p> + +<p>"I shall be much beholden to you," shouted the courtier.</p> + +<p>She gave him her stool: curiosity bowed his pride to sit on it: +and Margaret murmured the first part of the letter into his ear +very low, not to disturb Eli and Richart. And, to do this, she +leaned forward and put her lovely face cheek by jowl with Giles's +hideous one: a strange contrast, and worth a painter's while to try +and represent. And in this attitude Catherine found her, and all +the mother warmed towards her, and she exchanged an eloquent +glance with little Kate.</p> + +<p>The latter smiled, and sewed, with drooping lashes.</p> + +<p>"Get him home on the instant," roared Giles. "I'll make a man +of him. I can do aught with the duke."</p> + +<p>"Hear the boy!" said Catherine, half comically, half proudly.</p> + +<p>"We hear him," said Richart: "a mostly makes himself heard +when a do speak."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p><i>Sybrandt.</i>] "Which will get to him first?"</p> + +<p><i>Cornelis.</i>] (Gloomily.) "Who can tell?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>ABOUT two months before this scene in Eli's home, the natives +of a little maritime place between Naples and Rome +might be seen flocking to the sea beach, with eyes cast seaward +at a ship, that laboured against a stiff gale blowing dead on +the shore.</div> + +<p>At times she seemed likely to weather the danger, and then the +spectators congratulated her aloud: at others the wind and sea +drove her visibly nearer, and the lookers-on were not without a +secret satisfaction they would not have owned even to themselves.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Non quia vexari quemquam est jucunda voluptas<br /> +Sed quibus ipse malis careas quia cernere suave est.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>And the poor ship, though not scientifically built for sailing, was +admirably constructed for going ashore, with her extravagant poop +that caught the wind, and her lines like a cocked hat reversed. To +those on the beach that battered labouring frame of wood seemed +alive, and struggling against death with a panting heart. But +could they have been transferred to her deck they would have seen +she had not one beating heart but many, and not one nature but a +score were coming out clear in that fearful hour.</div> + +<p>The mariners stumbled wildly about the deck, handling the ropes +as each thought fit, and cursing and praying alternately.</p> + +<p>The passengers were huddled together round the mast, some sitting, +some kneeling, some lying prostrate, and grasping the bulwarks +as the vessel rolled and pitched in the mighty waves. One +comely young man, whose ashy cheek, but compressed lips, showed +how hard terror was battling in him with self-respect, stood a little +apart, holding tight by a shroud, and wincing at each sea. It was +the ill-fated Gerard. Meantime prayers and vows rose from the +trembling throng amidships, and, to hear them, it seemed there +were almost as many gods about as men and women. The sailors, +indeed, relied on a single goddess. They varied her titles only, +calling on her as "Queen of Heaven," "Star of the Sea," "Mistress +of the World," "Haven of Safety." But among the landsmen +Polytheism raged. Even those who by some strange chance hit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span> +on the same divinity did not hit on the same edition of that divinity. +An English merchant vowed a heap of gold to our lady of Walsingham. +But a Genoese merchant vowed a silver collar of four pounds +to our lady of Loretto; and a Tuscan noble promised ten pounds +of wax lights to our lady of Ravenna; and with a similar rage for +diversity they pledged themselves, not on the true Cross, but on the +true Cross in this, that, or the other, modern city.</p> + +<p>Suddenly a more powerful gust than usual catching the sail at a +disadvantage, the rotten shrouds gave way, and the sail was torn +out with a loud crack and went down the wind smaller and smaller, +blacker and blacker, and fluttered into the sea, half a mile off, like +a sheet of paper; and, ere the helmsman could put the ship's head +before the wind, a wave caught her on the quarter and drenched +the poor wretches to the bone, and gave them a foretaste of chill +death. Then one vowed aloud to turn Carthusian monk, if St. +Thomas would save him. Another would go a pilgrim to Compostella, +bareheaded, barefooted, with nothing but a coat of mail on +his naked skin, if St. James would save him. Others invoked +Thomas, Dominic, Denys, and, above all, Catherine of Sienna.</p> + +<p>Two petty Neapolitan traders stood shivering.</p> + +<p>One shouted at the top of his voice, "I vow to St. Christopher +at Paris a waxen image of his own weight, if I win safe to land."</p> + +<p>On this the other nudged him, and said, "Brother, brother, take +heed what you vow. Why, if you sell all you have in the world +by public auction, 'twill not buy his weight in wax."</p> + +<p>"Hold your tongue, you fool," said the vociferator. Then in a +whisper,</p> + +<p>"Think ye I am in earnest? Let me but win safe to land, I'll not +give him a rush dip."</p> + +<p>Others lay flat and prayed to the sea. "O most merciful sea! +O sea most generous! O bountiful sea! O beautiful sea! be gentle, +be kind, preserve us in this hour of peril."</p> + +<p>And others wailed and moaned in mere animal terror each time +the ill-fated ship rolled or pitched more terribly than usual; and +she was now a mere plaything in the arms of the tremendous waves.</p> + +<p>A Roman woman of the humbler class sat with her child at her +half-bared breast, silent amid that wailing throng: her cheek ashy +pale; her eye calm; and her lips moved at times in silent prayer, +but she neither wept, nor lamented, nor bargained with the gods.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span> +Whenever the ship seemed really gone under their feet, and bearded +men squeaked, she kissed her child; but that was all. And so she +sat patient, and suckled him in death's jaws; for why should he +lose any joy she could give him; moribundo? Ay, there I do believe, +sat Antiquity among those mediævals. Sixteen hundred years +had not tainted the old Roman blood in her veins; and the instinct +of a race she had perhaps scarce heard of taught her to die with +decent dignity.</p> + +<p>A gigantic friar stood on the poop with feet apart, like the +Colossus of Rhodes, not so much defying, as ignoring, the peril that +surrounded him. He recited verses from the canticles with a loud, +unwavering voice; and invited the passengers to confess to him. +Some did so on their knees, and he heard them, and laid his hands +on them, and absolved them as if he had been in a snug sacristy, +instead of a perishing ship. Gerard got nearer and nearer to him, +by the instinct that takes the wavering to the side of the impregnable. +And, in truth, the courage of heroes facing fleshly odds +might have paled by the side of that gigantic friar, and his still more +gigantic composure. Thus, even here, two were found who maintained +the dignity of our race: a woman, tender, yet heroic, and a +monk steeled by religion against mortal fears.</p> + +<p>And now, the sail being gone, the sailors cut down the useless +mast a foot above the board, and it fell with its remaining hamper +over the ship's side. This seemed to relieve her a little.</p> + +<p>But now the hull, no longer impelled by canvas, could not keep +ahead of the sea. It struck her again and again on the poop, and +the tremendous blows seemed given by a rocky mountain, not by +a liquid.</p> + +<p>The captain left the helm and came amidships pale as death. +"Lighten her," he cried. "Fling all overboard, or we shall founder +ere we strike, and lose the one little chance we have of life." While +the sailors were executing this order, the captain, pale himself, and +surrounded by pale faces that demanded to know their fate, was +talking as unlike an English skipper in like peril as can well be +imagined. "Friends," said he, "last night, when all was fair, too +fair, alas! there came a globe of fire close to the ship. When a pair +of them come it is good luck, and nought can drown her that voyage. +We mariners call these fiery globes Castor and Pollux. But if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427">[427]</a></span> +Castor come without Pollux, or Pollux without Castor, she is +doomed. Therefore, like good Christians, prepare to die."</p> + +<p>These words were received with a loud wail.</p> + +<p>To a trembling inquiry how long they had to prepare, the captain +replied, "She may, or may not, last half an hour; over that, +impossible; she leaks like a sieve; bustle, men, lighten her."</p> + +<p>The poor passengers seized on everything that was on deck and +flung it overboard. Presently they laid hold of a heavy sack; an +old man was lying on it, sea sick. They lugged it from under him. +It rattled. Two of them drew it to the side; up started the owner, +and, with an unearthly shriek, pounced on it. "Holy Moses! what +would you do? 'Tis my all; 'tis the whole fruits of my journey; +silver candlesticks, silver plates, brooches, hanaps—"</p> + +<p>"Let go, thou hoary villain," cried the others, "shall all our lives +be lost for thy ill-gotten gear?" "Fling him in with it," cried +one; "'tis this Ebrew we Christian men are drowned for." Numbers +soon wrenched it from him and heaved it over the side. It +splashed into the waves. Then its owner uttered one cry of anguish, +and stood glaring, his white hair streaming in the wind, and +was going to leap after it, and would, had it floated. But it sank, +and was gone for ever; and he staggered to and fro, tearing his +hair, and cursed them and the ship, and the sea, and all the powers +of heaven and hell alike.</p> + +<p>And now the captain cried out: "See, there is a church in sight. +Steer for that church, mate, and you, friends, pray to the saint, +who'er he be."</p> + +<p>So they steered for the church and prayed to the unknown god it +was named after. A tremendous sea pooped them, broke the rudder, +and jammed it immovable, and flooded the deck.</p> + +<p>Then wild with superstitious terror some of them came round +Gerard. "Here is the cause of all," they cried. "He has never +invoked a single saint. He is a heathen; here is a pagan aboard."</p> + +<p>"Alas, good friends, say not so," said Gerard, his teeth chattering +with cold and fear. "Rather call these heathens, that lie a praying +to the sea. Friends, I do honour the saints,—but I dare not pray +to them now,—there is no time—(oh!) what avail me Dominic, +and Thomas and Catherine? Nearer God's throne than these St. +Peter sitteth; and, if I pray to him, it's odd, but I shall be drowned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span> +ere he has time to plead my cause with God. Oh! oh! oh! I must +need go straight to him that made the sea, and the saints, and me. +Our father, which art in heaven, save these poor souls and me that +cry for the bare life! Oh sweet Jesus, pitiful Jesus, that didst +walk Genezaret when Peter sank, and wept for Lazarus dead when +the apostles' eyes were dry, oh save poor Gerard—for dear Margaret's +sake!"</p> + +<p>At this moment the sailors were seen preparing to desert the +sinking ship in the little boat, which even at that epoch every ship +carried; then there was a rush of egotists; and thirty souls crowded +into it. Remained behind three who were bewildered, and two +who were paralyzed, with terror. The paralyzed sat like heaps +of wet rags, the bewildered ones ran to and fro, and saw the thirty +egotists put off, but made no attempt to join them: only kept running +to and fro, and wringing their hands. Besides these there was +one on his knees praying over the wooden statue of the Virgin +Mary, as large as life, which the sailors had reverently detached +from the mast. It washed about the deck, as the water came slushing +in from the sea, and pouring out at the scuppers; and this +poor soul kept following it on his knees, with his hands clasped +at it, and the water playing with it, And there was the Jew, +palsied, but not by fear. He was no longer capable of so petty +a passion. He sat cross-legged, bemoaning his bag, and, whenever +the spray lashed him, shook his fist at where it came from, and +cursed the Nazarenes, and their gods, and their devils, and their +ships, and their waters, to all eternity.</p> + +<p>And the gigantic Dominican, having shriven the whole ship, +stood calmly communing with his own spirit. And the Roman +woman sat pale and patient, only drawing her child closer to her +bosom as death came nearer.</p> + +<p>Gerard saw this and it awakened his manhood. "See! see!" he +said, "they have ta'en the boat and left the poor woman and her +child to perish."</p> + +<p>His heart soon set his wit working.</p> + +<p>"Wife, I'll save thee yet, please God." And he ran to find a +cask or a plank to float her. There was none.</p> + +<p>Then his eye fell on the wooden image of the Virgin. He caught +it up in his arms, and, heedless of a wail that issued from its worshipper, +like a child robbed of its toy, ran aft with it. "Come,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429">[429]</a></span> +wife," he cried. "I'll lash thee and the child to this. 'Tis sore +worm eaten; but 'twill serve."</p> + +<p>She turned her great dark eye on him and said a single word:</p> + +<p>"Thyself?"</p> + +<p>But with wonderful magnanimity and tenderness.</p> + +<p>"I am a man, and have no child to take care of."</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said she, and his words seemed to animate her face with +a desire to live. He lashed the image to her side. Then with the +hope of life she lost something of her heroic calm; not much: her +body trembled a little, but not her eye.</p> + +<p>The ship was now so low in the water that by using an oar as +a lever he could slide her into the waves.</p> + +<p>"Come," said he, "while yet there is time."</p> + +<p>She turned her great Roman eyes, wet now, upon him. "Poor +youth!—God forgive me!—My child!" And he launched her on +the surge, and with his oar kept her from being battered against the +ship.</p> + +<p>A heavy hand fell on him; a deep sonorous voice sounded in his +ear: "'Tis well. Now come with me."</p> + +<p>It was the gigantic friar.</p> + +<p>Gerard turned, and the friar took two strides, and laid hold of +the broken mast. Gerard did the same, obeying him instinctively. +Between them, after a prodigious effort, they hoisted up the remainder +of the mast, and carried it off. "Fling it in," said the +friar, "and follow it." They flung it in; but one of the bewildered +passengers had run after them, and jumped first and got on one +end. Gerard seized the other, the friar the middle.</p> + +<p>It was a terrible situation. The mast rose and plunged with +each wave like a kicking horse, and the spray flogged their faces +mercilessly, and blinded them; to help knock them off.</p> + +<p>Presently was heard a long grating noise ahead. The ship had +struck: and soon after, she being stationary now, they were hurled +against her with tremendous force. Their companion's head struck +against the upper part of the broken rudder with a horrible crack, +and was smashed like a cocoa-nut by a sledge-hammer. He sunk directly, +leaving no trace but a red stain on the water, and a white +clot on the jagged rudder, and a death cry ringing in their ears, as +they drifted clear under the lee of the black hull. The friar uttered +a short Latin prayer for the safety of his soul, and took his place<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span> +composedly. They rolled along [Greek: hypek thauatoio]; one moment they saw +nothing, and seemed down in a mere basin of watery hills: the next +they caught glimpses of the shore speckled bright with people, who +kept throwing up their arms with wild Italian gestures to encourage +them, and the black boat driving bottom upwards, and between it +and them the woman rising and falling like themselves. She had +come across a paddle, and was holding her child tight with her +left arm, and paddling gallantly with her right.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 414px;"> +<img src="images/illus459.jpg" width="414" height="600" alt="THE BLACK BOAT DRIVING BOTTOM UPWARD" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE BLACK BOAT DRIVING BOTTOM UPWARD</span> +</div> + +<p>When they had tumbled along thus a long time, suddenly the +friar said quietly: "I touched the ground."</p> + +<p>"Impossible, father," said Gerard, "we are more than a hundred +yards from shore. Prithee, prithee, leave not our faithful +mast."</p> + +<p>"My son," said the friar, "you speak prudently. But know +that I have business of holy Church on hand, and may not waste +time floating when I can walk, in her service. There, I felt it +with my toes again; see the benefit of wearing sandals, and not +shoon. Again: and sandy. Thy stature is less than mine: keep +to the mast! I walk." He left the mast accordingly, and extending +his powerful arms, rushed through the water. Gerard +soon followed him. At each overpowering wave the monk stood +like a tower, and, closing his mouth, threw his head back to encounter +it, and was entirely lost under it awhile: then emerged and +ploughed lustily on. At last they came close to the shore; but the +suction outward baffled all their attempts to land. Then the natives +sent stout fishermen into the sea, holding by long spears in a triple +chain: and so dragged them ashore.</p> + +<p>The friar shook himself, bestowed a short paternal benediction +on the natives, and went on to Rome, with eyes bent on earth, according +to his rule, and without pausing. He did not even cast a glance +back upon that sea, which had so nearly engulfed him, but had +no power to harm him, without his master's leave.</p> + +<p>While he stalks on alone to Rome without looking back, I who am +not in the service of holy Church, stop a moment to say that the +reader and I were within six inches of this giant once before: but +we escaped him that time. Now, I fear, we are in for him. +Gerard grasped every hand upon the beach. They brought him +to an enormous fire and with a delicacy he would hardly have encountered +in the north, left him to dry himself alone: on this he took<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span> +out of his bosom a parchment, and a paper, and dried them carefully. +When this was done to his mind, and not till then, he consented +to put on a fisherman's dress and leave his own by the fire, +and went down to the beach. What he saw may be briefly related.</p> + +<p>The captain stuck by the ship, not so much from gallantry, as +from a conviction that it was idle to resist Castor or Pollux, whichever +it was that had come for him in a ball of fire.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless the sea broke up the ship and swept the poop, captain +and all, clear of the rest, and took him safe ashore. Gerard +had a principal hand in pulling him out of the water. The disconsolate +Hebrew landed on another fragment, and on touching +earth offered a reward for his bag, which excited little sympathy, +but some amusement. Two more were saved on pieces of the wreck. +The thirty egotists came ashore, but one at a time, and dead; one +breathed still. Him the natives, with excellent intentions, took +to a hot fire. So then he too retired from this shifting scene.</p> + +<p>As Gerard stood by the sea, watching, with horror and curiosity +mixed, his late companions washed ashore, a hand was laid lightly +on his shoulder. He turned. It was the Roman matron, burning +with womanly gratitude. She took his hand gently, and raising it +slowly to her lips, kissed it; but so nobly, she seemed to be conferring +an honour on one deserving hand. Then, with face all +beaming and moist eyes, she held her child up and made him kiss his +preserver.</p> + +<p>Gerard kissed the child: more than once. He was fond of children. +But he said nothing. He was much moved; for she did not +speak at all, except with her eyes, and glowing cheeks, and noble +antique gesture, so large and stately. Perhaps she was right. +Gratitude is not a thing of words. It was an ancient Roman matron +thanking a modern from her heart of hearts.</p> + +<p>Next day, towards afternoon, Gerard—twice as old as last year, +thrice as learned in human ways, a boy no more, but a man who had +shed blood in self-defense, and grazed the grave by land and sea—reached +the eternal city; <i>post tot naufragia tutus</i>.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432">[432]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LVIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERARD took a modest lodging on the west bank of the +Tiber, and every day went forth in search of work, taking +a specimen round to every shop he could hear of that executed +such commissions.</div> + +<p>They received him coldly. "We make our letter somewhat +thinner than this," said one. "How dark your ink is," said another. +But the main cry was, "What avails this? Scant is the Latin writ +here now. Can ye not write Greek?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, but not nigh so well as Latin."</p> + +<p>"Then you shall never make your bread at Rome."</p> + +<p>Gerard borrowed a beautiful Greek manuscript at a high price, +and went home with a sad hole in his purse, but none in his courage.</p> + +<p>In a fortnight he had made vast progress with the Greek character; +so then, to lose no time, he used to work at it till noon, and +hunt customers the rest of the day.</p> + +<p>When he carried round a better Greek specimen than any they +possessed, the traders informed him that Greek and Latin were +alike unsalable; the city was thronged with works from all Europe. +He should have come last year.</p> + +<p>Gerard bought a psaltery.</p> + +<p>His landlady, pleased with his looks and manners, used often +to speak a kind word in passing. One day she made him dine +with her, and somewhat to his surprise asked him what had dashed +his spirits. He told her. She gave him her reading of the matter. +"Those sly traders," she would be bound, "had writers in their pay +for whose work they received a noble price and paid a sorry one. +So no wonder they blow cold on you. Methinks you write too +well. How know I that? say you. Marry—marry, because you +lock not your door, like the churl Pietro, and women will be curious. +Ay, ay, you write too well for <i>them</i>."</p> + +<p>Gerard asked an explanation.</p> + +<p>"Why," said she, "your good work might put out the eyes of that +they are selling."</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed. "Alas! dame, you read folk on the ill side, and +you so kind and frank yourself."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My dear little heart, these Romans are a subtle race. Me? +I am a Siennese, thanks to the Virgin."</p> + +<p>"My mistake was leaving Augsburg," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Augsburg?" said she, haughtily; "is that a place to even to +Rome? I never heard of it for my part."</p> + +<p>She then assured him that he should make his fortune in spite +of the booksellers. "Seeing thee a stranger, they lie to thee without +sense or discretion. Why all the world knows that our great folk +are bitten with the writing spider this many years, and pour out +their money like water, and turn good land and houses into writ +sheepskins to keep in a chest or a cupboard. God help them, and +send them safe through this fury, as he hath through a heap of +others; and in sooth hath been somewhat less cutting and stabbing +among rival factions, and vindictive eating of their opposites' +livers, minced and fried, since Scribbling came in. Why <i>I</i> can +tell you two. There is his eminence Cardinal Bassarion, and his +holiness the Pope himself. There be a pair could keep a score such as +thee a writing night and day. But I'll speak to Teresa; she hears +the gossip of the court."</p> + +<p>The next day she told him she had seen Teresa, and had heard of +five more signors who were bitten with the writing spider. Gerard +took down their names, and bought parchment, and busied +himself for some days in preparing specimens. He left one, with +his name and address, at each of these signors' doors, and hopefully +awaited the result.</p> + +<p>There was none.</p> + +<p>Day after day passed and left him heartsick.</p> + +<p>And strange to say this was just the time when Margaret was +fighting so hard against odds to feed her male dependents at Rotterdam, +and arrested for curing without a licence instead of killing +with one.</p> + +<p>Gerard saw ruin staring him in the face.</p> + +<p>He spent the afternoons picking up canzonets and mastering them. +He laid in playing cards to colour, and struck off a meal per day.</p> + +<p>This last stroke of genius got him into fresh trouble.</p> + +<p>In these "camere locande" the landlady dressed all the meals, +though the lodgers bought the provisions. So Gerard's hostess +speedily detected him, and asked him if he was not ashamed of +himself: by which brusque opening, having made him blush and look<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434">[434]</a></span> +scared, she pacified herself all in a moment, and appealed to his +good sense whether Adversity was a thing to be overcome on an +empty stomach.</p> + +<p>"Patienza, my lad! times will mend, meantime I will feed you +for the love of heaven" (Italian for "gratis").</p> + +<p>"Nay, hostess," said Gerard, "my purse is not yet quite void, and +it would add to my trouble an if true folk should lose their due +by me."</p> + +<p>"Why you are as mad as your neighbour Pietro, with his one +bad picture."</p> + +<p>"Why, how know you 'tis a bad picture?"</p> + +<p>"Because nobody will buy it. There is one that hath no gift. +He will have to don casque and glaive, and carry his panel for a +shield."</p> + +<p>Gerard pricked up his ears at this: so she told him more. Pietro +had come from Florence with money in his purse, and an unfinished +picture; had taken her one unfurnished room, opposite Gerard's, +and furnished it neatly. When his picture was finished, he received +visitors and had offers for it: these, though in her opinion +liberal ones, he had refused so disdainfully as to make enemies +of his customers. Since then he had often taken it out with him +to try and sell, but had always brought it back; and, the last month, +she had seen one movable after another go out of his room, and +now he wore but one suit, and lay at night on a great chest. She +had found this out only by peeping through the keyhole, for he +locked the door most vigilantly whenever he went out. "Is he +afraid we shall steal his chest, or his picture that no soul in all +Rome is weak enough to buy?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, sweet hostess, see you not 'tis his poverty he would screen +from view?"</p> + +<p>"And the more fool he! Are all our hearts as ill as his? A +might give us a trial first any way."</p> + +<p>"How you speak of him. Why his case is mine; and your +countryman to boot."</p> + +<p>"Oh, we Siennese love strangers. His case yours? nay 'tis just +the contrary. You are the comeliest youth ever lodged in this house; +hair like gold; he is a dark sour-visaged loon. Besides you know +how to take a woman on her better side; but not he. Natheless +I wish he would not starve to death in my house, to get me a bad<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435">[435]</a></span> +name. Any way, one starveling is enough in any house. You are +far from home, and it is for me, which am the mistress here, to +number your meals—for me and the Dutch wife, your mother, that +is far away: we two women shall settle that matter. Mind thou +thine own business, being a man, and leave cooking and the like to +us, that are in the world for little else that I see but to roast fowls, +and suckle men at starting, and sweep their grown-up cobwebs."</p> + +<p>"Dear kind dame, in sooth you do often put me in mind of my +mother that is far away."</p> + +<p>"All the better; I'll put you more in mind of her before I have +done with you." And the honest soul beamed with pleasure.</p> + +<p>Gerard not being an egotist, nor blinded by female partialities, +saw his own grief in poor proud Pietro; and the more he thought +of it, the more he resolved to share his humble means with that +unlucky artist; Pietro's sympathy would repay him. He tried +to waylay him: but without success.</p> + +<p>One day he heard a groaning in the room. He knocked at the +door, but received no answer. He knocked again. A surly voice +bade him enter.</p> + +<p>He obeyed somewhat timidly, and entered a garret furnished +with a chair, a picture, face to wall, an iron basin, an easel, and a +long chest, on which was coiled a haggard young man with a wonderfully +bright eye. Anything more like a coiled cobra ripe for +striking the first comer was never seen.</p> + +<p>"Good Signor Pietro," said Gerard, "forgive me that, weary of +my own solitude, I intrude on yours; but I am your nighest neighbour +in this house, and methinks your brother in fortune. I am an +artist too."</p> + +<p>"You are a painter? Welcome, signor. Sit down on my bed."</p> + +<p>And Pietro jumped off and waved him into the vacant throne +with a magnificent demonstration of courtesy.</p> + +<p>Gerard bowed, and smiled; but hesitated a little. "I may not +call myself a painter. I am a writer, a caligraph. I copy Greek +and Latin manuscripts, when I can get them to copy."</p> + +<p>"And you call that an artist?"</p> + +<p>"Without offense to your superior merit, Signor Pietro."</p> + +<p>"No offence, stranger, none. Only, me seemeth an artist is one +who thinks and paints his thought. Now a caligraph but draws +in black and white the thoughts of another."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Tis well distinguished, signor. But then, a writer can write +the thoughts of the great ancients, and matters of pure reason, +such as no man may paint: ay, and the thoughts of God, which +angels could not paint. But let that pass. I am a painter as well; +but a sorry one."</p> + +<p>"The better thy luck. They will buy thy work in Rome."</p> + +<p>"But seeking to commend myself to one of thy eminence, I +thought it well rather to call myself a capable writer than a scurvy +painter."</p> + +<p>At this moment a step was heard on the stair.</p> + +<p>"Ah! 'tis the good dame," cried Gerard. "What ho! hostess, +I am here in conversation with Signor Pietro. I dare say he will +let me have my humble dinner here."</p> + +<p>The Italian bowed gravely.</p> + +<p>The landlady brought in Gerard's dinner smoking and savory. +She put the dish down on the bed with a face divested of all expression, +and went.</p> + +<p>Gerard fell to. But ere he had eaten many mouthfuls he +stopped, and said: "I am an ill-mannered churl, Signor Pietro. +I ne'er eat to my mind, when I eat alone. For our Lady's sake +put a spoon into this ragout with me; 'tis not unsavoury, I promise +you."</p> + +<p>Pietro fixed his glittering eye on him.</p> + +<p>"What, good youth, thou a stranger, and offerest me thy dinner?"</p> + +<p>"Why, see, there is more than one can eat."</p> + +<p>"Well, I accept," said Pietro: and took the dish with some appearance +of calmness, and flung the contents out of the window.</p> + +<p>Then he turned trembling with mortification and ire, and said: +"Let that teach thee to offer alms to an artist thou knowest not, +master writer."</p> + +<p>Gerard's face flushed with anger, and it cost him a bitter struggle +not to box this high-souled creature's ears. And then to go and +destroy good food! His mother's milk curdled in his veins with +horror at such impiety. Finally, pity at Pietro's petulance and +egotism, and a touch of respect for poverty-struck pride, prevailed.</p> + +<p>However he said coldly, "Likely what thou hast done might pass +in a novel of thy countryman, Signor Boccaccio; but 'twas not +honest."</p> + +<p>"Make that good!" said the painter sullenly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I offered thee half my dinner; no more. But thou hast +ta'en it all. Hadst a right to throw away thy share, but not mine. +Pride is well, but justice is better."</p> + +<p>Pietro stared, then reflected.</p> + +<p>"'Tis well. I took thee for a fool, so transparent was thine +artifice. Forgive me! And prithee leave me! Thou seest how 'tis +with me. The world hath soured me. I hate mankind. I was +not always so. Once more excuse that my discourtesy, and fare +thee well!"</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed and made for the door.</p> + +<p>But suddenly a thought struck him. "Signor Pietro," said he, +"we Dutchmen are hard bargainers. We are the lads 'een eij +scheeren,' that is 'to shave an egg.' Therefore, I, for my lost +dinner, do claim to feast mine eyes on your picture, whose face +is toward the wall."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," said the painter hastily, "ask me not that; I have +already misconducted myself enough towards thee. I would not +shed thy blood."</p> + +<p>"Saints forbid! My blood?"</p> + +<p>"Stranger," said Pietro sullenly, "irritated by repeated insults +to my picture, which is my child, my heart, I did in a moment of +rage make a solemn vow to drive my dagger into the next one that +should flout it, and the labour and love that I have given to it."</p> + +<p>"What, are all to be slain that will not praise this picture?" +and he looked at its back with curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay: if you would but look at it, and hold your parrot +tongues. But you will be talking. So I have turned it to the wall +for ever. Would I were dead, and buried in it for my coffin!"</p> + +<p>Gerard reflected.</p> + +<p>"I accept the conditions. Show me the picture! I can but +hold my peace."</p> + +<p>Pietro went and turned its face, and put it in the best light the +room afforded, and coiled himself again on his chest, with his eye, +and stiletto, glittering.</p> + +<p>The picture represented the Virgin and Christ, flying through +the air in a sort of cloud of shadowy cherubic faces; underneath +was a landscape, forty or fifty miles in extent, and a purple sky +above.</p> + +<p>Gerard stood and looked at it in silence. Then he stepped close,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438">[438]</a></span> +and looked. Then he retired as far off as he could, and looked; +but said not a word.</p> + +<p>When he had been at this game half an hour, Pietro cried out +querulously and somewhat inconsistently: "Well, have you not +a word to say about it?"</p> + +<p>Gerard started. "I cry your mercy; I forgot there were three +of us here. Ay, I have much to say." And he drew his sword.</p> + +<p>"Alas! alas!" cried Pietro, jumping in terror from his lair. +"What wouldst thou?"</p> + +<p>"Marry, defend myself against thy bodkin, signor; and at due +odds, being, as aforesaid, a Dutchman. Therefore, hold aloof, +while I deliver judgment, or I will pin thee to the wall like a cockchafer."</p> + +<p>"Oh! is that all," said Pietro greatly relieved. "I feared you +were going to stab my poor picture with your sword, stabbed already +by so many foul tongues."</p> + +<p>Gerard "pursued criticism under difficulties." Put himself in +a position of defence, with his sword's point covering Pietro, and +one eye glancing aside at the picture. "First, signor, I would +have you know that, in the mixing of certain colours, and in the +preparation of your oil, you Italians are far behind us Flemings. +But let that flea stick. For as small as I am, I can show you certain +secrets of the Van Eycks, that you will put to marvellous profit +in your next picture. Meantime I see in this one the great qualities +of your nation. Verily, ye are <i>solis filii</i>. If we have colour, you +have imagination. Mother of heaven! an he hath not flung his immortal +soul upon the panel. One thing I go by is this; it makes +other pictures I once admired seem drossy, earth-born things. The +drapery here is somewhat short and stiff. Why not let it float +freely, the figures being in air and motion?"</p> + +<p>"I will! I will!" cried Pietro eagerly. "I will do anything +for those who will but see what I <i>have</i> done."</p> + +<p>"Humph! This landscape it enlightens me. Henceforth I +scorn those little huddled landscapes that did erst content me. Here +is Nature's very face: a spacious plain, each distance marked, and +every tree, house, figure, field and river smaller and less plain, by +exquisite gradation, till vision itself melts into distance. O beautiful! +And the cunning rogue hath hung his celestial figure in air +out of the way of his little world below. Here, floating saints<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span> +beneath heaven's purple canopy. There, far down, earth and her +busy hives. And they let you take this painted poetry, this blooming +hymn, through the streets of Rome and bring it home unsold. +But I tell thee in Ghent or Bruges, or even in Rotterdam, they +would tear it out of thy hands. But 'tis a common saying that a +stranger's eye sees clearest. Courage, Pietro Vanucci! I reverence +thee, and, though myself a scurvy painter, do forgive thee +for being a great one. Forgive thee? I thank God for thee and +such rare men as thou art; and bow the knee to thee in just homage. +Thy picture is immortal, and thou, that hast but a chest +to sit on, art a king in thy most royal art. Viva, il maëstro! +Viva!"</p> + +<p>At this unexpected burst the painter, with all the abandon of +his nation, flung himself on Gerard's neck. "They said it was +a maniac's dream," he sobbed.</p> + +<p>"Maniacs themselves! no, idiots!" shouted Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Generous stranger! I will hate men no more since the world +hath such as thee. I was a viper to fling thy poor dinner away; +a wretch, a monster."</p> + +<p>"Well, monster, wilt be gentle now, and sup with me?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! that I will. Whither goest thou?"</p> + +<p>"To order supper on the instant. We will have the picture for +third man."</p> + +<p>"I will invite it whiles thou art gone. My poor picture, child +of my heart."</p> + +<p>"Ah! master; 'twill look on many a supper after the worms have +eaten you and me."</p> + +<p>"I hope so," said Pietro.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>ABOUT a week after this the two friends sat working together, +but not in the same spirit. Pietro dashed fitfully at his, +and did wonders in a few minutes, and then did nothing, +except abuse it; then presently resumed it in a fury, to lay it down +with a groan. Through all which kept calmly working, calmly +smiling, the canny Dutchman.</div> + +<p>To be plain, Gerard, who never had a friend he did not master,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span> +had put his Onagra in harness. The friends were painting playing +cards to boil the pot.</p> + +<p>When done, the indignant master took up his picture to make +his daily tour in search of a customer.</p> + +<p>Gerard begged him to take the cards as well, and try and sell +them. He looked all the rattlesnake, but eventually embraced +Gerard in the Italian fashion, and took them, after first drying the +last finished ones in the sun, which was now powerful in that happy +clime.</p> + +<p>Gerard, left alone, executed a Greek letter or two, and then +mended a little rent in his hose. His landlady found him thus employed, +and inquired ironically whether there were no women in +the house.</p> + +<p>"When you have done that," said she, "come and talk to Teresa, +my friend I spoke to thee of, that hath a husband not good for much, +which brags his acquaintance with the great."</p> + +<p>Gerard went down, and who should Teresa be but the Roman +matron.</p> + +<p>"Ah, madama," said he, "is it you? The good dame told me +not that. And the little fair-haired boy, is he well? is he none the +worse for his voyage in that strange boat?"</p> + +<p>"He is well," said the matron.</p> + +<p>"Why, what are you two talking about?" said the landlady, staring +at them both in turn; "and why tremble you so, Teresa mia?"</p> + +<p>"He saved my child's life," said Teresa, making an effort to compose +herself.</p> + +<p>"What, my lodger? and he never told me a word of that. Art +not ashamed to look me in the face?"</p> + +<p>"Alas! speak not harshly to him," said the matron. She then +turned to her friend and poured out a glowing description of Gerard's +conduct, during which Gerard stood blushing like a girl, and +scarce recognizing his own performance, gratitude painted it so +fair.</p> + +<p>"And to think thou shouldst ask me to serve thy lodger, of +whom I knew nought but that he had thy good word, O Fiammina: +and that was enough for me. Dear youth, in serving thee I serve +myself."</p> + +<p>Then ensued an eager description, by the two women, of what +had been done, and what should be done, to penetrate the thick wall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span> +of fees, commissions, and chicanery, which stood between the patrons +of art and an unknown artist in the Eternal city.</p> + +<p>Teresa smiled sadly at Gerard's simplicity in leaving specimens +of his skill at the doors of the great.</p> + +<p>"What!" said she, "without promising the servants a share—without +even feeing them, to let the signors see thy merchandize! +As well have flung it into Tiber."</p> + +<p>"Well-a-day!" sighed Gerard. "Then how is an artist to find +a patron? for artists are poor, not rich."</p> + +<p>"By going to some city nobler and not so greedy as this," said +Teresa. "La corte Romana non vuol' pecora senza lana."</p> + +<p>She fell into thought, and said she would come again to-morrow.</p> + +<p>The landlady felicitated Gerard. "Teresa has got something in +her head," said she.</p> + +<p>Teresa was scarce gone when Pietro returned with his picture, +looking black as thunder. Gerard exchanged a glance with the +landlady, and followed him up stairs to console him.</p> + +<p>"What, have they let thee bring home thy masterpiece?"</p> + +<p>"As heretofore."</p> + +<p>"More fools they, then."</p> + +<p>"That is not the worst."</p> + +<p>"Why, what is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"They have bought the cards," yelled Pietro, and hammered the +air furiously right and left.</p> + +<p>"All the better," said Gerard cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"They flew at me for them. They were enraptured with them. +They tried to conceal their longing for them, but could not. I +saw, I feigned, I pillaged; curse the boobies."</p> + +<p>And he flung down a dozen small silver coins on the floor and +jumped on them, and danced on them with basilisk eyes, and then +kicked them assiduously, and sent them spinning and flying, and +running all abroad. Down went Gerard on his knees and followed +the maltreated innocents directly, and transferred them tenderly +to his purse.</p> + +<p>"Shouldst rather smile at their ignorance, and put it to profit," +said he.</p> + +<p>"And so I will," said Pietro, with concentrated indignation. +"The brutes! We will paint a pack a day; we will set the whole +city gambling and ruining itself, while we live like princes on its<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span> +vices and stupidity. There was one of the queens, though, I had +fain have kept back. 'Twas you limned her, brother. She had +lovely red-brown hair and sapphire eyes, and above all, soul."</p> + +<p>"Pietro," said Gerard, softly, "I painted that one from my heart."</p> + +<p>The quick-witted Italian nodded, and his eyes twinkled.</p> + +<p>"You love her so well, yet leave her."</p> + +<p>"Pietro, it is because I love her so dear that I have wandered +all this dreary road."</p> + +<p>This interesting colloquy was interrupted by the landlady crying +from below, "Come down, you are wanted." He went down, +and there was Teresa again.</p> + +<p>"Come with me, Ser Gerard."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERARD walked silently beside Teresa, wondering in his +own mind, after the manner of artists, what she was going +to do with him; instead of asking her. So at last +she told him of her own accord. A friend had informed her of a +working goldsmith's wife who wanted a writer. "Her shop is hard +by; you will not have far to go."</div> + +<p>Accordingly they soon arrived at the goldsmith's wife.</p> + +<p>"Madama," said Teresa, "Leonora tells me you want a writer: +I have brought you a beautiful one, he saved my child at sea. +Prithee look on him with favour."</p> + +<p>The goldsmith's wife complied in one sense. She fixed her eyes +on Gerard's comely face, and could hardly take them off again. +But her reply was unsatisfactory. "Nay, I have no use for a +writer. Ah! I mind now, it is my gossip, Clælia, the sausage-maker, +wants one; she told me, and I told Leonora."</p> + +<p>Teresa made a courteous speech and withdrew.</p> + +<p>Clælia lived at some distance, and when they reached her house +she was out. Teresa said calmly, "I will await her return," and +sat so still, and dignified, and statuesque, that Gerard was beginning +furtively to draw her, when Clælia returned.</p> + +<p>"Madama, I hear from the goldsmith's wife, the excellent +Olympia, that you need a writer" (here she took Gerard by the +hand and led him forward); "I have brought you a beautiful one,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443">[443]</a></span> +he saved my child from the cruel waves. For our Lady's sake look +with favour on him."</p> + +<p>"My good dame, my fair Ser," said Clælia, "I have no use for +a writer; but now you remind me, it was my friend Appia Claudia +asked me for one but the other day. She is a tailor, lives in the +Via Lepida."</p> + +<p>Teresa retired calmly.</p> + +<p>"Madama," said Gerard, "this is likely to be a tedious business +for you."</p> + +<p>Teresa opened her eyes.</p> + +<p>"What was ever done without a little patience?" She added +mildly, "We will knock at every door at Rome but you shall have +justice."</p> + +<p>"But madama, I think we are dogged. I noticed a man that follows +us, sometimes afar, sometimes close."</p> + +<p>"I have seen it," said Teresa, coldly: but her cheek coloured +faintly. "It is my poor Lodovico."</p> + +<p>She stopped and turned, and beckoned with her finger.</p> + +<p>A figure approached them somewhat unwillingly.</p> + +<p>When he came up, she gazed him full in the face, and he looked +sheepish.</p> + +<p>"Lodovico mio," said she, "know this young Ser, of whom I have +so often spoken to thee. Know him and love him, for he it was who +saved thy wife and child."</p> + +<p>At these last words Lodovico, who had been bowing and grinning +artificially, suddenly changed to an expression of heartfelt +gratitude, and embraced Gerard warmly.</p> + +<p>Yet somehow there was something in the man's original manner, +and his having followed his wife by stealth, that made Gerard uncomfortable +under this caress. However he said, "We shall have +your company, Ser Lodovico?"</p> + +<p>"No, signor," replied Lodovico, "I go not on that side +Tiber."</p> + +<p>"Addio, then," said Teresa, significantly.</p> + +<p>"When shall you return home, Teresa mia?"</p> + +<p>"When I have done mine errand, Lodovico."</p> + +<p>They pursued their way in silence. Teresa now wore a sad and +almost gloomy air.</p> + +<p>To be brief, Appia Claudia was merciful, and did not send them<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span> +over Tiber again, but only a hundred yards down the street to +Lucretia, who kept the glove shop; she it was wanted a writer: but +what for Appia Claudia could not conceive. Lucretia was a merry +little dame, who received them heartily enough, and told them she +wanted no writer, kept all her accounts in her head. "It was +for my confessor, Father Colonna; he is mad after them."</p> + +<p>"I have heard of his excellency," said Teresa.</p> + +<p>"Who has not?"</p> + +<p>"But, good dame, he is a friar; he has made vow of poverty. +I cannot let the young man write and not be paid. He saved my +child at sea."</p> + +<p>"Did he now?" And Lucretia cast an approving look on Gerard. +"Well, make your mind easy; a Colonna never wants for money. +The good father has only to say the word, and the princes of his +race will pour a thousand crowns into his lap. And such a confessor, +dame! the best in Rome. His head is leagues and leagues away +all the while; he never heeds what you are saying. Why I think no +more of confessing my sins to him than of telling them to that wall. +Once, to try him, I confessed, along with the rest, as how I had +killed my lodger's little girl and baked her in a pie. Well, when +my voice left off confessing, he started out of his dream, and says he, +a mustering up a gloom, 'My erring sister, say three paternosters +and three ave Marias kneeling, and eat no butter nor eggs next +Wednesday, and pax vobiscum!' and off a went with his hands +behind him, looking as if there was no such thing as me in the +world."</p> + +<p>Teresa waited patiently, then calmly brought this discursive lady +back to the point: "Would she be so kind as go with this good +youth to the friar and speak for him?"</p> + +<p>"Alack! how can I leave my shop? And what need? His door +is aye open to writers, and painters, and scholars, and all such cattle. +Why, one day he would not receive the Duke d'Urbino, because a +learned Greek was closeted with him, and the friar's head and his +so close together over a dusty parchment just come in from Greece, +as you could put one cowl over the pair. His wench Onesta told +me. She mostly looks in here for a chat when she goes an errand."</p> + +<p>"This is the man for thee, my friend," said Teresa.</p> + +<p>"All you have to do," continued Lucretia, "is to go to his lodgings +(my boy shall show them you), and tell Onesta you come from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[445]</a></span> +me, and you are a writer, and she will take you up to him. If +you put a piece of silver in the wench's hand, 'twill do you no harm: +that stands to reason."</p> + +<p>"I have silver," said Teresa, warmly.</p> + +<p>"But stay," said Lucretia, "mind one thing. What the young +man saieth he can do, that he must be able to do, or let him shun +the good friar like poison. He is a very wild beast against all +bunglers. Why, 'twas but t'other day, one brought him an ill-carved +crucifix. Says he: 'Is this how you present 'Salvator Mundi?' who +died for you in mortal agony; and you go and grudge him careful +work. This slovenly gimcrack, a crucifix? But that it is a crucifix +of some sort, and I am a holy man, I'd dust your jacket with your +crucifix,' says he. Onesta heard every word through the keyhole; +so mind."</p> + +<p>"Have no fears, madama," said Teresa, loftily. "I will answer +for his ability; he saved my child."</p> + +<p>Gerard was not subtle enough to appreciate this conclusion: and +was so far from sharing Teresa's confidence that he begged a respite. +He would rather not go to the friar to-day: would not to-morrow +do as well?</p> + +<p>"Here is a coward for ye," said Lucretia.</p> + +<p>"No, he is not a coward," said Teresa, firing up. "He is modest."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid of this high-born, fastidious friar," said Gerard. +"Consider, he has seen the handywork of all the writers in Italy, dear +dame Teresa; if you would but let me prepare a better piece of work +than yet I have done, and then to-morrow I will face him with it."</p> + +<p>"I consent," said Teresa.</p> + +<p>They walked home together.</p> + +<p>Not far from his own lodging was a shop that sold vellum. There +was a beautiful white skin in the window. Gerard looked at it wistfully; +but he knew he could not pay for it; so he went on rather +hastily. However, he soon made up his mind where to get vellum: +and, parting with Teresa at his own door, ran hastily up stairs, and +took the bond he had brought all the way from Sevenbergen, and +laid it with a sigh on the table. He then prepared with his chemicals +to erase the old writing; but, as this was his last chance of reading +it, he now overcame his deadly repugnance to bad writing, and +proceeded to decipher the deed in spite of its detestable contractions. +It appeared by this deed that Ghysbrecht Van Swieten was to advance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[446]</a></span> +some money to Floris Brandt on a piece of land, and was to +repay himself out of the rent.</p> + +<p>On this Gerard felt it would be imprudent and improper to destroy +the deed. On the contrary he vowed to decipher every word, +at his leisure. He went down stairs, determined to buy a small +piece of vellum with his half of the card money.</p> + +<p>At the bottom of the stairs he found the landlady and Teresa +talking. At sight of him the former cried: "Here he is. You are +caught, donna mia. See what she has bought you!" And whipped +out from under her apron the very skin of vellum Gerard had +longed for.</p> + +<p>"Why, dame! why, donna Teresa!" And he was speechless, with +pleasure and astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Dear donna Teresa, there is not a skin in all Rome like it. How +ever came you to hit on this one? 'Tis glamour."</p> + +<p>"Alas, dear boy, did not thine eye rest on it with desire? and didst +thou not sigh in turning away from it? And was it for Teresa to +let thee want the thing after that?"</p> + +<p>"What sagacity! what goodness, madama! Oh, dame, I never +thought I should possess this. What did you pay for it?"</p> + +<p>"I forget. Addio, Fiammina. Addio, Ser Gerard. Be happy, +be prosperous, as you are good." And the Roman matron glided +away, while Gerard was hesitating, and thinking how to offer to pay +so stately a creature for her purchase.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The next day in the afternoon he went to Lucretia, and her boy +took him to Fra Colonna's lodgings. He announced his business +and feed Onesta, and she took him up to the friar. Gerard entered +with a beating heart. The room, a large one, was strewed and +heaped with objects of art, antiquity, and learning, lying about in +rich profusion, and confusion. Manuscripts, pictures, carvings in +wood and ivory, musical instruments; and in this glorious chaos sat +the friar, poring intently over an Arabian manuscript.</p> + +<p>He looked up a little peevishly at the interruption. Onesta whispered +in his ear.</p> + +<p>"Very well," said he. "Let him be seated. Stay; young man, +show me how you write!" And he threw Gerard a piece of paper, +and pointed to an inkhorn.</p> + +<p>"So please you, reverend father," said Gerard, "my hand, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447">[447]</a></span> +trembleth too much at this moment; but last night I wrote a vellum +page of Greek, and the Latin version by its side, to show the various +character."</p> + +<p>"Show it me!"</p> + +<p>Gerard brought the work to him in fear and trembling; then +stood, heart-sick, awaiting his verdict.</p> + +<p>When it came it staggered him. For the verdict was, a Dominican +falling on his neck.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>HAPPY the man who has two chain-cables; Merit, and +Women.</div> + +<p>Oh that I, like Gerard, had a "chaine des dames" to +pull up by.</p> + +<p>I would be prose laureat, or professor of the spasmodic, or something, +in no time. En attendant, I will sketch the Fra Colonna.</p> + +<p>The true revivers of ancient learning and philosophy, were two +writers of fiction—Petrarch, and Boccaccio.</p> + +<p>Their labours were not crowned with great, public, and immediate +success; but they sowed the good seed; and it never perished, but +quickened in the soil, awaiting sunshine.</p> + +<p>From their day Italy was never without a native scholar or two, +versed in Greek; and each learned Greek who landed there was received +fraternally. The fourteenth century, ere its close, saw the +birth of Poggio, Valla, and the elder Guarino: and early in the fifteenth +Florence under Cosmo de Medici was a nest of Platonists. +These, headed by Gemistus Pletho, a born Greek, began about <span class="smcap">a. d.</span> +1440, to write down Aristotle. For few minds are big enough to +be just to great A without being unjust to capital B.</p> + +<p>Theodore Gaza defended that great man with moderation; George +of Trebizond with acerbity, and retorted on Plato. Then Cardinal +Bessarion, another born Greek, resisted the said George, and his +idol, in a tract "Adversus calumniatorem Platonis."</p> + +<p>Pugnacity, whether wise or not, is a form of vitality. Born without +controversial bile in so zealous an epoch, Francesco Colonna, a +young nobleman of Florence, lived for the arts. At twenty he +turned Dominican friar. His object was quiet study. He retired<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span> +from idle company, and faction fights, the humming and the stinging +of the human hive, to St. Dominic and the Nine Muses.</p> + +<p>An eager student of languages, pictures, statues, chronology, coins, +and monumental inscriptions. These last loosened his faith in popular +histories.</p> + +<p>He travelled many years in the East, and returned laden with +spoils: master of several choice MSS., and versed in Greek and +Latin, Hebrew and Syriac. He found his country had not stood +still. Other lettered princes besides Cosmo had sprung up. Alfonso +King of Naples, Nicolas d'Este, Lionel d'Este, &c. Above all, his +old friend Thomas of Sarzana had been made pope, and had lent a +mighty impulse to letters; had accumulated 5,000 MSS. in the library +of the Vatican, and had set Poggio to translate Diodorus Siculus +and Xenophon's Cyropædia, Laurentius Valla to translate +Herodotus and Thucydides, Theodore Gaza, Theophrastus; George +of Trebizond, Eusebius, and certain treatises of Plato, etc., etc.</p> + +<p>The monk found Plato and Aristotle under armistice, but Poggio +and Valla at loggerheads over verbs and nouns, and on fire with +odium philologicum. All this was heaven; and he settled down +in his native land, his life a rosy dream. None so happy as the versatile, +provided they have not their bread to make by it. And +Fra Colonna was Versatility. He knew seven or eight languages, +and a little mathematics; could write a bit, paint a bit, model a bit, +sing a bit, strum a bit; and could relish superior excellence in all +these branches. For this last trait he deserved to be as happy as +he was. For, gauge the intellects of your acquaintances, and you +will find but few whose minds are neither deaf, nor blind, nor +dead to some great art or science,</p> + +<div class='center'> +"And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out."<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>And such of them as are conceited as well as stupid, shall even parade, +instead of blushing for, the holes in their intellects.</div> + +<p>A zealot in art, the friar was a sceptic in religion.</p> + +<p>In every age there are a few men, who hold the opinions of another +age; past or future. Being a lump of simplicity, his scepticism +was as naïf as his enthusiasm. He affected to look on the religious +ceremonies of his day as his models, the heathen philosophers, regarded +the worship of gods and departed heroes: mummeries good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[449]</a></span> +for the populace. But here his mind drew unconsciously a droll +distinction. Whatever Christian ceremony his learning taught him +was of purely pagan origin, that he respected, out of respect for +antiquity; though had he, with his turn of mind, been a pagan and +its cotemporary, he would have scorned it from his philosophic +heights.</p> + +<p>Fra Colonna was charmed with his new artist, and, having the run +of half the palaces in Rome, sounded his praises so, that he was +soon called upon to resign him. He told Gerard what great princes +wanted him. "But I am so happy with you, father," objected +Gerard. "Fiddlestick about being happy with me," said Fra +Colonna, "you must not be happy; you must be a man of the world; +the grand lesson I impress on the young is be a man of the world. +Now these Montesini can pay you three times as much as I can, and +they shall too—by Jupiter."</p> + +<p>And the friar clapped a terrific price on Gerard's pen. It was +acceded to without a murmur. Much higher prices were going for +<i>copying</i>, than <i>authorship</i> ever obtained for centuries under the +printing press.</p> + +<p>Gerard had three hundred crowns for Aristotle's treatise on rhetoric.</p> + +<p>The great are mighty sweet upon all their pets, while the fancy +lasts: and in the rage for Greek MSS. the handsome writer soon became +a pet, and nobles of both sexes caressed him like a lap dog. +It would have turned a vain fellow's head; but the canny Dutchman +saw the steel hand beneath the velvet glove, and did not presume. +Nevertheless it was a proud day for him, when he found himself +seated with Fra Colonna at the table of his present employer, Cardinal +Bessarion. They were about a mile from the top of that table; +but, never mind, there they were; and Gerard had the advantage of +seeing roast pheasants dished up with all their feathers as if they +had just flown out of a coppice instead of off the spit: also chickens +cooked in bottles, and tender as peaches. But the grand novelty was +the napkins, surpassingly fine, and folded into cocked hats, and birds' +wings, and fans, etc., instead of lying flat. This electrified Gerard: +though my readers have seen the dazzling phenomenon without +tumbling backwards chair and all.</p> + +<p>After dinner the tables were split in pieces, and carried away,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[450]</a></span> +and lo under each was another table spread with sweetmeats. The +signoras, and signorinas, fell upon them and gormandized; but the +signors eyed them with reasonable suspicion.</p> + +<p>"But, dear father," objected Gerard, "I see not the bifurcal daggers, +with which men say his excellency armeth the left hand of a +man."</p> + +<p>"Nay, 'tis the Cardinal Orsini which hath invented yon peevish +instrument for his guests to fumble their meat withal. One, being +in haste, did skewer his tongue to his palate with it I hear; O tempora, +O mores! The ancients, reclining godlike at their feasts, how +have they spurned such pedantries."</p> + +<p>As soon as the ladies had disported themselves among the sugar-plums, +the tables were suddenly removed, and the guests sat in a +row against the wall. Then came in, ducking and scraping, two +ecclesiastics with lutes, and kneeled at the cardinal's feet and there +sang the service of the day; then retired with a deep obeisance: in +answer to which the cardinal fingered his skull cap as our late Iron +Duke his hat: the company dispersed, and Gerard had dined with a +cardinal, and one that had thrice just missed being pope.</p> + +<p>But greater honour was in store.</p> + +<p>One day the cardinal sent for him, and after praising the beauty +of his work took him in his coach to the Vatican: and up a private +stair to a luxurious little room, with a great oriel window. Here +were inkstands, sloping frames for writing on, and all the instruments +of art. The cardinal whispered a courtier, and presently +the Pope's private secretary appeared with a glorious grimy old +MS. of Plutarch's Lives. And soon Gerard was seated alone copying +it, awestruck, yet half delighted at the thought that his holiness +would handle his work and read it.</p> + +<p>The papal inkstands were all glorious externally; but within the +ink was vile. But Gerard carried ever good ink, home-made, in a +dirty little inkhorn: he prayed on his knees for a firm and skilful +hand, and set to work.</p> + +<p>One side of his room was nearly occupied by a massive curtain +divided in the centre: but its ample folds overlapped. After a while, +Gerard felt drawn to peep through that curtain. He resisted the impulse. +It returned. It overpowered him. He left Plutarch; stole +across the matted floor; took the folds of the curtain, and gently +gathered them up with his fingers, and putting his nose through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451">[451]</a></span> +the chink ran it against a cold steel halbert. Two soldiers armed +cap-à-pie, were holding their glittering weapons crossed in a triangle. +Gerard drew swiftly back: but in that instant he heard the +soft murmur of voices and saw a group of persons cringing before +some hidden figure.</p> + +<p>He never repeated his attempt to pry through the guarded curtain; +but often eyed it. Every hour or so an ecclesiastic peeped in, eyed +him, chilled him, and exit. All this was gloomy and mechanical. +But the next day a gentleman, richly armed, bounced in, and glared +at him. "What is toward here?" said he.</p> + +<p>Gerard told him he was writing out Plutarch, with the help of the +saints. The spark said he did not know the signor in question. +Gerard explained the circumstances of time and space, that had +deprived the Signor Plutarch of the advantage of the spark's conversation.</p> + +<p>"Oh! one of those old dead Greeks they keep such a coil about."</p> + +<p>"Ay, signor, one of them, who, being dead, yet live."</p> + +<p>"I understand you not, young man," said the noble, with all the +dignity of ignorance. "What did the old fellow write? Love +stories?" and his eyes sparkled: "merry tales like Boccaccio."</p> + +<p>"Nay lives of heroes, and sages."</p> + +<p>"Soldiers, and popes?"</p> + +<p>"Soldiers, and princes."</p> + +<p>"Wilt read me of them some day?"</p> + +<p>"And willingly, signor. But what would they say who employ +me, were I to break off work?"</p> + +<p>"Oh never heed that; know you not who I am? I am Jacques +Bonaventura, nephew to his holiness the Pope, and captain of his +guards. And I came here to look after my fellows. I trow they +have turned them out of their room for you." Signor Bonaventura +then hurried away. This lively companion however having acquired +a habit of running into that little room, and finding Gerard good +company, often looked in on him, and chatted ephemeralities while +Gerard wrote the immortal lives.</p> + +<p>One day he came a changed, and moody man, and threw himself +into a chair, crying "Ah, traitress! traitress!" Gerard inquired +what was his ill? "Traitress! traitress!" was the reply. Whereupon +Gerard wrote Plutarch. Then says Bonaventura "I am +melancholy; and for our Lady's sake read me a story out of Ser<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[452]</a></span> +Plutarcho, to sooth my bile: in all that Greek is there nought about +lovers betrayed?"</p> + +<p>Gerard read him the life of Alexander. He got excited, marched +about the room, and embracing the reader, vowed to shun "soft +delights," that bed of nettles, and follow glory.</p> + +<p>Who so happy now as Gerard? His art was honoured, and fabulous +prices paid for it; in a year or two he should return by sea +to Holland, with good store of money, and set up with his beloved +Margaret in Bruges, or Antwerp, or dear Augsburg, and end their +days in peace, and love, and healthy, happy labour. His heart never +strayed an instant from her.</p> + +<p>In his prosperity he did not forget poor Pietro. He took the +Fra Colonna to see his picture. The friar inspected it severely and +closely, fell on the artist's neck, and carried the picture to one of the +Colonnas, who gave a noble price for it.</p> + +<p>Pietro descended to the first floor; and lived like a gentleman.</p> + +<p>But Gerard remained in his garret. To increase his expenses +would have been to postpone his return to Margaret. Luxury had +no charms for the single-hearted one, when opposed to love.</p> + +<p>Jacques Bonaventura made him acquainted with other gay young +fellows. They loved him, and sought to entice him into vice, and +other expenses. But he begged humbly to be excused. So he escaped +that temptation. But a greater was behind.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>FRA COLONNA had the run of the Pope's library, and sometimes +left off work at the same hour and walked the city +with Gerard; on which occasions the happy artist saw all +things en beau, and was wrapped up in the grandeur of Rome and +its churches, palaces, and ruins.</div> + +<p>The friar granted the ruins, but threw cold water on the rest.</p> + +<p>"This place Rome? It is but the tomb of mighty Rome." He +showed Gerard that twenty or thirty feet of the old triumphal arches +were underground, and that the modern streets ran over ancient palaces; +and over the tops of columns; and coupling this with the +comparatively narrow limits of the modern city, and the gigantic +vestiges of antiquity that peeped above ground here and there, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[453]</a></span> +uttered a somewhat remarkable simile. "I tell thee this village they +call Rome is but as one of those swallows' nests ye shall see built on +the eaves of a decayed abbey."</p> + +<p>"Old Rome must indeed have been fair then," said Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Judge for yourself, my son; you see the great sewer, the work +of the Romans in their very childhood, and shall outlast Vesuvius. +You see the fragments of the Temple of Peace. How would you look +could you see also the Capitol with its five-and-twenty temples? Do +but note this Monte Savello: what is it, an it please you, but the +ruins of the ancient theatre of Marcellus? and as for Testacio, one +of the highest hills in modern Rome, it is but an ancient dust +heap; the women of old Rome flung their broken pots and pans there, +and lo; a mountain.</p> + +<div class='center'> +'Ex pede Herculem; ex ungue leonem.'"<br /> +</div> + +<p>Gerard listened respectfully, but when the holy friar proceeded by +analogy to imply that the moral superiority of the heathen Romans +was proportionally grand, he resisted stoutly. "Has then the world +lost by Christ his coming?" said he; but blushed, for he felt himself +reproaching his benefactor.</p> + +<p>"Saints forbid!" said the friar. "'Twere heresy to say so." +And, having made this direct concession, he proceeded gradually to +evade it by subtle circumlocution, and reached the forbidden door +by the spiral back staircase. In the midst of all which they came +to a church with a knot of persons in the porch. A demon was being +exorcised within. Now Fra Colonna had a way of uttering a +curious sort of little moan, when things Zeno or Epicurus would +not have swallowed were presented to him as facts. This moan +conveyed to such, as had often heard it, not only strong dissent, but +pity for human credulity, ignorance, and error, especially of course +when it blinded men to the merits of Pagandom.</p> + +<p>The friar moaned, and said, "Then come away."</p> + +<p>"Nay, father, prithee! prithee! I ne'er saw a divell cast out."</p> + +<p>The friar accompanied Gerard into the church, but had a good +shrug first. There they found the demoniac forced down on his +knees before the altar with a scarf tied round his neck, by which +the officiating priest held him like a dog in a chain.</p> + +<p>Not many persons were present, for fame had put forth that the +last demon cast out in that church went no farther than into one of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[454]</a></span> +the company: "as a cony ferreted out of one burrow runs to the +next."</p> + +<p>When Gerard and the friar came up the priest seemed to think +there were now spectators enough; and began.</p> + +<p>He faced the demoniac, breviary in hand, and first set himself +to learn the individual's name with whom he had to deal.</p> + +<p>"Come out, Ashtaroth. Oho! it is not you then. Come out, Belial. +Come out, Tatzi. Come out, Eza. No: he trembles not. Come +out, Azymoth. Come out, Feriander. Come out, Foletho. Come +out, Astyma. Come out, Nebul. Aha! what, have I found ye? 'tis +thou, thou reptile; at thine old tricks. Let us pray!—</p> + +<p>"Oh Lord, we pray thee to drive the foul fiend Nebul out of this +thy creature: out of his hair, and his eyes, out of his nose, out of +his mouth, out of his ears, out of his gums, out of his teeth, out of his +shoulders, out of his arms, legs, loins, stomach, bowels, thighs, knees, +calves, feet, ankles, fingernails, toe-nails, and soul. Amen."</p> + +<p>The priest then rose from his knees, and turning to the company +said, with quiet geniality, "Gentles, we have here as obstinate a divell +as you may see in a summer day." Then, facing the patient, he +spoke to him with great rigour, sometimes addressing the man, and +sometimes the fiend, and they answered him in turn through the +same mouth, now saying that they hated those holy names the priest +kept uttering, and now complaining they did feel so bad in their +inside.</p> + +<p>It was the priest who first confounded the victim and the culprit +in idea, by pitching into the former, cuffing him soundly, kicking +him, and spitting repeatedly in his face. Then he took a candle +and lighted it, and turned it down, and burned it till it burned his +fingers; when he dropped it double quick. Then took the custodial; +and showed the patient the Corpus Domini within. Then burned +another candle as before, but more cautiously: then spoke civilly +to the demoniac in his human character, dismissed him, and received +the compliments of the company.</p> + +<p>"Good father," said Gerard, "how you have their names by heart. +Our northern priests have no such exquisite knowledge of the hellish +squadrons."</p> + +<p>"Ay, young man, here we know all their names, and eke their +ways, the reptiles. This Nebul is a bitter hard one to hunt out."</p> + +<p>He then told the company in the most affable way several of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[455]</a></span> +experiences; concluding with his feat of yesterday, when he drove a +great hulking fiend out of a woman by her mouth, leaving behind +him certain nails, and pins, and a tuft of his own hair, and cried +out in a voice of anguish, ''Tis not thou that conquers me. See +that stone on the window sill. Know that the angel Gabriel coming +down to earth once lighted on that stone: 'tis that has done my +business.'"</p> + +<p>The friar moaned. "And you believed him?"</p> + +<p>"Certes! who, but an infidel had discredited a revelation so precise?"</p> + +<p>"What, believe the father of lies? That is pushing credulity beyond +the age."</p> + +<p>"Oh, a liar does not always lie."</p> + +<p>"Ay doth he whenever he tells an improbable story to begin, and +shows you a holy relic; arms you against the satanic host. Fiends +(if any) be not so simple. Shouldst have answered him out of antiquity—</p> + +<div class='center'> +Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>Some blackguard chopped his wife's head off on that stone, young +man; you take my word for it." And the friar hurried Gerard +away.</div> + +<p>"Alack, father, I fear you abashed the good priest."</p> + +<p>"Ay, by Pollux," said the friar, with a chuckle; "I blistered him +with a single touch of 'Socratic interrogation.' What modern can +parry the weapons of antiquity?"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>One afternoon, when Gerard had finished his day's work, a fine +lacquey came and demanded his attendance at the palace Cesarini. +He went and was ushered into a noble apartment; there was a girl +seated in it, working on a tapestry. She rose and left the room, and +said she would let her mistress know.</p> + +<p>A good hour did Gerard cool his heels in that great room, and +at last he began to fret. "These nobles think nothing of a poor +fellow's time." However, just as he was making up his mind to +slip out, and go about his business, the door opened, and a superb +beauty entered the room followed by two maids. It was the young +princess of the house of Cesarini. She came in talking rather loudly +and haughtily to her dependents, but at sight of Gerard lowered her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[456]</a></span> +voice to a very feminine tone, and said, "Are you the writer, messer?"</p> + +<p>"I am, signora."</p> + +<p>"'Tis well." She then seated herself; Gerard and her maids +remained standing.</p> + +<p>"What is your name, good youth?"</p> + +<p>"Gerard, signora."</p> + +<p>"Gerard? body of Bacchus! is that the name of a human creature?"</p> + +<p>"It is a Dutch name, signora. I was born at Tergou, in Holland."</p> + +<p>"A harsh name, girls, for so well-favoured a youth; what say +you?"</p> + +<p>The maids assented warmly.</p> + +<p>"What did I send for him for?" inquired the lady, with lofty +languor. "Ah, I remember. Be seated, Ser Gerardo, and write +me a letter to Ercole Orsini, my lover; at least he says so."</p> + +<p>Gerard seated himself, took out paper and ink, and looked up to +the princess for instructions.</p> + +<p>She, seated on a much higher chair, almost a throne, looked down +at him with eyes equally inquiring.</p> + +<p>"Well, Gerardo."</p> + +<p>"I am ready, your excellence."</p> + +<p>"Write, then."</p> + +<p>"I but await the words."</p> + +<p>"And who, think you, is to provide <i>them?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Who but your grace, whose letter it is to be."</p> + +<p>"Gramercy! what, you writers, find you not the words? What +avails your art without the words? I doubt you are an impostor, +Gerardo."</p> + +<p>"Nay, signora, I am none. I might make shift to put your highness's +speech into grammar, as well as writing. But I cannot interpret +your silence. Therefore speak what is in your heart, and I +will empaper it before your eyes."</p> + +<p>"But there is nothing in my heart. And sometimes I think I +have got no heart."</p> + +<p>"What is in your mind, then?"</p> + +<p>"But there is nothing in my mind; nor my head neither."</p> + +<p>"Then why write at all?"</p> + +<p>"Why, indeed? That is the first word of sense either you or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[457]</a></span> +I have spoken, Gerardo. Pestilence seize him! why writeth he not +first? then I could say nay to this, and ay to that, withouten headache. +Also is it a lady's part to say the first word?"</p> + +<p>"No, signora: the last."</p> + +<p>"It is well spoken, Gerardo. Ha! ha! Shalt have a gold piece +for thy wit. Give me my purse!" And she paid him for the +article on the nail à la moyen âge. Money never yet chilled zeal. +Gerard, after getting a gold piece so cheap, felt bound to pull her +out of her difficulty; if the wit of man might achieve it. "Signorina," +said he, "these things are only hard because folk attempt too +much, are artificial and labour phrases. Do but figure to yourself +the signor you love—"</p> + +<p>"I love him not."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, the signor you love not—seated at this table, and +dict to me just what you would say to him."</p> + +<p>"Well if he sat there I should say, 'Go away.'"</p> + +<p>Gerard, who was flourishing his pen by way of preparation, laid +it down with a groan.</p> + +<p>"And when he was gone," said Floretta, "your highness would +say, 'Come back.'"</p> + +<p>"Like enough, wench. Now silence, all, and let me think. He +pestered me to write, and I promised; so mine honour is engaged. +What lie shall I tell the Gerardo to tell the fool?" and she turned +her head away from them and fell into deep thought, with her noble +chin resting on her white hand, half clenched.</p> + +<p>She was so lovely and statuesque, and looked so inspired with +thoughts celestial, as she sat thus, impregnating herself with mendacity, +that Gerard forgot all, except art, and proceeded eagerly +to transfer that exquisite profile to paper.</p> + +<p>He had very nearly finished when the fair statue turned +brusquely round and looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Nay, signora," said he, a little peevishly, "for Heaven's sake +change not your posture; 'twas perfect. See, you are nearly finished."</p> + +<p>All eyes were instantly on the work, and all tongues active. +"How like! and done in a minute: nay, methinks her highness's +chin is not quite so—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, a touch will make that right."</p> + +<p>"What a pity 'tis not coloured. I'm all for colours. Hang black<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[458]</a></span> +and white! And her highness hath such a lovely skin. Take away +her skin, and half her beauty is lost."</p> + +<p>"Peace. Can you colour, Ser Gerardo?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, signorina. I am a poor hand at oils; there shines my friend +Pietro: but in this small way I can tint you to the life, if you have +time to waste on such vanity."</p> + +<p>"Call you this vanity? And for time, it hangs on me like lead. +Send for your colours now,—quick,—this moment,—for love of +all the saints."</p> + +<p>"Nay, signorina, I must prepare them. I could come at the same +time to-morrow."</p> + +<p>"So be it. And you, Floretta, see that he be admitted at all +hours. Alack! leave my head! leave my head!"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, signora; I thought to prepare it at home to receive +the colours. But I will leave it. And now let us despatch the letter."</p> + +<p>"What letter?"</p> + +<p>"To the Signor Orsini."</p> + +<p>"And shall I waste my <i>time</i> on such <i>vanity</i> as writing letters—and +to that empty creature, to whom I am as indifferent as the moon? +Nay, not indifferent, for I have just discovered my real sentiments, +I hate him and despise him. Girls, I here forbid you once for all +to mention that signor's name to me again; else I'll whip you till +the blood comes. You know how I can lay on when I'm roused."</p> + +<p>"We do. We do."</p> + +<p>"Then provoke me not to it;" and her eye flashed daggers, and +she turned to Gerard all instantaneous honey. "Addio, il Gerar-do." +And Gerard bowed himself out of this velvet tiger's den.</p> + +<p>He came next day and coloured her; and next he was set to +make a portrait of her on a large scale; and then a full-length figure; +and he was obliged to set apart two hours in the afternoon for +drawing and painting this princess, whose beauty and vanity were +prodigious, and candidates for a portrait of her numerous. Here +the thriving Gerard found a new and fruitful source of income.</p> + +<p>Margaret seemed nearer and nearer.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>It was Holy Thursday. No work this day. Fra Colonna and +Gerard sat in a window and saw the religious processions. Their +number and pious ardour thrilled Gerard with the devotion that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459">[459]</a></span> +now seemed to animate the whole people, lately bent on earthly +joys.</p> + +<p>Presently the Pope came pacing majestically at the head of his +cardinals, in a red hat, white cloak, a capuchin of red velvet, and +riding a lovely white Neapolitan barb, caparisoned with red velvet +fringed and tasselled with gold; a hundred horsemen, armed cap-à-pie, +rode behind him with their lances erected, the butt-end resting +on the man's thigh. The cardinals went uncovered, all but one, de +Medicis, who rode close to the Pope and conversed with him as with +an equal. At every fifteen steps the Pope stopped a single moment, +and gave the people his blessing, then on again.</p> + +<p>Gerard and the friar now came down, and threading some bystreets +reached the portico of one of the seven churches. It was +hung with black, and soon the Pope and cardinals, who had entered +the church by another door, issued forth, and stood with torches on +the steps, separated by barriers from the people; then a canon read +a Latin Bull, excommunicating several persons by name, especially +such princes as were keeping the Church out of any of her temporal +possessions.</p> + +<p>At this awful ceremony Gerard trembled, and so did the people. +But two of the cardinals spoiled the effect by laughing unreservedly +the whole time.</p> + +<p>When this was ended, the black cloth was removed, and revealed +a gay panoply; and the Pope blessed the people, and ended by +throwing his torch among them; so did two cardinals. Instantly +there was a scramble for the torches: they were fought for, and +torn in pieces by the candidates, so devoutly that small fragments +were gained at the price of black eyes, bloody noses, and burnt +fingers; in which hurtling his holiness and suite withdrew in peace.</p> + +<p>And now there was a cry, and the crowd rushed to a square +where was a large, open stage: several priests were upon it praying. +They rose, and with great ceremony donned red gloves. Then +one of their number kneeled, and with signs of the lowest reverence +drew forth from a shrine a square frame, like that of a mirror, and +inside was as it were the impression of a face.</p> + +<p>It was the Verum icon, or true impression of our Saviour's face, +taken at the very moment of his most mortal agony for us. Received +as it was without a grain of doubt, imagine how it moved +every Christian heart.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[460]</a></span></p> + +<p>The people threw themselves on their faces when the priest raised +it on high; and cries of pity were in every mouth, and tears in almost +every eye. After a while the people rose, and then the priests +went round the platform, showing it for a single moment to the +nearest; and at each sight loud cries of pity and devotion burst +forth.</p> + +<p>Soon after this the friends fell in with a procession of <i>Flagellants</i> +flogging their bare shoulders till the blood ran streaming down; but +without a sign of pain in their faces, and many of them laughing and +jesting as they lashed. The bystanders out of pity offered them +wine; they took it, but few drank it, they generally used it to free +the tails of the cat, which were hard with clotted blood, and make the +next stroke more effective. Most of them were boys, and a young +woman took pity on one fair urchin. "Alas! dear child," said +she, "why wound thy white skin so?" "Basta," said he, laughing, +"'tis for your sins I do it, not for mine."</p> + +<p>"Hear you that?" said the friar. "Show me the whip that can +whip the vanity out of man's heart! The young monkey; how knoweth +he that stranger is a sinner more than he?"</p> + +<p>"Father," said Gerard, "surely this is not to our Lord's mind. +He was so pitiful."</p> + +<p>"Our Lord?" said the friar, crossing himself. "What has he +to do with this? This was a custom in Rome six hundred years +before he was born. The boys used to go through the streets at the +Lupercalia, flogging themselves. And the married women used to +shove in, and try and get a blow from the monkeys' scourges; for +these blows conferred fruitfulness—in those days. A foolish trick +this flagellation; but interesting to the bystander; reminds him of +the grand old heathen. We are so prone to forget all we owe them."</p> + +<p>Next they got into one of the seven churches, and saw the Pope +give the mass. The ceremony was imposing, but again spoiled by +the inconsistent conduct of the cardinals, and other prelates, who sat +about the altar with their hats on, chattering all through the mass +like a flock of geese.</p> + +<p>The eucharist in both kinds was tasted by an official before the +Pope would venture on it: and this surprised Gerard beyond measure. +"Who is that base man? and what doth he there?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is 'The Preguste,' and he tastes the eucharist by way<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[461]</a></span> +of precaution. This is the country for poison; and none fall oftener +by it than the poor Popes."</p> + +<p>"Alas! so I have heard; but after the miraculous change of the +bread and wine to Christ his body and blood, poison cannot remain; +gone is the bread with all its properties and accidents; gone is the +wine."</p> + +<p>"So says faith; but experience tells another tale. Scores have +died in Italy poisoned in the host."</p> + +<p>"And I tell you, father, that were both bread and wine charged +with direst poison before his holiness had consecrated them, yet after +consecration I would take them both withouten fear."</p> + +<p>"So would I, but for the fine arts."</p> + +<p>"What mean you?"</p> + +<p>"Marry, that I would be as ready to leave the world as thou, +were it not for those arts, which beautify existence here below, and +make it dear to men of sense and education. No: so long as the +Nine Muses strew my path with roses of learning and art, me may +Apollo inspire with wisdom and caution, that knowing the wiles of +my countrymen, I may eat poison neither at God's altar nor at a +friend's table, since, wherever I eat it or drink it, it will assuredly +cut short my mortal thread; and I am writing a book—heart and +soul in it—'The Dream of Polifilo,' the man of many arts. So +name not poison to me till that is finished and copied."</p> + +<p>And now the great bells of St. John Lateran's were rung with +a clash at short intervals, and the people hurried thither to see the +heads of St. Peter and St. Paul.</p> + +<p>Gerard and the friar got a good place in the church, and there +was a great curtain, and, after long and breathless expectation of the +people, this curtain was drawn by jerks, and at a height of about +thirty feet were two human heads with bearded faces that seemed +alive. They were shown no longer than the time to say an Ave +Maria, and then the curtain drawn. But they were shown in this +fashion three times. St. Peter's complexion was pale, his face oval, +his beard gray and forked; his head crowned with a papal mitre. +St. Paul was dark skinned, with a thick, square beard; his face also +and head were more square and massive, and full of resolution.</p> + +<p>Gerard was awe-struck. The friar approved after his fashion.</p> + +<p>"This exhibition of the 'imagines,' or waxen effigies of heroes and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[462]</a></span> +demigods, is a venerable custom, and inciteth the vulgar to virtue +by great and visible examples."</p> + +<p>"Waxen images? What, are they not the apostles themselves, +embalmed, or the like?"</p> + +<p>The friar moaned.</p> + +<p>"They did not exist in the year 800. The great old Roman families +always produced at their funerals a series of these 'imagines,' +thereby tying past and present history together, and showing the +populace the features of far-famed worthies. I can conceive nothing +more thrilling or instructive. But then the effigies were portraits +made during life or at the hour of death. These of St. Paul +and St. Peter are moulded out of pure fancy."</p> + +<p>"Ah! say not so, father."</p> + +<p>"But the worst is, this humour of showing them up on a shelf, +and half in the dark, and by snatches, and with the poor mountebank +trick of a drawn curtain.</p> + +<div class='center'> +Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic incredulus odi.<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>Enough; the men of this day are not the men of old. Let us have +done with these new-fangled mummeries, and go among the Pope's +books; there we shall find the wisdom we shall vainly hunt in the +streets of modern Rome."</div> + +<p>And, this idea having once taken root, the good friar plunged +and tore through the crowd, and looked neither to the right hand +nor to the left, till he had escaped the glories of the holy week, +which had brought fifty thousand strangers to Rome; and had got +nice and quiet among the dead in the library of the Vatican.</p> + +<p>Presently, going into Gerard's room, he found a hot dispute afoot, +between him and Jacques Bonaventura. That spark had come +in, all steel from head to toe; doffed helmet, puffed, and railed most +scornfully on a ridiculous ceremony, at which he and his soldiers had +been compelled to attend the Pope; to wit the blessing of the beasts +of burden.</p> + +<p>Gerard said it was not ridiculous; nothing a Pope did could be +ridiculous.</p> + +<p>The argument grew warm, and the friar stood grimly neuter, waiting +like the stork that ate the frog and the mouse at the close of +their combat, to grind them both between the jaws of antiquity: +when lo, the curtain was gently drawn, and there stood a venerable<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[463]</a></span> +old man in a purple skull cap, with a beard like white floss silk, +looking at them with a kind though feeble smile.</p> + +<p>"Happy youth," said he, "that can heat itself over such matters."</p> + +<p>They all fell on their knees. It was the Pope.</p> + +<p>"Nay, rise, my children," said he, almost peevishly. "I came +not into this corner to be in state. How goes Plutarch?"</p> + +<p>Gerard brought his work, and kneeling on one knee presented it +to his holiness, who had seated himself, the others standing.</p> + +<p>His holiness inspected it with interest. "'Tis excellently writ," +said he.</p> + +<p>Gerard's heart beat with delight.</p> + +<p>"Ah! this Plutarch, he had a wondrous art, Francesco. How each +character standeth out alive on his page: how full of nature each, +yet how unlike his fellow!"</p> + +<p><i>Jacques Bonaventura.</i>] "Give me the signor Boccaccio."</p> + +<p><i>His Holiness.</i>] "An excellent narrator, Capitano, and writeth exquisite +Italian. But in spirit a thought too monotonous. Monks +and nuns were never all unchaste: one or two such stories were right +pleasant and diverting; but five score paint his time falsely, and +sadden the heart of such as love mankind. Moreover he hath no +skill at characters. Now this Greek is supreme in that great art: +he carveth them with pen: and turning his page, see into how real +and great a world we enter of war, and policy, and business, and +love in its own place: for with him, as in the great world, men are +not all running after a wench. With this great open field compare +me not the narrow garden of Boccaccio, and his little mill-round +of dishonest pleasures."</p> + +<p>"Your holiness, they say, hath not disdained to write a novel."</p> + +<p>"My holiness hath done more foolish things than one, whereof +it repents too late. When I wrote novels I little thought to be head +of the Church."</p> + +<p>"I search in vain for a copy of it to add to my poor library."</p> + +<p>"It is well. Then the strict orders I gave four years ago to +destroy every copy in Italy, have been well discharged. However, +for your comfort, on my being made Pope, some fool turned it +into French: so that you may read it, at the price of exile."</p> + +<p>"Reduced to this strait we throw ourselves on your holiness's generosity. +Vouchsafe to give us your infallible judgment on it!"</p> + +<p>"Gently, gently, good Francesco. A Pope's novels are not matters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span> +of faith. I can but give you my sincere impression. Well then +the work in question had, as far as I remember, all the vices of +Boccaccio, without his choice Italian."</p> + +<p><i>Fra Colonna.</i>] "Your holiness is known for slighting Æneas +Silvius as other men never slighted him. I did him injustice to +make you his judge. Perhaps your holiness will decide more justly +between these two boys—about blessing the beasts."</p> + +<p>The Pope demurred. In speaking of Plutarch he had brightened +up for a moment, and his eye had even flashed; but his general manner +was as unlike what youthful females expect in a Pope as you +can conceive. I can only describe it in French. Le gentilhomme +blasé. A high bred, and highly cultivated gentleman, who had done, +and said, and seen, and known everything, and whose body was +nearly worn out. But double languor seem to seize him at the +father's proposal.</p> + +<p>"My poor Francesco," said he "bethink thee that I have had a life +of controversy, and am sick on't, sick as death. Plutarch drew me +to this calm retreat; not divinity."</p> + +<p>"Nay, but, your holiness, for moderating of strife between two +hot young bloods.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<ins title="Greek transliteration: Makarioi hoi eirênopoioi">Μακαριοι οι ειρηοποιοι'.'"</ins> +</div> + +<p>"And know you nature so ill, as to think either of these high-mettled +youths will reck what a poor old Pope saith?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! your holiness," broke in Gerard, blushing and gasping, +"sure, here is one who will treasure your words all his life as words +from Heaven."</p> + +<p>"In that case," said the Pope, "I am fairly caught. As Francesco +here would say—</p> + + +<div class='center'> +<ins title="Greek transliteration: ouk estin hostis est' anêr eleutheros">ουκ εοτιν ὁοτιϛ εοτ' ανηρ ζλεθεροϛ</ins>.'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>I came to taste that eloquent heathen, dear to me e'en as to thee, +thou paynim monk; and I must talk divinity, or something next +door to it. But the youth hath a good, and a winning face, and +writeth Greek like an angel. Well then, my children, to comprehend +the ways of the Church, we should still rise a little above the +earth, since the Church is between heaven and earth, and interprets +betwixt them.</div> + +<p>"The question is then, not how vulgar men feel, but how the common +Creator of man and beast doth feel, towards the lower animals. +This, if we are too proud to search for it in the lessons of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[465]</a></span> +Church, the next best thing is to go to the most ancient history of +men and animals."</p> + +<p><i>Colonna.</i>] "Herodotus."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; in this matter Herodotus is but a mushroom. Finely +were we sped for ancient history, if we depended on your Greeks, +who did but write on the last leaf of that great book, Antiquity."</p> + +<p>The friar groaned. Here was a Pope uttering heresy against his +demigods.</p> + +<p>"'Tis the Vulgate I speak of. A history that handles matters +three thousand years before him pedants call 'the Father of History.'"</p> + +<p><i>Colonna.</i>] "Oh! the Vulgate? I cry your holiness mercy. How +you frightened me. I quite forgot the Vulgate."</p> + +<p>"Forgot it? art sure thou ever readst it, Francesco mio?"</p> + +<p>"Not quite, your holiness. 'Tis a pleasure I have long promised +myself, the first vacant moment. Hitherto these grand old heathen +have left me small time for recreation."</p> + +<p><i>His Holiness.</i>] "First then you will find in Genesis that God, having +created the animals, drew a holy pleasure, undefinable by us, +from contemplating of their beauty. Was it wonderful? See their +myriad forms; their lovely hair, and eyes, their grace, and of some +the power and majesty; the colour of others, brighter than roses, or +rubies. And when, for man's sin, not their own, they were destroyed, +yet were two of each kind spared.</p> + +<p>"And when the ark and its trembling inmates tumbled solitary +on the world of water, then, saith the word, 'God remembered Noah, +<i>and the cattle that were with him in the ark</i>.'</p> + +<p>"Thereafter God did write his rainbow in the sky as a bond that +earth should be flooded no more; and between whom the bond? between +God and man, nay: between God and man, <i>and every living +creature of all flesh;</i> or my memory fails me with age. In Exodus +God commanded that the cattle should share the sweet blessing of the +one day's rest. Moreover he forbade to muzzle the ox that trod +out the corn. 'Nay let the poor overwrought soul snatch a mouthful +as he goes his toilsome round: the bulk of the grain shall still be for +man.' Ye will object perchance that St. Paul, commenting this, +saith rudely, 'Doth God care for oxen?' Verily, had I been Peter, +instead of the humblest of his successors, I had answered him. 'Drop +thy theatrical poets, Paul, and read the scriptures: then shalt thou<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[466]</a></span> +know whether God careth only for men and sparrows, or for all his +creatures. O Paul,' had I made bold to say, 'think not to learn God +by looking into Paul's heart, nor any heart of man, but study that +which he hath revealed concerning himself.'</p> + +<p>"Thrice he forbade the Jews to boil the kid in his mother's milk; +not that this is cruelty, but want of thought and gentle sentiments, +and so paves the way for downright cruelty. A prophet riding on an +ass did meet an angel. Which of these two, Paulo judice, had seen +the heavenly spirit? marry, the prophet. But it was not so. The +man, his vision cloyed with sin, saw nought. The poor despised +creature saw all. Nor is this recorded as miraculous. Poor proud +things, we overrate ourselves. The angel had slain the prophet and +spared the ass, but for that creature's clearer vision of essences divine. +He said so, methinks. But in sooth I read it many years +agone. Why did God spare repentant Nineveh? Because in that +city were sixty thousand children, <i>besides much cattle</i>.</p> + +<p>"Profane history and vulgar experience add their mite of witness. +The cruel to animals end in cruelty to man; and strange and violent +deaths, marked with retribution's bloody finger, have in all ages +fallen from heaven on such as wantonly harm innocent beasts. This +I myself have seen. All this duly weighed, and seeing that, despite +this Francesco's friends, the Stoics, who in their vanity say the creatures +all subsist for man's comfort, there be snakes and scorpions +which kill 'Dominum terræ' with a nip, musquitoes which eat him +piecemeal, and tigers and sharks, which crack him like an almond, +we do well to be grateful to these true, faithful, patient four-footed +friends, which, in lieu of powdering us, put forth their strength to +relieve our toils, and do feed us like mothers from their gentle dugs.</p> + +<p>"Methinks then the Church is never more divine than in this benediction +of our four-footed friends, which has revolted yon great +theological authority, the captain of the Pope's guards; since here +she inculcates humility and gratitude, and rises towards the level +of the mind divine, and interprets God to man, God the creator, +parent, and friend, of man and beast.</p> + +<p>"But all this, young Gentles you will please to receive, not as delivered +by the Pope ex cathedrâ, but uttered carelessly, in a free +hour, by an aged clergyman. On that score you will perhaps do +well to entertain it with some little consideration. For old age must<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467">[467]</a></span> +surely bring a man somewhat, in return for his digestion (his "dura +puerorum ilia," eh, Francesco), which it carries away."</p> + +<p>Such was the purport of the Pope's discourse; but the manner +high-bred, languid, kindly, and free from all tone of dictation. He +seemed to be gently probing the matter in concert with his hearers, +not playing Sir Oracle. At the bottom of all which was doubtless +a slight touch of humbug, but the humbug that embellishes life; and +all sense of it was lost in the subtle Italian grace of the thing.</p> + +<p>"I seem to hear the oracle of Delphi," said Fra Colonna, enthusiastically.</p> + +<p>"I call that good sense," shouted Jacques Bonaventura.</p> + +<p>"Oh, captain, good sense!" said Gerard, with a deep and tender +reproach.</p> + +<p>The Pope smiled on Gerard. "Cavil not at words; that was an +unheard-of concession from a rival theologian."</p> + +<p>He then asked for all Gerard's work, and took it away in his +hand. But, before going, he gently pulled Fra Colonna's ear, and +asked him whether he remembered when they were school-fellows together, +and robbed the Virgin by the roadside of the money dropped +into her box. "You took a flat stick and applied birdlime to the +top, and drew the money out through the chink, you rogue," said +his holiness, severely.</p> + +<p>"To every signor his own honour," replied Fra Colonna. "It was +your holiness's good wit invented the manœuvre. I was but the +humble instrument."</p> + +<p>"It is well. Doubtless you know 'twas sacrilege."</p> + +<p>"Of the first water: but I did it in such good company, it troubles +me not."</p> + +<p>"Humph! I have not even that poor consolation. What did we +spend it in, dost mind?"</p> + +<p>"Can your holiness ask? Why, sugar-plums."</p> + +<p>"What, all on't?"</p> + +<p>"Every doit."</p> + +<p>"These are delightful reminiscences, my Francesco. Alas! I am +getting old. I shall not be here long. And I am sorry for it, for +thy sake. They will go and burn thee when I am gone. Art far +more a heretic than Huss, whom I saw burned with these eyes; and +oh, he died like a martyr."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[468]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay, your holiness: but I believe in the Pope; and Huss did not."</p> + +<p>"Fox! They will not burn thee; wood is too dear. Adieu, old +playmate; adieu, young gentlemen; an old man's blessing be on +you."</p> + +<p>That afternoon the Pope's secretary brought Gerard a little bag: +in it were several gold pieces.</p> + +<p>He added them to his store.</p> + +<p>Margaret seemed nearer and nearer.</p> + +<p>For some time past, too, it appeared as if the fairies had watched +over him. Baskets of choice provisions and fruits were brought +to his door by porters, who knew not who had employed them, or +affected ignorance; and one day came a jewel in a letter, but no +words.</p> + +<p>At this point the suspicions of his landlady broke out. "This is +none of thy patrons, silly boy; this is some lady that hath fallen in +love with thy sweet face. Marry, I blame her not."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE Princess Clælia ordered a full-length portrait of herself. +Gerard advised her to employ his friend Pietro +Vanucci.</div> + +<p>But she declined. "'Twill be time to put a slight on the Gerardo, +when his work discontents me." Then Gerard, who knew he was +an excellent draughtsman, but not so good a colourist, begged her +to stand to him as a Roman statue. He showed her how closely he +could mimic marble on paper. She consented at first; but demurred +when this enthusiast explained to her that she must wear the tunic, +toga, and sandals of the ancients.</p> + +<p>"Why, I had as lieve be presented in my smock," said she, with +mediæval frankness.</p> + +<p>"Alack! signorina," said Gerard, "you have surely never noted the +ancient habit; so free, so ample, so simple, yet so noble; and most +becoming your highness, to whom Heaven hath given the Roman features, +and eke a shapely arm and hand, hid in modern guise."</p> + +<p>"What, can you flatter, like the rest, Gerardo? Well, give me +time to think on't. Come o' Saturday, and then I will say ay or +nay."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[469]</a></span></p> + +<p>The respite thus gained was passed in making the tunic and toga, +&c., and trying them on in her chamber, to see whether they suited +her style of beauty well enough to compensate their being a thousand +years out of date.</p> + +<p>Gerard, hurrying along to this interview, was suddenly arrested, +and rooted to earth at a shop window.</p> + +<p>His quick eye had discerned in that window a copy of Lactantius, +lying open. "That is fairly writ, any way," thought he.</p> + +<p>He eyed it a moment more with all his eyes.</p> + +<p>It was not written at all. It was printed.</p> + +<p>Gerard groaned. "I am sped; mine enemy is at the door. The +press is in Rome."</p> + +<p>He went into the shop, and, affecting nonchalance, inquired how +long the printing-press had been in Rome. The man said he believed +there was no such thing in the city. "Oh, the Lactantius; +that was printed on the top of the Apennines."</p> + +<p>"What, did the printing-press fall down there out o' the moon?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, messer," said the trader, laughing, "it shot up there out +of Germany. See the title-page!"</p> + +<p>Gerard took the Lactantius eagerly, and saw the following:—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +Operâ et impensis Sweynheim et Pannartz<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 4em;">Alumnorum Joannis Fust.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Impressum Subiacis. <span class="smcap">a.d.</span> 1465.</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Will ye buy, messer? See how fair and even be the letters. +Few are left can write like that; and scarce a quarter of the price."</p> + +<p>"I would fain have it," said Gerard, sadly; "but my heart will +not let me. Know that I am a caligraph, and these disciples of +Fust run after me round the world a-taking the bread out of my +mouth. But I wish them no ill. Heaven forbid!" And he +hurried from the shop.</p> + +<p>"Dear Margaret," said he to himself, "we must lose no time; +we must make our hay while shines the sun. One month more and +an avalanche of printer's type shall roll down on Rome from those +Apennines, and lay us waste that writers be."</p> + +<p>And he almost ran to the princess Clælia.</p> + +<p>He was ushered into an apartment new to him. It was not very +large, but most luxurious; a fountain played in the centre, and the +floor was covered with the skins of panthers, dressed with the hair,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[470]</a></span> +so that no footfall could be heard. The room was an antechamber +to the princess's boudoir, for on one side there was no door, but an +ample curtain of gorgeous tapestry.</p> + +<p>Here Gerard was left alone till he became quite uneasy, and +doubted whether the maid had not shown him to the wrong place.</p> + +<p>These doubts were agreeably dissipated.</p> + +<p>A light step came swiftly behind the curtain; it parted in the +middle, and there stood a figure the heathens might have worshipped. +It was not quite Venus, nor quite Minerva; but between the two; +nobler than Venus, more womanly than Jupiter's daughter. Toga, +tunic, sandals; nothing was modern. And as for beauty, that is of +all times.</p> + +<p>Gerard started up, and all the artist in him flushed with pleasure.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" he cried, innocently, and gazed in rapture.</p> + +<p>This added the last charm to his model: a light blush tinted her +cheeks, and her eyes brightened, and her mouth smiled with +delicious complacency at this genuine tribute to her charms.</p> + +<p>When they had looked at one another so some time, and she saw +Gerard's eloquence was confined to ejaculating and gazing, she spoke. +"Well, Gerardo, thou seest I have made myself an antique monster +for thee."</p> + +<p>"A monster? I doubt Fra Colonna would fall down and adore +your highness, seeing you so habited."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I care not to be adored by an old man. I would liever +be loved by a young one: of my own choosing."</p> + +<p>Gerard took out his pencils, arranged his canvas, which he had +covered with stout paper, and set to work; and so absorbed was he +that he had no mercy on his model. At last, after near an hour +in one posture, "Gerardo," said she, faintly, "I can stand so no +more, even for thee."</p> + +<p>"Sit down and rest awhile, signora."</p> + +<p>"I thank thee," said she; and sinking into a chair turned pale +and sighed.</p> + +<p>Gerard was alarmed, and saw also he had been inconsiderate. +He took water from the fountain and was about to throw it in her +face; but she put up a white hand deprecatingly: "Nay, hold it to +my brow with thine hand; prithee, do not fling it at me!"</p> + +<p>Gerard timidly and hesitating applied his wet hand to her brow.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" she sighed, "that is reviving. Again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[471]</a></span></p> + +<p>He applied it again. She thanked him, and asked him to ring a +little hand-bell on the table. He did so, and a maid came, and was +sent to Floretta with orders to bring a large fan.</p> + +<p>Floretta speedily came with the fan.</p> + +<p>She no sooner came near the princess, than that lady's high-bred +nostrils suddenly expanded like a blood horse's. "Wretch!" said +she; and rising up with a sudden return to vigour, seized Floretta +with her left hand, twisted it in her hair, and with the right hand +boxed her ears severely three times.</p> + +<p>Floretta screamed and blubbered; but obtained no mercy.</p> + +<p>The antique toga left quite disengaged a bare arm, that now +seemed as powerful as it was beautiful: it rose and fell like the +piston of a modern steam-engine, and heavy slaps resounded one +after another on Floretta's shoulders; the last one drove her sobbing +and screaming through the curtain, and there she was heard crying +bitterly for some time after.</p> + +<p>"Saints of heaven!" cried Gerard, "what is amiss? what hath +she done?"</p> + +<p>"She knows right well. 'Tis not the first time. The nasty +toad! I'll learn her to come to me stinking of the musk-cat."</p> + +<p>"Alas! signora, 'twas a small fault, methinks."</p> + +<p>"A small fault? Nay, 'twas a foul fault." She added with an +amazing sudden descent to humility and sweetness, "Are you wroth +with me for beating her, Gerar-do?"</p> + +<p>"Signora, it ill becomes me to school you; but methinks such as +Heaven appoints to govern others should govern themselves."</p> + +<p>"That is true, Gerardo. How wise you are, to be so young." +She then called the other maid, and gave her a little purse. "Take +that to Floretta, and tell her 'the Gerardo' hath interceded for +her; and so I must needs forgive her. There, Gerardo."</p> + +<p>Gerard coloured all over at the compliment; but not knowing +how to turn a phrase equal to the occasion, asked her if he should +resume her picture.</p> + +<p>"Not yet; beating that hussy hath somewhat breathed me. I'll +sit awhile, and you shall talk to me. I know you can talk, an it +pleases you, as rarely as you draw."</p> + +<p>"That were easily done."</p> + +<p>"Do it then, Gerardo."</p> + +<p>Gerard was taken aback.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472">[472]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But, signora, I know not what to say. This is sudden."</p> + +<p>"Say your real mind. Say you wish you were anywhere but +here."</p> + +<p>"Nay, signora, that would not be sooth. I wish one thing though."</p> + +<p>"Ay, and what is that?" said she, gently.</p> + +<p>"I wish I could have drawn you as you were beating that poor +lass. You were awful, yet lovely. Oh, what a subject for a +Pythoness!"</p> + +<p>"Alas! he thinks but of his art. And why keep such a coil about +my beauty, Gerardo? You are far fairer than I am. You are +more like Apollo than I to Venus. Also, you have lovely hair, and +lovely eyes—but you know not what to do with them."</p> + +<p>"Ay, do I. To draw you, signora."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes; you can see my features with them; but you cannot see +what any Roman gallant had seen long ago in your place. Yet sure +you must have noted how welcome you are to me, Gerardo?"</p> + +<p>"I can see your highness is always passing kind to me; a poor +stranger like me."</p> + +<p>"No, I am not, Gerardo. I have often been cold to you; rude +sometimes; and you are so simple you see not the cause. Alas! I +feared for my own heart. I feared to be your slave. I who have +hitherto made slaves. Ah! Gerardo, I am unhappy. Ever since +you came here I have lived upon your visits. The day you are to +come I am bright. The other days I am listless, and wish them +fled. You are not like the Roman gallants. You make me hate +them. You are ten times braver to my eye; and you are wise and +scholarly, and never flatter and lie. I scorn a man that lies. +Gerar-do; teach me thy magic; teach me to make thee as happy by +my side as I am still by thine."</p> + +<p>As she poured out these strange words, the princess's mellow +voice sunk almost to a whisper, and trembled with half-suppressed +passion, and her white hand stole timidly yet earnestly down +Gerard's arm, till it rested like a soft bird upon his wrist, and as +ready to fly away at a word.</p> + +<p>Destitute of vanity and experience, wrapped up in his Margaret +and his art, Gerard had not seen this revelation coming, though it +had come by regular and visible gradations.</p> + +<p>He blushed all over. His innocent admiration of the regal beauty<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[473]</a></span> +that besieged him, did not for a moment displace the absent +Margaret's image. Yet it was regal beauty, and wooing with a +grace and tenderness he had never even figured in imagination. +How to check her without wounding her?</p> + +<p>He blushed and trembled.</p> + +<p>The siren saw, and encouraged him. "Poor Gerardo," she murmured, +"fear not; none shall ever harm thee under my wing. Wilt +not speak to me, Gerar-do mio?"</p> + +<p>"Signora!" muttered Gerard, deprecatingly.</p> + +<p>At this moment his eye, lowered in his confusion, fell on the +shapely white arm and delicate hand that curled round his elbow +like a tender vine, and it flashed across him how he had just seen +that lovely limb employed on Floretta.</p> + +<p>He trembled and blushed.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" said the princess, "I scare him. Am I then so very +terrible? Is it my Roman robe? I'll doff it, and habit me as +when thou first camest to me. Mindest thou? 'Twas to write a +letter to yon barren knight Ecole d'Orsini. Shall I tell thee? 'twas +the sight of thee, and thy pretty ways, and thy wise words, made +me hate him on the instant. I liked the fool well enough before; or +wist I liked him. Tell me now how many times hast thou been here +since then. Ah! thou knowest not; lovest me not, I doubt, as I love +thee. Eighteen times, Gerardo. And each time dearer to me. +The day thou comest not 'tis night not day, to Clælia. Alas! I +speak for both. Cruel boy, am I not worth a word? Hast every +day a princess at thy feet? Nay, prithee, prithee, speak to me, +Gerar-do."</p> + +<p>"Signora," faltered Gerard, "what can I say, that were not better +left unsaid? Oh evil day that ever I came here."</p> + +<p>"Ah! say not so. 'Twas the brightest day ever shone on me; or +indeed on thee. I'll make thee confess so much ere long, ungrateful +one."</p> + +<p>"Your highness," began Gerard, in a low, pleading voice.</p> + +<p>"Call me Clælia, Gerar-do."</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 405px;"> +<img src="images/illus505.jpg" width="405" height="600" alt="THE SLIGHTED BEAUTY STARTED TO HER FEET" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE SLIGHTED BEAUTY STARTED TO HER FEET</span> +</div> +<p>"Signora, I am too young and too little wise to know how I ought +to speak to you, so as not to seem blind nor yet ungrateful. But +this I know, I were both naught and ungrateful, and the worst foe +e'er you had, did I take advantage of this mad fancy. Sure some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[474]</a></span> +ill spirit hath had leave to afflict you withal. For 'tis all unnatural +that a princess adorned with every grace should abase her affections +on a churl."</p> + +<p>The princess withdrew her hand slowly from Gerard's wrist.</p> + +<p>Yet as it passed lightly over his arm it seemed to linger a moment +at parting.</p> + +<p>"You fear the daggers of my kinsmen," said she, half sadly, half +contemptuously.</p> + +<p>"No more than I fear the bodkins of your women," said Gerard, +haughtily. "But I fear God and the saints, and my own conscience."</p> + +<p>"The truth, Gerardo, the truth! Hypocrisy sits awkwardly on +thee. Princesses, while they are young, are not despised for love +of God, but of some other woman. Tell me whom thou lovest: +and if she is worthy thee I will forgive thee."</p> + +<p>"No she in Italy, upon my soul."</p> + +<p>"Ah! there is one somewhere, then. Where? where?"</p> + +<p>"In Holland, my native country."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Marie de Bourgoyne is fair, they say. Yet she is but a +child."</p> + +<p>"Princess, she I love is not noble. She is as I am. Nor is she +so fair as thou. Yet is she fair; and linked to my heart for ever +by her virtues, and by all the dangers and griefs we have borne together, +and for one another. Forgive me; but I would not wrong +my Margaret for all the highest dames in Italy."</p> + +<p>The slighted beauty started to her feet, and stood opposite him, +as beautiful, but far more terrible than when she slapped Floretta, +for then her cheeks were red, but now they were pale, and her eyes +full of concentrated fury.</p> + +<p>"This to my face, unmannered wretch," she cried. "Was I born +to be insulted, as well as scorned, by such as thou? Beware! We +nobles brook no rivals. Bethink thee whether is better, the love +of a Cesarini, or her hate: for after all I have said and done to thee, +it must be love or hate between us and to the death. Choose now!"</p> + +<p>He looked up at her with wonder and awe, as she stood towering +over him in her Roman toga, offering this strange alternative.</p> + +<p>He seemed to have affronted a goddess of antiquity; he a poor +puny mortal.</p> + +<p>He sighed deeply, but spoke not.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[475]</a></span></p> + +<p>Perhaps something in his deep and patient sigh touched a tender +chord in that ungoverned creature; or perhaps the time had come +for one passion to ebb and another to flow. The princess sank +languidly into a seat, and the tears began to steal rapidly down her +cheeks.</p> + +<p>"Alas! alas!" said Gerard. "Weep not, sweet lady; your tears +they do accuse me, and I am like to weep for company. My kind +patron; be yourself! you will live to see how much better a friend +I was to you than I seemed."</p> + +<p>"I see it now, Gerardo," said the princess. "Friend is the word: +the only word can ever pass between us twain. I was mad. Any +other man had ta'en advantage of my folly. You must teach me +to be your friend and nothing more."</p> + +<p>Gerard hailed this proposition with joy; and told her out of +Cicero how godlike a thing was friendship, and how much better +and rarer and more lasting than love: to prove to her he was capable +of it, he even told her about Denys and himself.</p> + +<p>She listened with her eyes half shut, watching his words to +fathom his character, and learn his weak point.</p> + +<p>At last, she addressed him calmly thus: "Leave me now, Gerardo; +and come as usual to-morrow. You will find your lesson well bestowed." +She held out her hand to him: he kissed it; and went +away pondering deeply this strange interview, and wondering +whether he had done prudently or not.</p> + +<p>The next day he was received with marked distance, and the +princess stood before him literally like a statue, and after a very +short sitting, excused herself and dismissed him. Gerard felt the +chilling difference: but said to himself, "She is wise." So she was +in her way.</p> + +<p>The next day, he found the princess waiting for him surrounded +by young nobles flattering her to the skies. She and they treated +him like a dog that could do one little trick they could not. The +cavaliers in particular criticised his work with a mass of ignorance +and insolence combined that made his cheeks burn.</p> + +<p>The princess watched his face demurely with half-closed +eyes, at each sting the insects gave him: and, when they had fled, +had her doors closed against every one of them for their +pains.</p> + +<p>The next day Gerard found her alone: cold, and silent. After<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[476]</a></span> +standing to him so some time, she said, "You treated my company +with less respect than became you."</p> + +<p>"Did I, signora?"</p> + +<p>"Did you? you fired up at the comments they did you the honour +to make on your work."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I said nought," observed Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Oh, high looks speak as plain as high words. Your cheeks were +red as blood."</p> + +<p>"I was nettled a moment at seeing so much ignorance and ill-nature +together."</p> + +<p>"Now it is me, their hostess, you affront."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, signora, and acquit me of design. It would ill +become me to affront the kindest patron and friend I have in +Rome—but one."</p> + +<p>"How humble we are all of a sudden. In sooth, Ser Gerardo, +you are a capital feigner. You can insult or truckle at will."</p> + +<p>"Truckle? to whom?"</p> + +<p>"To me, for one; to one, whom you affronted for a base-born girl +like yourself: but whose patronage you claim all the same."</p> + +<p>Gerard rose, and put his hand to his heart. "These are biting +words, signora. Have I really deserved them?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, what are words to an adventurer like you? cold steel is all +you fear."</p> + +<p>"I am no swashbuckler, yet I have met steel with steel: and methinks +I had rather face your kinsmen's swords than your cruel +tongue, lady. Why do you use me so?"</p> + +<p>"Gerar-do, for no good reason, but because I am wayward, and +shrewish, and curst, and because everybody admires me but you."</p> + +<p>"I admire you too, signora. Your friends may flatter you more; +but believe me they have not the eye to see half your charms. Their +babble yesterday showed me that. None admire you more truly, +or wish you better, than the poor artist, who might not be your +lover, but hoped to be your friend: but no, I see that may not be +between one so high as you, and one so low as I."</p> + +<p>"Ay! but it shall, Gerardo," said the princess, eagerly. "I will +not be so curst. Tell me now where abides thy Margaret; and I +will give thee a present for her; and on that you and I will be +friends."</p> + +<p>"She is the daughter of a physician called Peter, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[477]</a></span> +they bide at Sevenbergen; ah me shall I e'er see it again?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis well. Now go." And she dismissed him somewhat abruptly.</p> + +<p>Poor Gerard. He began to wade in deep waters when he encountered +this Italian princess; callida et calida solis filia. He +resolved to go no more when once he had finished her likeness. Indeed +he now regretted having undertaken so long and laborious a +task.</p> + +<p>This resolution was shaken for a moment by his next reception, +which was all gentleness and kindness.</p> + +<p>After standing to him some time in her toga, she said she was +fatigued, and wanted his assistance in another way: would he teach +her to draw a little? He sat down beside her, and taught her to +make easy lines. He found her wonderfully apt. He said so.</p> + +<p>"I had a teacher before thee, Gerar-do. Ay, and one as handsome +as thyself." She then went to a drawer, and brought out +several heads drawn with a complete ignorance of the art, but with +great patience and natural talent. They were all heads of Gerard, +and full of spirit: and really not unlike. One was his very image.</p> + +<p>"There," said she. "Now thou seest who was my teacher."</p> + +<p>"Not I, signora."</p> + +<p>"What, know you not who teaches us women to do all things? +'Tis love, Gerar-do. Love made me draw because thou drawest, +Gerar-do. Love prints thine image in my bosom. My fingers +touch the pen, and love supplies the want of art, and lo! thy beloved +features lie upon the paper."</p> + +<p>Gerard opened his eyes with astonishment at this return to an +interdicted topic. "Oh, signora, you promised me to be friends +and nothing more."</p> + +<p>She laughed in his face. "How simple you are; who believes a +woman promising nonsense, impossibilities? Friendship, foolish +boy, who ever built that temple on red ashes? Nay, Gerardo," she +added gloomily, "between thee and me it must be love or hate."</p> + +<p>"Which you will, signora," said Gerard, firmly. "But for me I +will neither love nor hate you; but with your permission I will +leave you." And he rose abruptly.</p> + +<p>She rose too pale as death, and said, "Ere thou leavest me so, +know thy fate; outside that door are armed men who wait to slay +thee at a word from me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[478]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But you will not speak that word, signora."</p> + +<p>"That word I will speak. Nay, more, I shall noise it abroad +it was for proffering brutal love to me thou wert slain; and I will +send a special messenger to Sevenbergen: a cunning messenger, +well taught his lesson. Thy Margaret shall know thee dead, and +think thee faithless; now, go to thy grave; a dog's. For a man +thou art not."</p> + +<p>Gerard turned pale, and stood dumbstricken. "God have mercy +on us both."</p> + +<p>"Nay, have thou mercy on her, and on thyself. She will never +know in Holland what thou dost in Rome; unless I be driven to +tell her my tale. Come, yield thee, Gerar-do mio: what will it +cost thee to say thou lovest me? I ask thee but to feign it handsomely. +Thou art young: die not for the poor pleasure of denying +a lady what—the shadow of a heart. Who will shed a tear for +thee? I tell thee men will laugh, not weep, over thy tombstone—ah!" +She ended in a little scream, for Gerard threw himself in a +moment at her feet, and poured out in one torrent of eloquence the +story of his love and Margaret's. How he had been imprisoned, +hunted with bloodhounds for her, driven to exile for her; how she +had shed her blood for him, and now pined at home. How he had +walked through Europe, environed by perils, torn by savage brutes, +attacked by furious men, with sword and axe and trap, robbed, +shipwrecked for her.</p> + +<p>The princess trembled, and tried to get away from him: but he +held her robe, he clung to her, he made her hear his pitiful story and +Margaret's; he caught her hand, and clasped it between both his, +and his tears fell fast on her hand, as he implored her to think on +all the woes of the true lovers she would part; and what but remorse, +swift and lasting, could come of so deep a love betrayed, +and so false a love feigned, with mutual hatred lurking at the bottom.</p> + +<p>In such moments none ever resisted Gerard.</p> + +<p>The princess, after in vain trying to get away from him, for she +felt his power over her, began to waver, and sigh, and her bosom to +rise and fall tumultuously, and her fiery eyes to fill.</p> + +<p>"You conquer me," she sobbed. "You, or my better angel. +Leave Rome!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479">[479]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I will, I will."</p> + +<p>"If you breath a word of my folly, it will be your last."</p> + +<p>"Think not so poorly of me. You are my benefactress once +more. Is it for me to slander you?"</p> + +<p>"Go! I will send you the means. I know myself; if you cross +my path again, I shall kill you. Addio; my heart is broken."</p> + +<p>She touched her bell. "Floretta," she said, in a choked voice, +"take him safe out of the house through my chamber and by the +side poster."</p> + +<p>He turned at the door; she was leaning with one hand on a +chair, crying, with averted head. Then he thought only of her +kindness, and ran back and kissed her robe. She never moved.</p> + +<p>Once clear of the house he darted home, thanking Heaven for +his escape, soul and body.</p> + +<p>"Landlady," said he, "there is one would pick a quarrel with +me. What is to be done?"</p> + +<p>"Strike him first, and at vantage! Get behind him; and then +draw."</p> + +<p>"Alas, I lack your Italian courage. To be serious, 'tis a noble."</p> + +<p>"Oh, holy saints, that is another matter. Change thy lodging +awhile, and keep snug; and alter the fashion of thy habits."</p> + +<p>She then took him to her own niece, who let lodgings at some +little distance, and installed him there.</p> + +<p>He had little to do now, and no princess to draw, so he set himself +resolutely to read that deed of Floris Brandt, from which he +had hitherto been driven by the abominably bad writing. He +mastered it, and saw at once that the loan on this land must have +been paid over and over again by the rents, and that Ghysbrecht +was keeping Peter Brandt out of his own.</p> + +<p>"Fool! not to have read this before," he cried. He hired a horse +and rode down to the nearest port. A vessel was to sail for Amsterdam +in four days.</p> + +<p>He took a passage; and paid a small sum to secure it.</p> + +<p>"The land is too full of cut-throats for me," said he; "and 'tis +lovely fair weather for the sea. Our Dutch skippers are not shipwrecked +like these bungling Italians."</p> + +<p>When he returned home there sat his old landlady with her eyes +sparkling.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[480]</a></span></p> + +<p>"You are in luck, my young master," said she. "All the fish +run to your net this day methinks. See what a lacquey hath +brought to our house! This bill and this bag."</p> + +<p>Gerard broke the seals, and found it full of silver crowns. The +letter contained a mere slip of paper with this line, cut out of some +MS.—"La lingua non ha osso, ma fa rompere il dosso."</p> + +<p>"Fear me not!" said Gerard, aloud. "I'll keep mine between +my teeth."</p> + +<p>"What is that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, nothing. Am I not happy, dame? I am going back to +my sweetheart with money in one pocket, and land in the other." +And he fell to dancing around her.</p> + +<p>"Well," said she, "I trow nothing could make you happier."</p> + +<p>"Nothing, except to be there."</p> + +<p>"Well, that is a pity, for I thought to make you a little happier +with a letter from Holland."</p> + +<p>"A letter? for me? where? how? who brought it? Oh, dame!"</p> + +<p>"A stranger; a painter, with a reddish face and an outlandish +name; Anselmin, I trow."</p> + +<p>"Hans Memling? a friend of mine. God bless him!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, that is it; Anselmin. He could scarce speak a word, but +a had the wit to name thee: and a puts the letter down, and a nods +and smiles, and I nods and smiles, and gives him a pint o'wine, +and it went down him like a spoonful."</p> + +<p>"That is Hans, honest Hans. Oh, dame, I am in luck to-day: +but I deserve it. For, I care not if I tell you, I have just overcome +a great temptation for dear Margaret's sake."</p> + +<p>"Who is she?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I'd have my tongue cut out sooner than betray her, but +oh it <i>was</i> a temptation. Gratitude pushing me wrong, Beauty +almost divine pulling me wrong: curses, reproaches, and, hardest +of all to resist, gentle tears from eyes used to command. Sure +some saint helped me; Anthony belike. But my reward is come."</p> + +<p>"Ay, is it, lad; and no farther off than my pocket. Come out, +Gerard's reward," and she brought a letter out of her capacious +pocket.</p> + +<p>Gerard threw his arm around her neck and hugged her. "My +best friend," said he, "my second mother, I'll read it to you."</p> + +<p>"Ay, do, do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[481]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Alas! it is not from Margaret. This is not her hand." And +he turned it about.</p> + +<p>"Alack; but may be her bill is within. The lasses are aye for +gliding in their bills under cover of another hand."</p> + +<p>"True. Whose hand is this? sure I have seen it. I trow +'tis my dear friend the demoiselle VanEyck. Oh, then Margaret's +bill <i>will</i> be inside." He tore it open. "Nay, 'tis all in one writing. +'Gerard, my well beloved son,' (she never called me that before that +I mind) 'this letter brings thee heavy news from one would liever +send thee joyful tidings. Know that Margaret Brandt died in these +arms on Thursday sennight last.' (What does the doting old +woman mean by that?) 'The last word on her lips was "Gerard:" +she said "Tell him I prayed for him at my last hour: and bid +him pray for me." She died very comfortable, and I saw her +laid in the earth, for her father was useless, as you shall know. +So no more at present from her that is with sorrowing heart thy +loving friend and servant,</p> + +<div class='center'> +'<span class="smcap">Margaret VanEyck</span>.'<br /> +</div> + +<p>"Ay, that is her signature sure enough. Now what d'ye think +of that, dame?" cried Gerard, with a grating laugh. "There is a +pretty letter to send to a poor fellow so far from home. But it is +Reicht Heynes I blame for humouring the old woman and letting +her do it; as for the old woman herself, she dotes, she has lost her +head, she is fourscore. Oh, my heart, I'm choking. For all that +she ought to be locked up, or her hands tied. Say this had come to +a fool; say I was idiot enough to believe this; know ye what I should +do? run to the top of the highest church tower in Rome and fling +myself off it, cursing Heaven. Woman! woman! what are you +doing?" And he seized her rudely by the shoulder. "What are +ye weeping for?" he cried in a voice all unlike his own, and loud +and hoarse as a raven. "Would ye scald me to death with your +tears? She believes it. She believes it. Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! +ah!—Then there is no God."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The poor woman sighed and rocked herself. "And must I be +the one to bring it thee all smiling and smirking? I could kill +myself for't. Death spares none," she sobbed. "Death spares +none."</p> + +<p>Gerard staggered against the window sill. "But He is master +of death," he groaned. "Or they have taught me a lie. I begin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[482]</a></span> +to fear there is no God, and the saints are but dead bones, and hell +is master of the world. My pretty Margaret; my sweet, my loving +Margaret. The best daughter, the truest lover! the pride of Holland! +the darling of the world! It is a lie. Where is this caitiff +Hans? I'll hunt him round the town. I'll cram his murdering +falsehood down his throat."</p> + +<p>And he seized his hat and ran furiously about the streets for +hours.</p> + +<p>Towards sunset he came back white as a ghost. He had not +found Memling: but his poor mind had had time to realize the +woman's simple words, that Death spares none.</p> + +<p>He crept into the house bent, and feeble as an old man, and refused +all food. Nor would he speak, but sat, white, with great +staring eyes, muttering at intervals "there is no God."</p> + +<p>Alarmed both on his account and on her own (for he looked a +desperate maniac), his landlady ran for her aunt.</p> + +<p>The good dame came, and the two women, braver together, sat +one on each side of him, and tried to soothe him with kind and consoling +voices. But he heeded them no more than the chairs they sat +on. Then the younger held a crucifix out before him, to aid her. +"Maria, mother of heaven, comfort him," they sighed. But he +sat glaring, deaf to all external sounds.</p> + +<p>Presently, without any warning, he jumped up, struck the crucifix +rudely out of his way with a curse and made a headlong dash +at the door. The poor women shrieked. But, ere he reached the +door, something seemed to them to draw him up straight by his hair, +and twirl him round like a top. He whirled twice around with arms +extended; then fell like a dead log upon the floor, with blood trickling +from his nostrils and ears.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>GERARD returned to consciousness and to despair.</div> + +<p>On the second day he was raving with fever on the +brain. On a table hard by lay his rich auburn hair, +long as a woman's.</p> + +<p>The deadlier symptoms succeeded one another rapidly.</p> + +<p>On the fifth day his leech retired and gave him up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[483]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the sunset of that same day he fell into a deep sleep.</p> + +<p>Some said he would wake only to die.</p> + +<p>But an old gossip, whose opinion carried weight (she had been a +professional nurse), declared that his youth might save him yet +could he sleep twelve hours.</p> + +<p>On this his old landlady cleared the room and watched him alone. +She vowed a wax candle to the Virgin for every hour he should sleep.</p> + +<p>He slept twelve hours.</p> + +<p>The good soul rejoiced, and thanked the Virgin on her knees.</p> + +<p>He slept twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>His kind nurse began to doubt. At the thirtieth hour she sent +for the woman of art. "Thirty hours! shall we wake him?"</p> + +<p>The other inspected him closely for some time.</p> + +<p>"His breath is even, his hand moist. I know there be learned +leeches would wake him, to look at his tongue, and be none the +wiser; but we that be women should have the sense to let bon Nature +alone. When did sleep ever harm the racked brain or the torn +heart?"</p> + +<p>When he had been forty-eight hours asleep, it got wind, and they +had much ado to keep the curious out. But they admitted only +Fra Colonna and his friend the gigantic Fra Jerome.</p> + +<p>These two relieved the women, and sat silent; the former eyeing +his young friend with tears in his eyes, the latter with beads +in his hand looked as calmly on him, as he had on the sea when +Gerard and he encountered it hand to hand.</p> + +<p>At last, I think it was about the sixtieth hour of this strange +sleep, the landlady touched Fra Colonna with her elbow. He looked. +Gerard had opened his eyes as gently as if he had been but dozing.</p> + +<p>He stared.</p> + +<p>He drew himself up a little in bed.</p> + +<p>He put his hand to his head, and found his hair was gone.</p> + +<p>He noticed his friend Colonna, and smiled with pleasure. But +in the middle of smiling his face stopped, and was convulsed in a +moment with anguish unspeakable, and he uttered a loud cry, and +turned his face to the wall.</p> + +<p>His good landlady wept at this. She had known what it is to +awake bereaved.</p> + +<p>Fra Jerome recited canticles, and prayers from his breviary.</p> + +<p>Gerard rolled himself in the bed-clothes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[484]</a></span></p> + +<p>Fra Colonna went to him, and, whimpering, reminded him that all +was not lost. The divine muses were immortal. He must transfer +his affection to them; they would never betray him nor fail him like +creatures of clay. The good, simple father then hurried away; for +he was overcome by his emotion.</p> + +<p>Fra Jerome remained behind. "Young man," said he, "the +Muses exist but in the brains of pagans and visionaries. The +Church alone gives repose to the heart on earth, and happiness to +the soul hereafter. Hath earth deceived thee, hath passion broken +thy heart after tearing it, the Church opens her arms: consecrate +thy gifts to her! The Church is peace of mind."</p> + +<p>He spoke these words solemnly at the door, and was gone as soon +as they were uttered.</p> + +<p>"The Church!" cried Gerard, rising furiously and shaking his +fist after the friar. "Malediction on the Church! But for the +Church I should not lie broken here, and she lie cold, cold, cold, +in Holland. O my Margaret! O my darling! my darling! And +I must run from thee the few months thou hadst to live. Cruel! +cruel! The monsters, they let her die. Death comes not without +some signs. These the blind, selfish wretches saw not, or recked not; +but I had seen them, I that love her. Oh, had I been there, I had +saved her, I had saved her. Idiot! idiot! to leave her for a moment."</p> + +<p>He wept bitterly a long time.</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly bursting into rage again, he cried vehemently, +"The Church! for whose sake I was driven from her; my malison be +on the Church! and the hypocrites that name it to my broken heart. +Accursed be the world! Ghysbrecht lives; Margaret dies. Thieves, +murderers, harlots, live for ever. Only angels die. Curse life! +Curse death! and whosoever made them what they are!"</p> + +<p>The friar did not hear these mad and wicked words; but only +the yell of rage with which they were flung after him.</p> + +<p>It was as well. For, if he had heard them, he would have had his +late shipmate burned in the forum with as little hesitation as he +would have roasted a kid.</p> + +<p>His old landlady, who had accompanied Fra Colonna down the +stair, heard the raised voice, and returned in some anxiety.</p> + +<p>She found Gerard putting on his clothes, and crying.</p> + +<p>She remonstrated.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[485]</a></span></p> + +<p>"What avails my lying here?" said he gloomily. "Can I find +here that which I seek?"</p> + +<p>"Saints preserve us! Is he distraught again? What seek ye?"</p> + +<p>"Oblivion."</p> + +<p>"Oblivion, my little heart? Oh, but y' are young to talk +so."</p> + +<p>"Young or old, what else have I to live for?"</p> + +<p>He put on his best clothes.</p> + +<p>The good dame remonstrated. "My pretty Gerard, know that it +is Tuesday, not Sunday."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Tuesday is it? I thought it had been Saturday."</p> + +<p>"Nay, thou has slept long. Thou never wearest thy brave clothes +on working days. Consider."</p> + +<p>"What I did, when she lived, I did. Now I shall do whatever erst +I did not. The past is the past. There lies my hair, and with it +my way of life. I have served one Master as well as I could. You +see my reward. Now I'll serve another, and give him a fair trial +too."</p> + +<p>"Alas!" sighed the woman, turning pale, "what mean these dark +words? and what new master is this whose service thou wouldst +try?"</p> + +<p>"SATAN."</p> + +<p>And with this horrible declaration on his lips the miserable creature +walked out with his cap and feather set jauntily on one side, +and feeble limbs, and a sinister face pale as ashes, and all drawn +down as if by age.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>A DARK cloud fell on a noble mind.</div> + +<p>His pure and unrivalled love for Margaret had been his +polar star. It was quenched, and he drifted on the gloomy +sea of no hope.</p> + +<p>Nor was he a prey to despair alone, but to exasperation at all his +self-denial, fortitude, perils, virtue, wasted and worse than wasted; +for it kept burning and stinging him, that, had he stayed lazily, selfishly, +at home, he should have saved his Margaret's life.</p> + +<p>These two poisons, raging together in his young blood, maddened<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[486]</a></span> +and demoralized him. He rushed fiercely into pleasure. And in +those days, even more than now, pleasure was vice.</p> + +<p>Wine, women, gambling, whatever could procure him an hour's +excitement and a moment's oblivion. He plunged into these things, +as men tired of life have rushed among the enemy's bullets.</p> + +<p>The large sums he had put by for Margaret gave him ample means +for debauchery, and he was soon the leader of those loose companions +he had hitherto kept at a distance.</p> + +<p>His heart deteriorated along with his morals.</p> + +<p>He sulked with his old landlady for thrusting gentle advice and +warning on him; and finally removed to another part of the town, to +be clear of remonstrance, and reminiscences. When he had carried +this game on some time, his hand became less steady, and he could +no longer write to satisfy himself. Moreover his patience declined +as the habits of pleasure grew on him. So he gave up that art, +and took likenesses in colours.</p> + +<p>But this he neglected whenever the idle rakes, his companions, +came for him.</p> + +<p>And so he dived in foul waters, seeking that sorry oyster-shell, +Oblivion.</p> + +<p>It is not my business to paint at full length the scenes of coarse +vice, in which this unhappy young man now played a part. But +it is my business to impress the broad truth, that he was a rake, a +debauchee, and a drunkard, and one of the wildest, loosest, and wickedest +young men in Rome.</p> + +<p>They are no lovers of truth, nor of mankind, who conceal or slur +the wickedness of the good, and so by their want of candour rob despondent +sinners of hope.</p> + +<p>Enough, the man was not born to do things by halves. And he +was not vicious by halves.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>His humble female friends often gossiped about him. His old +landlady told Teresa he was going to the bad, and prayed her to try +and find out where he was.</p> + +<p>Teresa told her husband Lodovico his sad story, and bade him look +about and see if he could discover the young man's present abode. +"Shouldst remember his face, Lodovico mio?"</p> + +<p>"Teresa, a man in my way of life never forgets a face, least of all +a benefactor's. But thou knowest I seldom go abroad by daylight."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[487]</a></span></p> + +<p>Teresa sighed. "And how long is it to be so, Lodovico?"</p> + +<p>"Till some cavalier passes his sword through me. They will not +let a poor fellow like me take to any honest trade."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Pietro Vanucci was one of those who bear prosperity worse than +adversity.</p> + +<p>Having been ignominiously ejected for late hours by their old +landlady, and meeting Gerard in the street, he greeted him warmly +and soon after took up his quarters in the same house.</p> + +<p>He brought with him a lad called Andrea, who ground his colours, +and was his pupil, and also his model, being a youth of rare +beauty, and as sharp as a needle.</p> + +<p>Pietro had not quite forgotten old times, and professed a warm +friendship for Gerard.</p> + +<p>Gerard, in whom all warmth of sentiment seemed extinct, submitted +coldly to the other's friendship.</p> + +<p>And a fine acquaintance it was. This Pietro was not only a +libertine, but half a misanthrope, and an open infidel.</p> + +<p>And so they ran in couples, with mighty little in common. O +rare phenomenon!</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>One day, when Gerard had undermined his health, and taken the +bloom off his beauty, and run through most of his money, Vanucci +got up a gay party to mount the Tiber in a boat drawn by buffaloes. +Lorenzo de' Medici had imported these creatures into Florence about +three years before. But they were new in Rome, and nothing would +content this beggar on horseback, Vanucci, but being drawn by the +brutes up the Tiber.</p> + +<p>Each libertine was to bring a lady; and she must be handsome, or +he be fined. But the one, that should contribute the loveliest, was to +be crowned with laurel, and voted a public benefactor. Such was +their reading of "Vir bonus est quis?" They got a splendid galley, +and twelve buffaloes. And all the libertines and their female accomplices +assembled by degrees at the place of embarkation. But no +Gerard.</p> + +<p>They waited for him some time, at first patiently, then impatiently.</p> + +<p>Vanucci excused him. "I heard him say he had forgotten to +provide himself with a fardingale. Comrades, the good lad is hunting<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[488]</a></span> +for a beauty fit to take rank among these peerless dames. Consider +the difficulty, ladies, and be patient!"</p> + +<p>At last Gerard was seen at some distance with a female in his +hand.</p> + +<p>"She is long enough," said one of her sex; criticizing her from +afar.</p> + +<p>"Gemini! what step she takes," said another; "Oh! it is wise +to hurry into good company," was Pietro's excuse.</p> + +<p>But when the pair came up, satire was choked.</p> + +<p>Gerard's companion was a peerless beauty; she extinguished the +boat-load, as stars the rising sun. Tall, but not too tall; and straight +as a dart, yet supple as a young panther. Her face a perfect oval, +her forehead white, her cheeks a rich olive with the eloquent blood +mantling below; and her glorious eyes fringed with long thick silken +eyelashes, that seemed made to sweep up sensitive hearts by the half-dozen. +Saucy red lips, and teeth of the whitest ivory.</p> + +<p>The women were visibly depressed by this wretched sight; the +men in ecstasies; they received her with loud shouts and waving of +caps, and one enthusiast even went down on his knees upon the boat's +gunwale, and hailed her of origin divine. But his chère amie pulling +his hair for it—and the goddess giving him a little kick—cotemporaneously, +he lay supine: and the peerless creature frisked over his +body without deigning him a look, and took her seat at the prow. +Pietro Vanucci sat in a sort of collapse, glaring at her, and gaping +with his mouth open like a dying cod-fish.</p> + +<p>The drover spoke to the buffaloes, the ropes tightened, and they +moved up stream.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"What think ye of this new beef, mesdames?"</p> + +<p>"We ne'er saw monsters so vilely ill-favoured; with their nasty +horns that make one afeard, and their foul nostrils cast up into the +air. Holes be they; not nostrils."</p> + +<p>"Signorina, the beeves are a present from Florence the beautiful. +Would ye look a gift beef i' the nose?"</p> + +<p>"They are so dull," objected a lively lady. "I went up Tiber +twice as fast last time with but five mules and an ass."</p> + +<p>"Nay, that is soon mended," cried a gallant, and jumping ashore +he drew his sword, and despite the remonstrances of the drivers, +went down the dozen buffaloes goading them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489">[489]</a></span></p> + +<p>They snorted and whisked their tails and went no faster, at which +the boat-load laughed loud and long; finally he goaded a patriarch +bull, who turned instantly on the sword, sent his long horns clean +through the spark, and with a furious jerk of his prodigious neck +sent him flying over his head into the air. He described a bold +parabola and fell sitting, and unconsciously waving his glittering +blade, into the yellow Tiber. The laughing ladies screamed and +wrung their hands, all but Gerard's fair. She uttered something +very like an oath, and seizing the helm steered the boat out, and +the gallant came up sputtering, gripped the gunwale, and was drawn +in dripping.</p> + +<p>He glared round him confusedly. "I understand not that," said +he a little peevishly; puzzled, and therefore it would seem, discontented. +At which, finding he was by some strange accident not +slain, his doublet being perforated, instead of his body, they began +to laugh again louder than ever.</p> + +<p>"What are ye cackling at?" remonstrated the spark. "I desire +to know how 'tis that one moment a gentleman is out yonder a +pricking of African beef, and the next moment—"</p> + +<p><i>Gerard's lady.</i>] "Disporting in his native stream."</p> + +<p>"Tell him not, a soul of ye," cried Vanucci. "Let him find out 's +own riddle."</p> + +<p>"Confound ye all. I might puzzle my brains till doomsday, I +should ne'er find it out. Also, where is my sword?"</p> + +<p><i>Gerard's lady.</i>] "Ask Tiber! Your best way, signor, will be to +do it over again: and, in a word, keep pricking of Afric's beef, till +your mind receives light. So shall you comprehend the matter by +degrees as lawyers mount heaven, and buffaloes Tiber."</p> + +<p>Here a chevalier remarked that the last speaker transcended the +sons of Adam as much in wit as she did the daughters of Eve in +beauty.</p> + +<p>At which, and indeed at all their compliments, the conduct of +Pietro Vanucci was peculiar. That signor had left off staring, and +gaping bewildered: and now sat coiled up snakelike, on a bench, his +mouth muffled, and two bright eyes fixed on the lady, and twinkling +and scintillating most comically.</p> + +<p>He did not appear to interest or amuse her in return. Her glorious +eyes and eyelashes swept him calmly at times, but scarce distinguished +him from the benches and things.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[490]</a></span></p> + +<p>Presently the unanimity of the party suffered a momentary check.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/illus523.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt=""AHA! LADIES," SAID SHE, "HERE IS A RIVAL AN YE WILL"" title="" /> +<span class="caption">"AHA! LADIES," SAID SHE, "HERE IS A RIVAL AN YE WILL"</span> +</div> + +<p>Mortified by the attention the cavaliers paid to Gerard's companion, +the ladies began to pick her to pieces sotto voce, and audibly.</p> + +<p>The lovely girl then showed that, if rich in beauty, she was poor +in feminine tact. Instead of revenging herself like a true woman +through the men, she permitted herself to overhear, and openly retaliate +on her detractors.</p> + +<p>"There is not one of you that wears Nature's colours," said she. +"Look here," and she pointed rudely in one's face. "This is the +beauty that is to be bought in every shop. Here is cerussa, here +is stibium, and here purpurissum. Oh I know the articles: bless +you, I use them every day—but not on my face, no thank you."</p> + +<p>Here Vanucci's eyes twinkled themselves nearly out of sight.</p> + +<p>"Why your lips are coloured, and the very veins in your forehead: +not a charm but would come off with a wet towel. And look at your +great coarse black hair like a horse's tail, drugged and stained to look +like tow. And then your bodies are as false as your heads and your +cheeks, and your hearts I trow. Look at your padded bosoms, and +your wooden heeled chopines to raise your little stunted limbs up and +deceive the world. Skinny dwarfs ye are, cushioned and stiltified +into great fat giants. Aha, mesdames, well is it said of you, grande—di +legni: grosse—di straci: rosse—di bettito: bianche—di calcina."</p> + +<p>This drew out a rejoinder. "Avaunt, vulgar toad, telling the men +everything. Your coarse, ruddy cheeks are your own, and your little +handful of African hair. But who is padded more? Why you +are shaped like a fireshovel."</p> + +<p>"Ye lie, malapert."</p> + +<p>"Oh the well educated young person! Where didst pick her up, +Ser Gerard?"</p> + +<p>"Hold thy peace, Marcia," said Gerard, awakened by the raised +trebles from a gloomy reverie. "Be not so insolent! The grave +shall close over thy beauty as it hath over fairer than thee."</p> + +<p>"They began," said Marcia petulantly.</p> + +<p>"Then be thou the first to leave off."</p> + +<p>"At thy request, my friend." She then whispered Gerard, "It +was only to make you laugh: you are distraught, you are sad. Judge +whether I care for the quips of these little fools, or the admiration +of these big fools. Dear Signor Gerard, would I were what they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[491]</a></span> +take me for? You should not be so sad." Gerard sighed deeply; +and shook his head. But, touched by the earnest young tones, caressed +the jet black locks, much as one strokes the head of an affectionate +dog.</p> + +<p>At this moment a galley drifting slowly down stream got entangled +for an instant in their ropes: for, the river turning suddenly, +they had shot out into the stream: and this galley came between +them and the bank. In it a lady of great beauty was seated under +a canopy with gallants and dependents standing behind her.</p> + +<p>Gerard looked up at the interruption. It was the princess Clælia.</p> + +<p>He coloured and withdrew his hand from Marcia's head.</p> + +<p>Marcia was all admiration. "Aha! ladies," said she, "here is a +rival an' ye will. Those cheeks were coloured by Nature—like +mine."</p> + +<p>"Peace, child! peace!" said Gerard. "Make not too free with the +great."</p> + +<p>"Why, she heard me not. Oh, Ser Gerard, what a lovely creature!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Two of the females had been for some time past putting their +heads together and casting glances at Marcia.</p> + +<p>One of them now addressed her.</p> + +<p>"Signorina, do you love almonds?"</p> + +<p>The speaker had a lapful of them.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I love them; when I can get them," said Marcia, pettishly, +and eyeing the fruit with ill-concealed desire; "but yours is not +the hand to give me any, I trow."</p> + +<p>"You are much mistook," said the other. "Here, catch!"</p> + +<p>And suddenly threw a double handful into Marcia's lap.</p> + +<p>Marcia brought her knees together by an irresistible instinct.</p> + +<p>"Aha! you are caught, my lad," cried she of the nuts. "'Tis a +man; or a boy. A woman still parteth her knees to catch the nuts +the surer in her apron; but a man closeth his for fear they shall fall +between his hose. Confess now, didst never wear fardingale ere to-day."</p> + +<p>"Give me another handful, sweetheart, and I'll tell thee."</p> + +<p>"There! I said he was too handsome for a woman."</p> + +<p>"Ser Gerard, they have found me out," observed the Epicæne, +calmly cracking an almond.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[492]</a></span></p> + +<p>The libertines vowed it was impossible, and all glared at the goddess +like a battery. But Vanucci struck in, and reminded the gaping +gazers of a recent controversy, in which they had, with an unanimity +not often found among dunces, laughed Gerard and him to +scorn, for saying that men were as beautiful as women in a true +artist's eye.</p> + +<p>"Where are ye now? This is my boy Andrea. And you have +all been down on your knees to him. Ha! ha! But oh, my little +ladies, when he lectured you and flung your stibium, your cerussa, +and your purpurissum back in your faces, 'tis then I was like to +burst; a grinds my colours. Ha! ha! he! he! he! ho!"</p> + +<p>"The little impostor! Duck him!"</p> + +<p>"What for, signors?" cried Andrea, in dismay, and lost his rich +carnation.</p> + +<p>But the females collected round him, and vowed nobody should +harm a hair of his head.</p> + +<p>"The dear child! How well his pretty little saucy ways become +him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, what eyes! and teeth!"</p> + +<p>"And what eyebrows and hair!"</p> + +<p>"And what lashes!"</p> + +<p>"And what a nose!"</p> + +<p>"The sweetest little ear in the world!"</p> + +<p>"And what health! Touch but his cheek with a pin the blood +should squirt."</p> + +<p>"Who would be so cruel?"</p> + +<p>"He is a rosebud washed in dew."</p> + +<p>And they revenged themselves for their beaux' admiration of her +by lavishing all their tenderness on him.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>But one there was who was still among these butterflies but no +longer of them.</p> + +<p>The sight of the Princess Clælia had torn open his wound.</p> + +<p>Scarce three months ago he had declined the love of that peerless +creature; a love illicit and insane; but at least refined. How much +lower had he fallen now.</p> + +<p>How happy he must have been, when the blandishments of Clælia, +that might have melted an anchorite, could not tempt him from the +path of loyalty!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[493]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now what was he? He had blushed at her seeing him in such +company. Yet it was his daily company.</p> + +<p>He hung over the boat in moody silence.</p> + +<p>And from that hour another phase of his misery began; and grew +upon him.</p> + +<p>Some wretched fools try to drown care in drink.</p> + +<p>The fumes of intoxication vanish; the inevitable care remains, and +must be faced at last—with an aching head, a disordered stomach, +and spirits artificially depressed.</p> + +<p>Gerard's conduct had been of a piece with these maniacs'. To +survive his terrible blow he needed all his forces; his virtue, his +health, his habits of labour, and the calm sleep that is labour's satellite; +above all, his piety.</p> + +<p>Yet all these balms to wounded hearts he flung away, and trusted +to moral intoxication.</p> + +<p>Its brief fumes fled; the bereaved heart lay still heavy as lead +within his bosom; but now the dark vulture Remorse sat upon it +rending it.</p> + +<p>Broken health; means wasted; innocence fled; Margaret parted +from him by another gulf wider than the grave!</p> + +<p>The hot fit of despair passed away.</p> + +<p>The cold fit of despair came on.</p> + +<p>Then this miserable young man spurned his gay companions, and +all the world.</p> + +<p>He wandered alone. He drank wine alone to stupefy himself; +and paralyze a moment the dark foes to man that preyed upon his +soul. He wandered alone amidst the temples of old Rome, and lay +stony-eyed, woe-begone, among their ruins, worse wrecked than +they.</p> + +<p>Last of all came the climax, to which solitude, that gloomy yet +fascinating foe of minds diseased, pushes the hopeless.</p> + +<p>He wandered alone at night by dark streams, and eyed them, and +eyed them, with decreasing repugnance. There glided peace; perhaps +annihilation.</p> + +<p>What else was left him?</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>These dark spells have been broken by kind words, by loving and +cheerful voices.</p> + +<p>The humblest friend the afflicted one possesses may speak, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494">[494]</a></span> +look, or smile, a sunbeam between him and that worst madness +Gerard now brooded.</p> + +<p>Where was Teresa? Where his hearty, kind, old landlady?</p> + +<p>They would see with their homely but swift intelligence; they +would see and save.</p> + +<p>No: they knew not where he was, or whither he was gliding.</p> + +<p>And is there no mortal eye upon the poor wretch, and the dark +road he is going?</p> + +<p>Yes: one eye there is upon him; watching his every movement; +following him abroad; tracking him home.</p> + +<p>And that eye is the eye of an enemy.</p> + +<p>An enemy to the death.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXVI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IN an apartment richly furnished, the floor covered with striped +and spotted skins of animals, a lady sat with her arms extended +before her, and her hands half clenched. The agitation of her +face corresponded with this attitude: she was pale and red by turns; +and her foot restless.</div> + +<p>Presently the curtain was drawn by a domestic.</p> + +<p>The lady's brow flushed.</p> + +<p>The maid said, in an awe-struck whisper, "Altezza, the man is +here."</p> + +<p>The lady bade her admit him, and snatched up a little black mask +and put it on; and in a moment her colour was gone, and the contrast +between her black mask and her marble cheeks was strange and +fearful.</p> + +<p>A man entered bowing and scraping. It was such a figure as +crowds seem made of; short hair, roundish head, plain, but decent +clothes; features neither comely nor forbidding. Nothing to remark +in him but a singularly restless eye.</p> + +<p>After a profusion of bows he stood opposite the lady, and awaited +her pleasure.</p> + +<p>"They have told you for what you are wanted."</p> + +<p>"Yes, signora."</p> + +<p>"Did those who spoke to you agree as to what you are to receive?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, signora. 'Tis the full price; and purchases the greater<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495">[495]</a></span> +vendetta: unless of your benevolence you choose to content yourself +with the lesser."</p> + +<p>"I understand you not," said the lady.</p> + +<p>"Ah; this is the signora's first. The lesser vendetta, lady, is the +death of the body only. We watch our man come out of a church; +or take him in an innocent hour; and so deal with him. In the +greater vendetta we watch him, and catch him hot from some unrepented +sin, and so slay his soul as well as his body. But this vendetta +is not so run upon now as it was a few years ago."</p> + +<p>"Man, silence me his tongue, and let his treasonable heart beat +no more. But his soul I have no feud with."</p> + +<p>"So be it, signora. He who spoke to me knew not the man, nor +his name, nor his abode. From whom shall I learn these?"</p> + +<p>"From myself."</p> + +<p>At this the man, with the first symptoms of anxiety he had shown, +entreated her to be cautious, and particular in this part of the business.</p> + +<p>"Fear me not," said she. "Listen. It is a young man, tall of +stature, and auburn hair, and dark-blue eyes, and an honest face, +would deceive a saint. He lives in the Via Claudia, at the corner +house; the glover's. In that house there lodge but three males: he, +and a painter short of stature and dark visaged, and a young, slim +boy. He that hath betrayed me is a stranger, fair; and taller than +thou art."</p> + +<p>The bravo listened with all his ears. "It is enough," said he. +"Stay, signora, haunteth he any secret place where I may deal with +him?"</p> + +<p>"My spy doth report me he hath of late frequented the banks of +Tiber after dusk; doubtless to meet his light o' love, who calls me +her rival; even there slay him! and let my rival come and find him; +the smooth, heartless, insolent traitor."</p> + +<p>"Be calm, signora. He will betray no more ladies."</p> + +<p>"I know not that. He weareth a sword, and can use it. He is +young and resolute."</p> + +<p>"Neither will avail him."</p> + +<p>"Are ye so sure of your hand? What are your weapons?"</p> + +<p>The bravo showed her a steel gauntlet. "We strike with such +force we needs must guard our hand. This is our mallet." He +then undid his doublet, and gave her a glimpse of a coat of mail<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[496]</a></span> +beneath, and finally laid his glittering stiletto on the table with a +flourish.</p> + +<p>The lady shuddered at first, but presently took it up in her white +hand and tried its point against her finger.</p> + +<p>"Beware, madam," said the bravo.</p> + +<p>"What, is it poisoned?"</p> + +<p>"Saints forbid! We steal no lives. We take them with steel +point, not drugs. But 'tis newly ground, and I feared for the signora's +white skin."</p> + +<p>"His skin is as white as mine," said she, with a sudden gleam of +pity. It lasted but a moment. "But his heart is black as soot. +Say, do I not well to remove a traitor that slanders me?"</p> + +<p>"The signora will settle that with her confessor. I am but a tool +in noble hands; like my stiletto."</p> + +<p>The princess appeared not to hear the speaker. "Oh, how I +could have loved him; to the death; as now I hate him. Fool! he +will learn to trifle with princes; to spurn them and fawn on them and +prefer the scum of the town to them, and make them a by-word." +She looked up; "why loiter'st thou here? haste thee, revenge me."</p> + +<p>"It is customary to pay half the price beforehand, signora."</p> + +<p>"Ah I forgot; thy revenge is bought. Here is more than half," +and she pushed a bag across the table to him. "When the blow +is struck, come for the rest."</p> + +<p>"You will soon see me again, signora."</p> + +<p>And he retired bowing and scraping.</p> + +<p>The princess, burning with jealousy, mortified pride, and dread +of exposure (for till she knew Gerard no public stain had fallen on +her), sat where he left her, masked, with her arms straight out +before her, and the nails of her clenched hand nipping the table.</p> + +<p>So sat the fabled sphynx: so sits a tigress.</p> + +<p>Yet there crept a chill upon her now that the assassin was gone. +And moody misgivings heaved within her, precursors of vain remorse. +Gerard and Margaret were before their age. This was +your true mediæval. Proud, amorous, vindictive, generous, foolish, +cunning, impulsive, unprincipled: and ignorant as dirt.</p> + +<p>Power is the curse of such a creature.</p> + +<p>Forced to do her own crimes, the weakness of her nerves would +have balanced the violence of her passions, and her bark been +worse than her bite. But power gives a feeble, furious, woman,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497">[497]</a></span> +male instruments. And the effect is as terrible as the combination +is unnatural.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>In this instance it whetted an assassin's dagger for a poor forlorn +wretch just meditating suicide.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT happened, two days after the scene I have endeavoured to +describe, that Gerard, wandering through one of the meanest +streets of Rome, was overtaken by a thunderstorm, and entered +a low hostelry. He called for wine, and, the rain continuing, soon +drank himself into a half-stupid condition, and dozed with his head +on his hands and his hands upon the table.</div> + +<p>In course of time the room began to fill and the noise of the +rude guests to wake him.</p> + +<p>Then it was he became conscious of two figures near him conversing +in a low voice.</p> + +<p>One was a pardoner. The other by his dress, clean but modest, +might have passed for a decent tradesman: but the way he had +slouched his hat over his brows so as to hide all his face except his +beard, showed he was one of those who shun the eye of honest men, +and of the law. The pair were driving a bargain in the sin market. +And by an arrangement not uncommon at that date, the crime to be +forgiven was yet to be committed—under the celestial contract.</p> + +<p>He of the slouched hat was complaining of the price pardons had +reached. "If they go up any higher we poor fellows shall be shut +out of heaven altogether."</p> + +<p>The pardoner denied the charge flatly. "Indulgences were never +cheaper to good husbandmen."</p> + +<p>The other inquired "Who were they?"</p> + +<p>"Why such as sin by the market, like reasonable creatures. But +if your will be so perverse as go and pick out a crime the Pope hath +set his face against, blame yourself, not me?"</p> + +<p>Then, to prove that crime of one sort or another was within +the means of all, but the very scum of society, he read out the scale +from a written parchment.</p> + +<p>It was a curious list: but not one that could be printed in this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[498]</a></span> +book. And to mutilate it would be to misrepresent it. It is to be +found in any great library. Suffice it to say, that murder of a +layman was much cheaper than many crimes my lay readers would +deem light by comparison.</p> + +<p>This told; and by a little trifling concession on each side, the +bargain was closed, the money handed over, and the aspirant to +heaven's favour forgiven beforehand for removing 1 layman. The +price for disposing of a clerk bore no proportion.</p> + +<p>The word assassination was never once uttered by either merchant.</p> + +<p>All this buzzed in Gerard's ear. But he never lifted his head +from the table; only listened stupidly.</p> + +<p>However, when the parties rose and separated, he half raised his +head and eyed with a scowl the retiring figure of the purchaser.</p> + +<p>"If Margaret was alive," muttered he, "I'd take thee by the +throat and throttle thee, thou cowardly stabber. But she is dead; +dead; dead. Die all the world; 'tis nought to me: so that I die +among the first."</p> + +<p>When he got home there was a man in a slouched hat walking +briskly to and fro on the opposite side of the way.</p> + +<p>"Why there is that cur again," thought Gerard.</p> + +<p>But in his state of mind, the circumstance made no impression +whatever on him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXVIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>TWO nights after this Pietro Vanucci and Andrea sat waiting +supper for Gerard.</div> + +<p>The former grew peevish. It was past nine o'clock. +At last he sent Andrea to Gerard's room on the desperate chance of +his having come in unobserved. Andrea shrugged his shoulders +and went.</p> + +<p>He returned without Gerard, but with a slip of paper. Andrea +could not read, as scholars in his day and charity boys in ours +understand the art; but he had a quick eye, and had learned how +the words Pietro Vanucci looked on paper.</p> + +<p>"That is for you, I trow," said he, proud of his intelligence.</p> + +<p>Pietro snatched it, and read it to Andrea, with his satirical comments.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[499]</a></span></p> + +<p>"'Dear Pietro, dear Andrea, life is too great a burden.'</p> + +<p>"<i>So 'tis, my lad; but that is no reason for being abroad at supper-time. +Supper is not a burden.</i></p> + +<p>"'Wear my habits!'</p> + +<p>"<i>Said the poplar to the juniper bush.</i></p> + +<p>"'And thou, Andrea, mine amethyst ring; and me in both your +hearts, a month or two.'</p> + +<p>"<i>Why, Andrea?</i></p> + +<p>"'For my body, ere this ye read, it will lie in Tiber. Trouble +not to look for it. 'Tis not worth the pains. Oh unhappy day that +it was born; oh happy night that rids me of it.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<span style="margin-left: 11em;">"'Adieu! adieu!</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12em;">"'The broken-hearted Gerard.'</span><br /> +</div> + +<p>"Here is a sorry jest of the peevish rogue," said Pietro. But +his pale cheek and chattering teeth belied his words. Andrea filled +the house with his cries.</p> + +<p>"Oh, miserable day! O, calamity of calamities! Gerard, my +friend, my sweet patron! Help! help! He is killing himself! +Oh, good people, help me save him!" And after alarming all the +house he ran into the street, bareheaded, imploring all good Christians +to help him save his friend.</p> + +<p>A number of persons soon collected.</p> + +<p>But poor Andrea could not animate their sluggishness. Go down +to the river? No. It was not their business. What part of the +river? It was a wild goose chase.</p> + +<p>It was not lucky to go down to the river after sunset. Too many +ghosts walked those banks all night.</p> + +<p>A lacquey, however, who had been standing some time opposite +the house, said he would go with Andrea; and this turned three or +four of the younger ones.</p> + +<p>The little band took the way to the river.</p> + +<p>The lacquey questioned Andrea.</p> + +<p>Andrea, sobbing, told him about the letter, and Gerard's moody +ways of late.</p> + +<p>That lacquey was a spy of the Princess Clælia.</p> + +<p>Their Italian tongues went fast till they neared the Tiber.</p> + +<p>But the moment they felt the air from the river, and the smell +of the stream in the calm spring night, they were dead silent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[500]</a></span></p> + +<p>The moon shone calm and clear in a cloudless sky. Their feet +sounded loud and ominous. Their tongues were hushed.</p> + +<p>Presently hurrying round a corner they met a man. He stopped +irresolute at sight of them.</p> + +<p>The man was bareheaded, and his dripping hair glistened in the +moonlight: and at the next step they saw his clothes were drenched +with water.</p> + +<p>"Here he is," cried one of the young men, unacquainted with +Gerard's face and figure.</p> + +<p>The stranger turned instantly and fled.</p> + +<p>They ran after him might and main, Andrea leading, and the +princess's lacquey next.</p> + +<p>Andrea gained on him: but in a moment he twisted up a narrow +alley. Andrea shot by, unable to check himself; and the pursuers +soon found themselves in a labyrinth in which it was vain to pursue +a quick-footed fugitive who knew every inch of it, and could now +only be followed by the ear.</p> + +<p>They returned to their companions, and found them standing on +the spot where the man had stood, and utterly confounded. For +Pietro had assured them that the fugitive had neither the features +nor the stature of Gerard.</p> + +<p>"Are ye verily sure?" said they. "He had been in the river. +Why, in the saints' names, fled he at our approach?"</p> + +<p>Then said Vanucci, "Friends, methinks this has nought to do +with him we seek. What shall we do, Andrea?"</p> + +<p>Here the lacquey put in his word. "Let us track him to the +water's side, to make sure. See, he hath come dripping all the way."</p> + +<p>This advice was approved, and with very little difficulty they +tracked the man's course.</p> + +<p>But soon they encountered a new enigma.</p> + +<p>They had gone scarcely fifty yards ere the drops turned away +from the river, and took them to the gate of a large gloomy building. +It was a monastery.</p> + +<p>They stood irresolute before it, and gazed at the dark pile. It +seemed to them to hide some horrible mystery.</p> + +<p>But presently Andrea gave a shout. "Here be the drops again," +cried he. "And this road leadeth to the river."</p> + +<p>They resumed the chase; and soon it became clear the drops were +now leading them home. The track became wetter and wetter, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[501]</a></span> +took them to the Tiber's edge. And there on the bank a bucketful +appeared to have been discharged from the stream.</p> + +<p>At first they shouted, and thought they had made a discovery; but +reflection showed them it amounted to nothing. Certainly a man +had been in the water, and had got out of it in safety: but that man +was not Gerard. One said he knew a fisherman hard by that had +nets and drags. They found the fisher and paid him liberally to +sink nets in the river below the place, and to drag it above and below; +and promised him gold should he find the body. Then they ran +vainly up and down the river, which flowed so calm and +voiceless, holding this and a thousand more strange secrets. Suddenly +Andrea, with a cry of hope, ran back to the house.</p> + +<p>He returned in less than half an hour.</p> + +<p>"No," he groaned, and wrung his hands.</p> + +<p>"What is the hour?" asked the lacquey.</p> + +<p>"Four hours past midnight."</p> + +<p>"My pretty lad," said the lacquey, solemnly, "say a mass for thy +friend's soul: for he is not among living men."</p> + +<p>The morning broke. Worn out with fatigue, Andrea and Pietro +went home, heart sick.</p> + +<p>The days rolled on, mute as the Tiber as to Gerard's fate.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT would indeed have been strange if with such barren data as +they possessed, those men could have read the handwriting on +the river's bank.</div> + +<p>For there on that spot an event had just occurred, which, take +it altogether, was perhaps without a parallel in the history of mankind, +and may remain so to the end of time.</p> + +<p>But it shall be told in a very few words, partly by me, partly by +an actor in the scene.</p> + +<p>Gerard, then, after writing his brief adieu to Pietro and Andrea, +had stolen down to the river at nightfall.</p> + +<p>He had taken his measures with a dogged resolution not uncommon +in those who are bent on self-destruction. He filled his pockets +with all the silver and copper he possessed, that he might sink the +surer; and, so provided, hurried to a part of the stream that he had +seen was little frequented.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502">[502]</a></span></p> + +<p>There are some, especially women, who look about to make sure +there is somebody at hand.</p> + +<p>But this resolute wretch looked about him to make sure there was +nobody.</p> + +<p>And, to his annoyance, he observed a single figure leaning against +the corner of an alley. So he affected to stroll carelessly away; but +returned to the spot.</p> + +<p>Lo! the same figure emerged from a side street and loitered about.</p> + +<p>"Can he be watching me? Can he know what I am here for?" +thought Gerard. "Impossible."</p> + +<p>He went briskly off, walked along a street or two, made a detour, +and came back.</p> + +<p>The man had vanished. But, lo! on Gerard looking all round, +to make sure, there he was a few yards behind, apparently fastening +his shoe.</p> + +<p>Gerard saw he was watched, and at this moment observed in the +moonlight a steel gauntlet in his sentinel's hand.</p> + +<p>Then he knew it was an assassin.</p> + +<p>Strange to say, it never occurred to him that his was the life aimed +at. To be sure he was not aware he had an enemy in the world.</p> + +<p>He turned and walked up to the bravo. "My good friend," said +he, eagerly, "sell me thine arm! a single stroke! See, here is all +I have:" and he forced his money into the bravo's hands. "Oh, +prithee! prithee! do one good deed, and rid me of my hateful life!" +and even while speaking he undid his doublet, and bared his bosom.</p> + +<p>The man stared in his face.</p> + +<p>"Why do ye hesitate?" shrieked Gerard. "Have ye no bowels? +Is it so much pains to lift your arm and fall it? Is it because I am +poor, and can't give ye gold? Useless wretch, canst only strike a +man behind; not look one in the face. There, then, do but turn thy +head and hold thy tongue!"</p> + +<p>And with a snarl of contempt he ran from him, and flung himself +into the water.</p> + +<p>"Margaret!"</p> + +<p>At the heavy plunge of his body in the stream the bravo seemed +to recover from a stupor. He ran to the bank, and with a strange +cry the assassin plunged in after the self-destroyer.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>What followed will be related by the assassin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[503]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>A WOMAN has her own troubles, as a man has his.</div> + +<p>And we male writers seldom do more than indicate the +griefs of the other sex. The intelligence of the female +reader must come to our aid, and fill up our cold outlines. So have +I indicated, rather than described, what Margaret Brandt went +through up to that eventful day, when she entered Eli's house an +enemy, read her sweetheart's letter, and remained a friend.</p> + +<p>And now a woman's greatest trial drew near, and Gerard far +away.</p> + +<p>She availed herself but little of Eli's sudden favour: for this reserve +she had always a plausible reason ready; and never hinted at +the true one, which was this; there were two men in that house at +sight of whom she shuddered with instinctive antipathy and dread. +She had read wickedness and hatred in their faces, and mysterious +signals of secret intelligence. She preferred to receive Catherine +and her daughter at home. The former went to see her every day, +and was wrapped up in the expected event.</p> + +<p>Catherine was one of those females whose office is to multiply, +and rear the multiplied: who, when at last they consent to leave off +pelting one out of every room in the house with babies, hover about +the fair scourges that are still in full swing, and do so cluck, they +seem to multiply by proxy. It was in this spirit she entreated Eli +to let her stay at Rotterdam while he went back to Tergou.</p> + +<p>"The poor lass hath not a soul about her, that knows anything +about anything. What avail a pair o' soldiers? Why that sort o' +cattle should be putten out o' doors the first, at such an a time."</p> + +<p>Need I say that this was a great comfort to Margaret.</p> + +<p>Poor soul, she was full of anxiety as the time drew near.</p> + +<p>She should die; and Gerard away.</p> + +<p>But things balance themselves. Her poverty, and her father's +helplessness, which had cost her such a struggle, stood her in good +stead now.</p> + +<p>Adversity's iron hand had forced her to battle the lassitude that +overpowers the rich of her sex, and to be for ever on her feet, working. +She kept this up to the last by Catherine's advice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[504]</a></span></p> + +<p>And so it was, that one fine evening just at sunset, she lay weak +as water, but safe; with a little face by her side, and the heaven +of maternity opening on her.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Why dost weep, sweetheart? All of a sudden?"</p> + +<p>"He is not here to see it."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, lass, he will be here ere 'tis weaned. Meantime, God +hath been as good to thee as to e'er a woman born: and do but bethink +thee it might have been a girl; didn't my very own Kate +threaten me with one: and here we have got the bonniest boy in +Holland, and a rare heavy one, the saints be praised for't."</p> + +<p>"Ay, mother, I am but a sorry, ungrateful wretch to weep. If +only Gerard were here to see it. 'Tis strange; I bore him well enow +to be away from me in my sorrow; but, oh, it doth seem so hard +he should not share my joy. Prithee, prithee, come to me, Gerard! +dear, dear, Gerard!" And she stretched out her feeble arms.</p> + +<p>Catherine bustled about, but avoided Margaret's eyes; for she +could not restrain her own tears at hearing her own absent child +thus earnestly addressed.</p> + +<p>Presently, turning round, she found Margaret looking at her with +a singular expression. "Heard you nought?"</p> + +<p>"No, my lamb. What?"</p> + +<p>"I did cry on Gerard, but now."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sure I heard that."</p> + +<p>"Well, he answered me."</p> + +<p>"Tush, girl: say not that."</p> + +<p>"Mother, as sure as I lie here, with his boy by my side, his voice +came back to me, 'Margaret!' So. Yet methought 'twas not his +<i>happy</i> voice. But that might be the distance. All voices go off sad +like at a distance. Why art not happy, sweetheart? and I so happy +this night? Mother, I seem never to have felt a pain or known a +care." And her sweet eyes turned and gloated on the little face +in silence.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>That very night Gerard flung himself into the Tiber. And, that +very hour she heard him speak her name, he cried aloud in death's +jaws and despair's.</p> + +<p>"Margaret!"</p> + +<p>Account for it those who can. I cannot.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[505]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IN the guest chamber of a Dominican convent lay a single +stranger, exhausted by successive and violent fits of nausea, +which had at last subsided, leaving him almost as weak as +Margaret lay that night in Holland.</div> + +<p>A huge wood fire burned on the hearth, and beside it hung the +patient's clothes.</p> + +<p>A gigantic friar sat by his bedside reading pious collects aloud +from his breviary.</p> + +<p>The patient at times eyed him, and seemed to listen: at others +closed his eyes and moaned.</p> + +<p>The monk kneeled down with his face touching the ground and +prayed for him: then rose and bade him farewell. "Day breaks," +said he, "I must prepare for matins."</p> + +<p>"Good Father Jerome, before you go, how came I hither?"</p> + +<p>"By the hand of heaven. You flung away God's gift. He bestowed +it on you again. Think on it! Hast tried the world, and +found its gall. Now try the church! The church is peace. Pax +vobiscum."</p> + +<p>He was gone. Gerard lay back, meditating and wondering, till +weak and wearied he fell into a doze.</p> + +<p>When he awoke again he found a new nurse seated beside him. +It was a layman, with an eye as small and restless as Friar Jerome's +was calm and majestic.</p> + +<p>The man inquired earnestly how he felt.</p> + +<p>"Very, very weak. Where have I seen you before, Messer?"</p> + +<p>"None the worse for my gauntlet?" inquired the other with considerable +anxiety; "I was fain to strike you withal, or both you and +I should be at the bottom of Tiber."</p> + +<p>Gerard stared at him. "What, 'twas you saved me? How?"</p> + +<p>"Well, signor, I was by the banks of Tiber on—on—an errand, +no matter what. You came to me and begged hard for a dagger +stroke. But ere I could oblige you, ay, even as you spoke to me, I +knew you for the signor that saved my wife and child upon the sea."</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 409px;"> +<img src="images/illus541.jpg" width="409" height="600" alt="SOON GERARD WAS AT FATHER ANSELM'S KNEES" title="" /> +<span class="caption">SOON GERARD WAS AT FATHER ANSELM'S KNEES</span> +</div> +<p>"It <i>is</i> Teresa's husband. And an assassin?!!?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[506]</a></span></p> + +<p>"At your service. Well, Ser Gerard, the next thing was, you +flung yourself into Tiber, and bade me hold aloof."</p> + +<p>"I remember that."</p> + +<p>"Had it been any but you, believe me I had obeyed you, and not +wagged a finger. Men are my foes. They may all hang on one +rope, or drown in one river for me. But when thou, sinking in +Tiber, didst cry 'Margaret!'"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"My heart it cried 'Teresa!' How could I go home and look her +in the face, did I let thee die, and by the very death thou savedst +her from? So in I went; and luckily for us both I swim like a +duck. You, seeing me near, and being bent on destruction, tried to +grip me, and so end us both. But I swam round thee, and (receive +my excuses) so buffeted thee on the nape of the neck with my steel +glove; that thou lost sense, and I with much ado, the stream being +strong, did draw thy body to land, but insensible and full of water. +Then I took thee on my back and made for my own home. 'Teresa +will nurse him, and be pleased with me,' thought I. But, hard by +this monastery, a holy friar, the biggest e'er I saw, met us and +asked the matter. So I told him. He looked hard at thee. 'I +know the face,' quoth he. ''Tis one Gerard, a fair youth from +Holland.' 'The same,' quo' I. Then said his reverence, 'He hath +friends among our brethren. Leave him with us! Charity, it is +our office.'</p> + +<p>"Also he told me they of the convent had better means to tend thee +than I had. And that was true enow. So I just bargained to be +let in to see thee once a day, and here thou art."</p> + +<p>And the miscreant cast a strange look of affection and interest +upon Gerard.</p> + +<p>Gerard did not respond to it. He felt as if a snake were in the +room. He closed his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Ah thou wouldst sleep," said the miscreant eagerly. "I go."</p> + +<p>And he retired on tiptoe with a promise to come every day.</p> + +<p>Gerard lay with his eyes closed: not asleep, but deeply pondering.</p> + +<p>Saved from death by an assassin!</p> + +<p>Was not this the finger of Heaven?</p> + +<p>Of that Heaven he had insulted, cursed, and defied.</p> + +<p>He shuddered at his blasphemies. He tried to pray.</p> + +<p>He found he could utter prayers. But he could not pray.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[507]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am doomed eternally," he cried, "doomed, doomed."</p> + +<p>The organ of the convent church burst on his ear in rich and solemn +harmony.</p> + +<p>Then rose the voices of the choir chanting a full service.</p> + +<p>Among them was one that seemed to hover above the others, and +tower towards heaven; a sweet boy's voice, full, pure, angelic.</p> + +<p>He closed his eyes and listened. The days of his own boyhood +flowed back upon him in those sweet, pious harmonies. No earthly +dross there, no foul, fierce, passions, rending and corrupting the +soul.</p> + +<p>Peace; peace; sweet, balmy, peace.</p> + +<p>"Ay," he sighed, "the Church is peace of mind. Till I left her +bosom I ne'er knew sorrow, nor sin."</p> + +<p>And the poor torn, worn, creature, wept.</p> + +<p>And, even as he wept, there beamed on him the sweet and reverend +face of one he had never thought to see again. It was the face of +Father Anselm.</p> + +<p>The good father had only reached the convent the night before +last. Gerard recognized him in a moment, and cried to him, "Oh +Father Anselm, you cured my wounded body in Juliers; now cure +my hurt soul in Rome! Alas, you cannot."</p> + +<p>Anselm sat down by the bedside, and, putting a gentle hand on his +head, first calmed him with a soothing word or two.</p> + +<p>He then (for he had learned how Gerard came there) spoke to him +kindly but solemnly, and made him feel his crime, and urged him to +repentance, and gratitude to that Divine Power which had thwarted +his will to save his soul.</p> + +<p>"Come, my son," said he, "first purge thy bosom of its load."</p> + +<p>"Ah, father," said Gerard, "in Juliers I could; then I was innocent; +but now, impious monster that I am, I dare not confess to +you."</p> + +<p>"Why not, my son? Thinkest thou I have not sinned against +Heaven in my time, and deeply? oh how deeply! Come, poor laden +soul, pour forth thy grief, pour forth thy faults, hold back nought! +Lie not oppressed and crushed by hidden sins."</p> + +<p>And soon Gerard was at Father Anselm's knees confessing his +every sin with sighs and groans of penitence.</p> + +<p>"Thy sins are great," said Anselm. "Thy temptation also was +great, terribly great. I must consult our good prior."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[508]</a></span></p> + +<p>The good Anselm kissed his brow, and left him to consult the +superior as to his penance.</p> + +<p>And, lo! Gerard could pray now.</p> + +<p>And he prayed with all his heart.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The phase, through which this remarkable mind now passed, may +be summed in a word—Penitence.</p> + +<p>He turned with terror and aversion from the world, and begged +passionately to remain in the convent. To him, convent nurtured, +it was like a bird returning wounded, wearied, to its gentle nest.</p> + +<p>He passed his noviciate in prayer, and mortification, and pious +reading, and meditation.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The Princess Clælia's spy went home and told her that Gerard +was certainly dead, the manner of his death unknown at present.</p> + +<p>She seemed literally stunned.</p> + +<p>When, after a long time, she found breath to speak at all, it was +to bemoan her lot, cursed with such ready tools. "So soon," she +sighed; "see how swift these monsters are to do ill deeds. They +come to us in our hot blood, and first tempt us with their venal +daggers, then enact the mortal deeds we ne'er had thought on but +for them."</p> + +<p>Ere many hours had passed, her pity for Gerard and hatred of +his murderer had risen to fever heat; which with this fool was +blood heat.</p> + +<p>"Poor soul! I cannot call thee back to life. But he shall never +live that traitorously slew thee."</p> + +<p>And she put armed men in ambush, and kept them on guard all +day, ready, when Ludovico should come for his money, to fall on +him in a certain antechamber and hack him to pieces.</p> + +<p>"Strike at his head," said she, "for he weareth a privy coat of +mail; and if he goes hence alive your own heads shall answer it."</p> + +<p>And so she sat weeping her victim, and pulling the strings of +machines to shed the blood of a second for having been her machine +to kill the first.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[509]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>ONE of the novice Gerard's self-imposed penances was to +receive Ludovico kindly, feeling secretly as to a slimy +serpent.</div> + +<p>Never was self-denial better bestowed: and, like most rational +penances, it soon became no penance at all. At first the pride and +complacency, with which the assassin gazed on the one life he had +saved, was perhaps as ludicrous as pathetic; but it is a great thing +to open a good door in a heart. One good thing follows another +through the aperture. Finding it so sweet to save life, the miscreant +went on to be averse to taking it; and from that to remorse; +and from remorse to something very like penitence. And here +Teresa co-operated by threatening, not for the first time, to leave +him unless he would consent to lead an honest life. The good +fathers of the convent lent their aid, and Ludovico and Teresa were +sent by sea to Leghorn, where Teresa had friends, and the assassin +settled down and became a porter.</p> + +<p>He found it miserably dull work at first: and said so.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>But methinks this dull life of plodding labour was better for +him, than the brief excitement of being hewn in pieces by the +Princess Clælia's myrmidons. His exile saved the unconscious +penitent from that fate; and the princess, balked of her revenge, +took to brooding, and fell into a profound melancholy; dismissed +her confessor, and took a new one with a great reputation for piety, +to whom she confided what she called her griefs. The new confessor +was no other than Fra Jerome. She could not have fallen +into better hands.</p> + +<p>He heard her grimly out. Then took her and shook the delusions +out of her as roughly as if she had been a kitchen-maid. For, +to do this hard monk justice, on the path of duty he feared the anger +of princes as little as he did the sea. He showed her in a few words, +all thunder and lightning, that she was the criminal of criminals.</p> + +<p>"Thou art the devil, that with thy money hath tempted one man +to slay his fellow, and then, blinded with self-love, instead of blaming +and punishing thyself, art thirsting for more blood of guilty +men, but not so guilty as thou."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[510]</a></span></p> + +<p>At first she resisted, and told him she was not used to be taken +to task by her confessors. But he overpowered her, and so threatened +her with the Church's curse here and hereafter, and so tore +the scales off her eyes, and thundered at her, and crushed her, that +she sank down and grovelled with remorse and terror at the feet of +the gigantic Boanerges.</p> + +<p>"Oh, holy father, have pity on a poor weak woman, and help me +save my guilty soul. I was benighted for want of ghostly counsel +like thine, good father. I waken as from a dream."</p> + +<p>"Doff thy jewels," said Fra Jerome, sternly.</p> + +<p>"I will. I will."</p> + +<p>"Doff thy silk and velvet: and, in humbler garb than wears thy +meanest servant, wend thou instant to Loretto."</p> + +<p>"I will," said the princess, faintly.</p> + +<p>"No shoes: but a bare sandal."</p> + +<p>"No, father."</p> + +<p>"Wash the feet of pilgrims both going and coming; and to such +of them as be holy friars tell thy sin, and abide their admonition."</p> + +<p>"Oh, holy father, let me wear my mask."</p> + +<p>"Humph!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mercy! Bethink thee! My features are known through +Italy."</p> + +<p>"Ay. Beauty is a curse to most of ye. Well, thou mayst mask +thine eyes; no more."</p> + +<p>On this concession she seized his hand, and was about to kiss it; +but he snatched it rudely from her.</p> + +<p>"What would ye do? That hand handled the eucharist but an +hour agone: is it fit for such as thou to touch it?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no. But oh, go not without giving your penitent daughter +your blessing."</p> + +<p>"Time enow to ask it when you come back from Loretto."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Thus that marvellous occurrence by Tiber's banks left its mark +on all the actors, as prodigies are said to do. The assassin, softened +by saving the life he was paid to take, turned from the stiletto to +the porter's knot. The princess went barefoot to Loretto, weeping +her crime and washing the feet of base born men.</p> + +<p>And Gerard, carried from the Tiber into that convent a suicide, +now passed for a young saint within its walls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[511]</a></span></p> + +<p>Loving but experienced eyes were on him.</p> + +<p>Upon a shorter probation than usual he was admitted to priests' +orders.</p> + +<p>And soon after took the monastic vows, and became a friar of St. +Dominic.</p> + +<p>Dying to the world, the monk parted with the very name by which +he had lived in it, and so broke the last link of association with +earthly feelings.</p> + +<p>Here Gerard ended, and Brother Clement began.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"AS is the race of leaves so is that of man." And a great +man budded unnoticed in a tailor's house at Rotterdam +this year, and a large man dropped to earth with great +éclat.</div> + +<p>Philip Duke of Burgundy, Earl of Holland, etc., etc., lay sick +at Bruges. Now paupers got sick and got well as Nature pleased: +but woe betided the rich in an age when, for one Mr. Malady killed, +three fell by Dr. Remedy.</p> + +<p>The duke's complaint, nameless then, is now diphtheria. It is, +and was, a very weakening malady, and the duke was old; so altogether +Dr. Remedy bled him.</p> + +<p>The duke turned very cold: wonderful!</p> + +<p>Then Dr. Remedy had recourse to the arcana of science.</p> + +<p>"Ho! This is grave. Flay me an ape incontinent, and clap him +to the duke's breast!"</p> + +<p>Officers of state ran septemvious, seeking an ape to counteract +the bloodthirsty tomfoolery of the human species.</p> + +<p>Perdition! The duke was out of apes. There were buffaloes, +lizards, Turks, leopards; any unreasonable beast but the right one.</p> + +<p>"Why, there used to be an ape about," said one. "If I stand +here I saw him."</p> + +<p>So there used; but the mastiff had mangled the sprightly creature +for stealing his supper: and so fulfilled the human precept, "Soyez +de votre siècle!"</p> + +<p>In this emergency the seneschal cast his despairing eyes around; +and not in vain. A hopeful light shot into them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[512]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Here is <i>this</i>," said he, sotto voce. "Surely <i>this</i> will serve; 'tis +altogether apelike, doublet and hose apart."</p> + +<p>"Nay," said the chancellor, peevishly, "the Princess Marie would +hang us. She doteth on <i>this</i>."</p> + +<p>Now <i>this</i> was our friend Giles, strutting, all unconscious, in cloth +of gold.</p> + +<p>Then Dr. Remedy grew impatient, and bade flay a dog.</p> + +<p>"A dog is next best to an ape; only it must be a dog all of one +colour."</p> + +<p>So they flayed a liver-coloured dog, and clapped it, yet palpitating, +to their sovereign's breast: and he died.</p> + +<p>Philip the Good, thus scientifically disposed of, left thirty-one +children: of whom one, somehow or another, was legitimate; and +reigned in his stead.</p> + +<p>The good duke provided for nineteen out of the other thirty; the +rest shifted for themselves.</p> + +<p>According to the Flemish chronicle the deceased prince was descended +from the kings of Troy through Thierry of Aquitaine, and +Chilperic, Pharamond, &c., the old kings of Franconia.</p> + +<p>But this in reality was no distinction. Not a prince of his day +have I been able to discover who did not come down from Troy. +"Priam" was mediæval for "Adam."</p> + +<p>The good duke's body was carried into Burgundy, and laid in a +noble mausoleum of black marble at Dijon.</p> + +<p>Holland rang with his death; and little dreamed that anything +as famous was born in her territory that year. That judgment has +been long reversed. Men gaze at the tailor's house, where the great +birth of the fifteenth century took place. In what house the good +duke died "no one knows and no one cares," as the song says.</p> + +<p>And why?</p> + +<p>Dukes Philip the Good come and go, and leave mankind not a +halfpenny wiser, nor better, nor other, than they found it. But +when, once in three hundred years, such a child is born to the world +as Margaret's son, lo! a human torch lighted by fire from heaven; +and "FIAT LUX" thunders from pole to pole.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[513]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXIV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Cloister</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE Dominicans, or preaching friars, once the most powerful +order in Europe, were now on the wane; their rivals +and bitter enemies, the Franciscans, were overpowering +them throughout Europe; even in England, a rich and religious +country, where, under the name of the Black Friars, they had once +been paramount.</div> + +<p>Therefore the sagacious men, who watched and directed the interests +of the order, were never so anxious to incorporate able and +zealous sons, and send them forth to win back the world.</p> + +<p>The zeal and accomplishments of Clement, especially his rare +mastery of language (for he spoke Latin, Italian, French, high and +low Dutch) soon transpired, and he was destined to travel and +preach in England, corresponding with the Roman centre.</p> + +<p>But Jerome, who had the superior's ear, obstructed this design.</p> + +<p>"Clement," said he, "has the milk of the world still in his veins, +its feelings, its weaknesses; let not his new-born zeal and his humility +tempt us to forego our ancient wisdom. Try him first, and +temper him, lest one day we find ourselves leaning on a reed for a +staff."</p> + +<p>"It is well advised," said the prior. "Take him in hand thyself."</p> + +<p>Then Jerome, following the ancient wisdom, took Clement and +tried him.</p> + +<p>One day he brought him to a field where the young men amused +themselves at the games of the day; he knew this to be a haunt of +Clement's late friends.</p> + +<p>And sure enough ere long Pietro Vanucci and Andrea passed by +them, and cast a careless glance on the two friars. They did not +recognize their dead friend in a shaven monk.</p> + +<p>Clement gave a very little start, and then lowered his eyes and +said a pater noster.</p> + +<p>"Would ye not speak with them, brother?" said Jerome, trying +him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[514]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No, brother: yet was it good for me to see them. They remind +me of the sins I can never repent enough."</p> + +<p>"It is well," said Jerome, and he made a cold report in Clement's +favour.</p> + +<p>Then Jerome took Clement to many death-beds. And then into +noisome dungeons; places where the darkness was appalling, and the +stench loathsome, pestilential; and men looking like wild beasts +lay coiled in rags and filth and despair. It tried his body hard; +but the soul collected all its powers to comfort such poor wretches +there as were not past comfort. And Clement shone in that trial. +Jerome reported that Clement's spirit was willing, but his flesh +was weak.</p> + +<p>"Good!" said Anselm; "his flesh is weak, but his spirit is willing."</p> + +<p>But there was a greater trial in store.</p> + +<p>I will describe it as it was seen by others.</p> + +<p>One morning a principal street in Rome was crowded, and even +the avenues blocked up with heads. It was an execution. No common +crime had been done, and on no vulgar victim.</p> + +<p>The governor of Rome had been found in his bed at daybreak, +<i>slaughtered</i>. His hand, raised probably in self-defence, lay by his +side severed at the wrist; his throat was cut, and his temples bruised +with some blunt instrument. The murder had been traced to his +servant, and was to be expiated in kind this very morning.</p> + +<p>Italian executions were not cruel in general. But this murder +was thought to call for exact and bloody retribution.</p> + +<p>The criminal was brought to the house of the murdered man, and +fastened for half an hour to its wall. After this foretaste of legal +vengeance his left hand was struck off, like his victim's. A new +killed fowl was cut open and fastened round the bleeding stump; +with what view I really don't know; but, by the look of it, some +mare's nest of the poor dear doctors; and the murderer, thus mutilated +and bandaged, was hurried to the scaffold; and there a young +friar was most earnest and affectionate in praying with him, and +for him, and holding the crucifix close to his eyes.</p> + +<p>Presently the executioner pulled the friar roughly on one side, +and in a moment felled the culprit with a heavy mallet, and falling +on him, cut his throat from ear to ear.</p> + +<p>There was a cry of horror from the crowd.</p> + +<p>The young friar swooned away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[515]</a></span></p> + +<p>A gigantic monk strode forward, and carried him off like a child.</p> + +<p>Brother Clement went back to the convent sadly discouraged. He +confessed to the prior, with tears of regret.</p> + +<p>"Courage, son Clement," said the prior. "A Dominican is not +made in a day. Thou shalt have another trial. And I forbid thee +to go to it fasting." Clement bowed his head in token of obedience. +He had not long to wait. A robber was brought to the scaffold; a +monster of villainy and cruelty, who had killed men in pure wantonness, +after robbing them. Clement passed his last night in prison +with him, accompanied him to the scaffold, and then prayed with +him and for him so earnestly that the hardened ruffian shed tears +and embraced him. Clement embraced him too, though his flesh +quivered with repugnance; and held the crucifix earnestly before +his eyes. The man was garotted, and Clement lost sight of the +crowd, and prayed loud and earnestly while that dark spirit was +passing from earth. He was no sooner dead than the hangman +raised his hatchet and quartered the body on the spot. And, oh, +mysterious heart of man! the people, who had seen the living body +robbed of life with indifference, almost with satisfaction, uttered a +piteous cry at each stroke of the axe upon his corpse that could feel +nought. Clement too shuddered then, but stood firm, like one of +those rocks that vibrate but cannot be thrown down. But suddenly +Jerome's voice sounded in his ear.</p> + +<p>"Brother Clement, get thee on that cart and preach to the people. +Nay, quickly! strike with all thy force on all this iron, while yet +'tis hot, and souls are to be saved."</p> + +<p>Clement's colour came and went; and he breathed hard. But he +obeyed, and with ill-assured step mounted the cart, and preached +his first sermon to the first crowd he had ever faced. Oh, that sea +of heads! His throat seemed parched, his heart thumped, his voice +trembled.</p> + +<p>By-and-by the greatness of the occasion, the sight of the eager +upturned faces, and his own heart full of zeal, fired the pale monk. +He told them this robber's history, warm from his own lips in the +prison, and showed his hearers by that example the gradations of +folly and crime, and warned them solemnly not to put foot on the +first round of that fatal ladder. And as alternately he thundered +against the shedders of blood, and moved the crowd to charity and +pity, his tremors left him, and he felt all strung up like a lute, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516">[516]</a></span> +gifted with an unsuspected force; he was master of that listening +crowd, could feel their very pulse, could play sacred melodies on +them as on his psaltery. Sobs and groans attested his power over +the mob already excited by the tragedy before them. Jerome stared +like one who goes to light a stick; and fires a rocket. After a while +Clement caught his look of astonishment, and seeing no approbation +in it, broke suddenly off, and joined him.</p> + +<p>"It was my first endeavour," said he, apologetically. "Your behest +came on me like a thunderbolt. Was I?—Did I?—Oh, correct +me and aid me with your experience, brother Jerome."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Jerome, doubtfully. He added, rather sullenly +after long reflection, "Give the glory to God, brother Clement; my +opinion is thou art an orator born."</p> + +<p>He reported the same at headquarters, half reluctantly. For he +was an honest friar though a disagreeable one.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>One Julio Antonelli was accused of sacrilege; three witnesses +swore they saw him come out of the church whence the candlesticks +were stolen, and at the very time. Other witnesses proved an alibi +for him as positively. Neither testimony could be shaken. In this +doubt Antonelli was permitted the trial by water, hot or cold. By +the hot trial he must put his bare arm into boiling water, fourteen +inches deep, and take out a pebble; by the cold trial his body must +be let down into eight feet of water. The clergy, who thought him +innocent, recommended the hot water trial, which, to those whom +they favoured, was not so terrible as it sounded. But the poor +wretch had not the nerve, and chose the cold ordeal. And this gave +Jerome another opportunity of steeling Clement. Antonelli took +the sacrament, and then was stripped naked on the banks of the +Tiber, and tied hand and foot, to prevent those struggles by +which a man, throwing his arms out of the water, sinks his +body.</p> + +<p>He was then let down gently into the stream, and floated a moment, +with just his hair above water. A simultaneous roar from the +crowd on each bank proclaimed him guilty. But the next moment +the ropes, which happened to be new, got wet, and he settled down. +Another roar proclaimed his innocence. They left him at the bottom +of the river the appointed time, rather more than half a minute, +then drew him up, gurgling, and gasping, and screaming for mercy;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[517]</a></span> +and, after the appointed prayers, dismissed him, cleared of the +charge.</p> + +<p>During the experiment Clement prayed earnestly on the bank. +When it was over he thanked God in a loud but slightly quavering +voice.</p> + +<p>By-and-by he asked Jerome whether the man ought not to be +compensated.</p> + +<p>"For what?"</p> + +<p>"For the pain, the dread, the suffocation. Poor soul, he liveth, +but hath tasted all the bitterness of death. Yet he had done no ill."</p> + +<p>"He is rewarded enough in that he is cleared of his fault."</p> + +<p>"But, being innocent of that fault, yet hath he drunk Death's cup, +though not to the dregs; and his accusers, less innocent than he, do +suffer nought."</p> + +<p>Jerome replied, somewhat sternly:</p> + +<p>"It is not in this world men are really punished, brother Clement. +Unhappy they who sin yet suffer not. And happy they who suffer +such ills as earth hath power to inflict; 'tis counted to them above, +ay, and a hundredfold."</p> + +<p>Clement bowed his head submissively.</p> + +<p>"May thy good words not fall to the ground, but take root in my +heart, brother Jerome."</p> + +<p>But the severest trial Clement underwent at Jerome's hands was +unpremeditated. It came about thus. Jerome, in an indulgent +moment, went with him to Fra Colonna, and there "The Dream of +Polifilo" lay on the table just copied fairly. The poor author, in +the pride of his heart, pointed out a master-stroke in it.</p> + +<p>"For ages," said he, "fools have been lavishing poetic praise and +amorous compliment on mortal women, mere creatures of earth, +smacking palpably of their origin; Sirens at the windows, where our +Roman women in particular have by lifelong study learned the wily +art to show their one good feature, though but an ear or an eyelash, +at a jalosy, and hide all the rest; Magpies at the door, Capre n' i +giardini, Angeli in Strada, Sante in chiesa, Diavoli in casa. Then +come I and ransack the minstrels' lines for amorous turns, not forgetting +those which Petrarch wasted on that French jilt Laura, +the slyest of them all; and I lay you the whole bundle of spice at +the feet of the only females worthy amorous incense; to wit, the +Nine Muses."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[518]</a></span></p> + +<p>"By which goodly stratagem," said Jerome, who had been turning +the pages all this time, "you, a friar of St. Dominic, have produced +an obscene book." And he dashed Polifilo on the table.</p> + +<p>"Obscene? thou discourteous monk!" And the author ran round +the table, snatched Polifilo away, locked him up, and, trembling +with mortification, said, "My Gerard, pshaw! brother What's-his-name, +had not found Polifilo obscene. Puris omnia pura."</p> + +<p>"Such as read your Polifilo—Heaven grant they may be few!—will +find him what I find him."</p> + +<p>Poor Colonna gulped down this bitter pill as he might; and had +he not been in his own lodgings, and a high born gentleman as well +as a scholar, there might have been a vulgar quarrel. As it was, he +made a great effort, and turned the conversation to a beautiful chrysolite +the Cardinal Colonna had lent him; and, while Clement +handled it, enlarged on its moral virtues: for he went the whole +length of his age as a worshipper of jewels. But Jerome did not, +and expostulated with him for believing that one dead stone could +confer valour on its wearer, another chastity, another safety from +poison, another temperance.</p> + +<p>"The experience of ages proves they do," said Colonna. "As to +the last virtue you have named, there sits a living proof. This +Gerard—I beg your pardon, brother Thingemy—comes from the +north, where men drink like fishes; yet was he ever most abstemious. +And why? Carried an amethyst, the clearest and fullest coloured +e'er I saw on any but noble finger. Where, in Heaven's name, is +thine amethyst? Show it this unbeliever!"</p> + +<p>"And 'twas that amethyst made the boy temperate?" asked +Jerome, ironically.</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Why, what is the derivation and meaning of amethyst? + <ins title="Greek transliteration: a">α</ins> negative, and <ins title="Greek transliteration: methyô">μεθυω</ins> to tipple. Go to, names are but the +signs of things. A stone is not called <ins title="Greek transliteration: amethystos;">αμεθυστοϛ</ins> for two thousand +years out of mere sport, and abuse of language."</p> + +<p>He then went through the prime jewels, illustrating their moral +properties, especially of the ruby, the sapphire, the emerald, and +the opal, by anecdotes out of grave historians.</p> + +<p>"These be old wives' fables," said Jerome, contemptuously. +"Was ever such credulity as thine?"</p> + +<p>Now credulity is a reproach sceptics have often the ill-luck to +incur: but it mortifies them none the less for that.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[519]</a></span></p> + +<p>The believer in stones writhed under it, and dropped the subject. +Then Jerome, mistaking his silence, exhorted him to go a step +farther, and give up from this day his vain pagan lore, and study the +lives of the saints. "Blot out these heathen superstitions from thy +mind, brother, as Christianity hath blotted them from the earth."</p> + +<p>And in this strain he proceeded, repeating, incautiously, some +current but loose theological statements. Then the smarting Polifilo +revenged himself. He flew out, and hurled a mountain of crude, +miscellaneous lore upon Jerome, of which partly for want of time, +partly for lack of learning, I can reproduce but a few fragments.</p> + +<p>"The heathen blotted out? Why they hold four-fifths of the +world. And what have we Christians invented without their aid? +painting? sculpture? these are heathen arts, and we but pigmies at +them. What modern mind can conceive and grave so god-like +forms as did the chief Athenian sculptors, and the Libyan Licas, +and Dinocrates of Macedon, and Scopas, Timotheus, Leochares, +and Briaxis; Chares, Lysippus, and the immortal three of Rhodes, +that wrought Laocoon from a single block? What prince hath the +genius to turn mountains into statues, as was done at Bagistan, and +projected at Athos? what town the soul to plant a colossus of brass +in the sea, for the tallest ships to sail in and out between his legs? +Is it architecture we have invented? Why here too we are but +children. Can we match for pure design the Parthenon, with its +clusters of double and single Doric columns? (I do adore the Doric +when the scale is large), and, for grandeur and finish, the theatres +of Greece and Rome, or the prodigious temples of Egypt, up to +whose portals men walked awe-struck through avenues a mile long +of sphinxes, each as big as a Venetian palace. And all these prodigies +of porphyry cut and polished like crystal, not rough hewn as +in our puny structures. Even now their polished columns and +pilasters lie o'erthrown and broken, o'ergrown with acanthus and +myrtle, but sparkling still, and flouting the slovenly art of modern +workmen. Is it sewers, aqueducts, viaducts?</p> + +<p>"Why we have lost the art of making a road—lost it with the +world's greatest models under our very eye. Is it sepulchres of the +dead? Why no Christian nation has ever erected a tomb, the +sight of which does not set a scholar laughing. Do but think of +the Mausoleum, and the Pyramids, and the monstrous sepulchres +of the Indus and Ganges, which outside are mountains, and within<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[520]</a></span> +are mines of precious stones. Ah, you have not seen the East, +Jerome, or you could not decry the heathen."</p> + +<p>Jerome observed that these were mere material things. True +greatness was in the soul.</p> + +<p>"Well then," replied Colonna, "in the world of mind, what have +we discovered? Is it geometry? Is it logic? Nay, we are all +pupils of Euclid and Aristotle. Is it written characters, an invention +almost divine? We no more invented it than Cadmus did. +Is it poetry? Homer hath never been approached by us, nor hath +Virgil, nor Horace. Is it tragedy or comedy? Why poets, actors, +theatres, all fell to dust at our touch. Have we succeeded in reviving +them? Would you compare our little miserable mysteries and +moralities, all frigid personification and dog Latin, with the glories +of a Greek play (on the decoration of which a hundred thousand +crowns had been spent) performed inside a marble miracle, the +audience a seated city, and the poet a Sophocles?</p> + +<p>"What then have we invented? Is it monotheism? Why the +learned and philosophical among the Greeks and Romans held it; +even their more enlightened poets were monotheists in their sleeves.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<ins title="Greek transliteration: Zeus estin ouranos, Zeus te gê Zeus toi panta">Ζευς εστιν ουρανος, +Ζευς τε γη Ζευς τοι +πανια</ins> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>saith the Greek, and Lucan echoes him:</div> + +<div class='center'> +'Jupiter est quod cunque vides quo cunque moveris.'<br /> +</div> + +<p>"Their vulgar were polytheists; and what are ours? We have +not invented 'invocation of the saints.' Our sancti answer to their +Dæmones and Divi, and the heathen used to pray their Divi or +deified mortals to intercede with the higher divinity; but the ruder +minds among them, incapable of nice distinctions, worshipped those +lesser gods they should have but invoked. And so do the mob of +Christians in our day, following the heathen vulgar by unbroken +tradition. For in holy writ is no polytheism of any sort or kind.</p> + +<p>"We have not invented so much as a form, or variety, of polytheism. +The pagan vulgar worshipped all sorts of deified mortals, +and each had his favourite, to whom he prayed ten times for once +to the Omnipotent. Our vulgar worship canonized mortals, and +each has his favourite, to whom he prays ten times for once to God. +Call you that invention? Invention is confined to the East. +Among the ancient vulgar only the mariners were monotheists; they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[521]</a></span> +worshipped Venus; called her 'Stella maris,' and 'Regina cælorum.' +Among our vulgar only the mariners are monotheists; they worship +the Virgin Mary, and call her 'the Star of the Sea,' and 'the Queen +of Heaven.' Call you theirs a new religion? An old doublet with +a new button. Our vulgar make images, and adore them, which is +absurd; for adoration is the homage due from a creature to its creator; +now here man is the creator; so the statues ought to worship him, +and would, if they had brains enough to justify a rat in worshipping +<i>them</i>. But even this abuse, though childish enough to be modern, +is ancient. The pagan vulgar in these parts made their images, +then knelt before them, adorned them with flowers, offered incense +to them, lighted tapers before them, carried them in procession, +and made pilgrimages to them just to the smallest tittle as we their +imitators do."</p> + +<p>Jerome here broke in impatiently, and reminded him that the +images the most revered in Christendom were made by no mortal +hand, but had dropt from heaven.</p> + +<p>"Ay," cried Colonna, "such are the tutelary images of most +great Italian towns. I have examined nineteen of them, and made +draughts of them. If they came from the sky, our worst sculptors +are our angels. But my mind is easy on that score. Ungainly statue, +or villanous daub fell never yet from heaven to smuggle the bread +out of capable workmen's mouths. All this is Pagan, and arose +thus. The Trojans had oriental imaginations, and feigned that +their Palladium, a wooden statue three cubits long, fell down from +heaven. The Greeks took this fib home among the spoils of Troy, +and soon it rained statues on all the Grecian cities, and their Latin +apes. And one of these Palladia gave St. Paul trouble at Ephesus; +'twas a statue of Diana that fell down from Jupiter: credat qui +credere possit."</p> + +<p>"What would you cast your profane doubts on that picture of +our blessed Lady, which scarce a century agone hung lustrous in +the air over this very city, and was taken down by the Pope and +bestowed in St. Peter's Church?"</p> + +<p>"I have no profane doubts on the matter, Jerome. This is the +story of Numa's shield, revived by theologians with an itch for fiction, +but no talent that way; not being orientals. The 'ancile,' or +sacred shield of Numa hung lustrous in the air over this very city, +till that pious prince took it down and hung it in the temple of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[522]</a></span> +Jupiter. Be just, swallow both stories or neither. The 'Bocca +della Verita' passes for a statue of the Virgin, and convicted a +woman of perjury the other day; it is in reality an image of the +goddess Rhea, and the modern figment is one of its ancient traditions; +swallow both or neither.</p> + +<div class='center'> +'Qui Bavium non odit amet tua carmina, Mavi.'<br /> +</div> + +<p>"But indeed we owe all our Palladiuncula, and all our speaking, +nodding, winking, sweating, bleeding statues to these poor abused +heathens: the Athenian statues all sweated before the battle of +Chæronea, so did the Roman statues during Tully's consulship, viz., +the statue of Victory at Capua, of Mars at Rome, and of Apollo +outside the gates. The Palladium itself was brought to Italy by +Æneas, and after keeping quiet three centuries, made an observation +in Vesta's Temple: a trivial one, I fear, since it hath not survived; +Juno's statue at Veii assented with a nod to go to Rome. +Anthony's statue on Mount Alban bled from every vein in its +marble, before the fight of Actium. Others cured diseases: as that +of Pelichus, derided by Lucian; for the wiser among the heathen +believed in sweating marble, weeping wood, and bleeding brass—as +I do. Of all our marks and dents made in stone by soft substances, +this saint's knee, and that saint's finger, and t'other's head, the +original is heathen. Thus the foot-prints of Hercules were shown +on a rock in Scythia. Castor and Pollux fighting on white horses +for Rome against the Latians, left the prints of their hoofs on a +rock at Regillum. A temple was built to them on the spot, and +the marks were to be seen in Tully's day. You may see near +Venice a great stone cut nearly in half by St. George's sword. This +he ne'er had done but for the old Roman who cut the whetstone in +two with his razor.</p> + +<div class='center'> +'Qui Bavium non odit amet tua carmina, Mavi.'<br /> +</div> + +<p>"Kissing of images, and the Pope's toe, is Eastern Paganism. +The Egyptians had it of the Assyrians, the Greeks of the Egyptians, +the Romans of the Greeks, and we of the Romans, whose Pontifex +Maximus had his toe kissed under the Empire. The Druids kissed +their High Priest's toe a thousand years <span class="smcap">b. c.</span> The Mussulmans, +who like you, profess to abhor Heathenism, kiss the stone of the +Caaba: a Pagan practice.</p> + +<p>"The Priests of Baal kissed their idols so.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[523]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Tully tells us of a fair image of Hercules at Agrigentum, whose +chin was worn by kissing. The lower parts of the statue we call +Peter are Jupiter. The toe is sore worn, but not all by Christian +mouths. The heathen vulgar laid their lips there first, for many a +year, and ours have but followed them, as monkeys their masters. +And that is why, down with the poor heathen! Pereant qui ante +nos nostra fecerint.</p> + +<p>"Our infant baptism is Persian, with the font, and the signing +of the child's brow. Our throwing three handfuls of earth on the +coffin, and saying dust to dust, is Egyptian.</p> + +<p>"Our incense is Oriental, Roman, Pagan; and the early Fathers of +the Church regarded it with superstitious horror, and died for refusing +to handle it. Our holy water is Pagan, and all its uses. See, +here is a Pagan aspersorium. Could you tell it from one of ours? +It stood in the same part of their temples, and was used in ordinary +worship as ours, and in extraordinary purifications. They called +it Aqua lustralis. Their vulgar, like ours, thought drops of it +falling on the body would wash out sin; and their men of sense, like +ours, smiled or sighed at such credulity. What saith Ovid of this +folly, which hath outlived him?</p> + +<div class='poem'> +'Ah nimium faciles, qui tristia crimina cœdis<br /> +Flumineâ tolli posse putetis aquâ.'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>Thou seest the heathen were not <i>all</i> fools. No more are we. Not +<i>all</i>."</div> + +<p>Fra Colonna uttered all this with such volubility, that his hearers +could not edge in a word of remonstrance; and not being interrupted +in praising his favourites, he recovered his good humour, without +any diminution of his volubility.</p> + +<p>"We celebrate the miraculous Conception of the Virgin on the +2nd of February. The old Romans celebrated the miraculous Conception +of Juno on the 2nd of February. Our feast of All Saints +is on the 2nd of November. The Festum Dei Mortis was on the +2nd of November. Our Candlemas is also an old Roman feast: +neither the date nor the ceremony altered one tittle. The patrician +ladies carried candles about the city that night as our signoras do +now. At the gate of San Croce our courtezans keep a feast on the +20th August. Ask them why! The little noodles cannot tell +you. On that very spot stood the Temple of Venus. Her building<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[524]</a></span> +is gone; but her rite remains. Did we discover Purgatory? +On the contrary, all we really know about it is from two treatises +of Plato, the Gorgias and the Phædo, and the sixth book of Virgil's +Æneid."</p> + +<p>"I take it from a holier source: St. Gregory": said Jerome, +sternly.</p> + +<p>"Like enough," replied Colonna, drily. "But St. Gregory was +not so nice; he took it from Virgil. Some souls, saith Gregory, +are purged by fire, others by water, others by air.</p> + +<p>"Says Virgil:—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<span style="margin-left: 5em;">'Aliæ panduntur inanes,</span><br /> +Suspensæ ad ventos, aliis sub gurgite vasto<br /> +Infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni.'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>But peradventure, you think Pope Gregory I. lived before Virgil, +and Virgil versified him.</div> + +<p>"But the doctrine is Eastern, and as much older than Plato as +Plato than Gregory. Our prayers for the dead came from Asia +with Æneas. Ovid tells, that when he prayed for the soul of Anchises, +the custom was strange in Italy.</p> + +<div class='poem'> +'Hunc morem Ænæas, pietatis idoneus auctor<br /> +Attulit in terras, juste Latine, tuas.'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>The 'Biblicæ Sortes,' which I have seen consulted on the altar, +are a parody on the 'Sortes Virgilianæ.' Our numerous altars +in one church are heathen: the Jews, who are monotheists, have but +one altar in a church. But the Pagans had many, being polytheists. +In the temple of Paphian Venus were a hundred of them. 'Centum +que Sabæo thure calent aræ.' Our altars and our hundred +lights around St. Peter's tomb are Pagan. 'Centum aras posuit +vigilemque sacraverat ignem.' We invent nothing, not even numerically. +Our very Devil is the god Pan: horns and hoofs and all; +but blackened. For we cannot draw; we can but daub the figures of +Antiquity with a little sorry paint or soot. Our Moses hath stolen +the horns of Ammon; our Wolfgang the hook of Saturn; and Janus +bore the keys of heaven before St. Peter. All our really old Italian +bronzes of the Virgin and Child are Venuses and Cupids. So is +the wooden statue, that stands hard by this house, of Pope Joan +and the child she is said to have brought forth there in the middle +of a procession. Idiots! are new-born children thirteen years old?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[525]</a></span> +And that boy is not a day younger. Cupid! Cupid! Cupid! And +since you accuse me of credulity, know that to my mind that +Papess is full as mythological, born of froth, and every way unreal, +as the goddess who passes for her in the next street, or as the saints +you call St. Baccho and St. Quirina: or St. Oracte, which is a +dunce-like corruption of Mount Soracte, or St. Amphibolus, an +English saint, which is a dunce-like corruption of the cloak worn +by their St. Alban, or as the Spanish saint, St. Viar, which words +on his tombstone, written thus: 'S. Viar,' prove him no saint, +but a good old nameless heathen, and 'præfectus Viarum,' or overseer +of roads (would he were back to earth, and paganizing of our +Christian roads!), or as our St. Veronica of Benasco, which Veronica +is a dunce-like corruption of the 'Vera icon,' which this saint +brought into the church. I wish it may not be as unreal as the donor, +or as the eleven thousand virgins of Cologne, who were but a couple."</div> + +<p>Clement interrupted him to inquire what he meant. "I have +spoken with those who have seen their bones."</p> + +<p>"What of eleven thousand virgins all collected in one place and +at one time? Do but bethink thee, Clement. Not one of the +great Eastern cities of antiquity could collect eleven thousand +Pagan virgins at one time, far less a puny Western city. Eleven +thousand <i>Christian virgins</i> in a little, wee Paynim city!</p> + +<div class='center'> +'Quod cunque ostendis mihi sic incredulus odi.'<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>The simple sooth is this. The martyrs were two: the Breton princess +herself, falsely called British, and her maid Onesimilla, which +is a Greek name, Onesima, diminished. This some fool did mispronounce +undecim mille, eleven thousand: loose tongue found +credulous ears, and so one fool made many; eleven thousand of +<i>them</i>, an you will. And you charge me with credulity, Jerome? +and bid me read the lives of the saints. Well, I have read them: +and many a dear old Pagan acquaintance I found there. The best +fictions in the book are Oriental, and are known to have been current +in Persia and Arabia eight hundred years and more before the +dates the Church assigns to them as facts. As for the true Western +figments, they lack the Oriental plausibility. Think you I am +credulous enough to believe that St. Ida joined a decapitated head +to its body? that Cuthbert's carcass directed his bearers where to +go, and where to stop; that a city was eaten up of rats to punish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[526]</a></span> +one Hatto for comparing the poor to mice; that angels have a little +horn in their foreheads, and that this was seen and recorded at the +time by St. Veronica of Benasco, who never existed, and hath left +us this information and a miraculous handkercher? For my part, +I think the holiest woman the world ere saw must have an existence +ere she can have a handkercher, or an eye to take unicorns for +angels. Think you I believe that a brace of lions turned sextons and +helped Anthony bury Paul of Thebes? that Patrick, a Scotch saint, +stuck a goat's beard on all the descendants of one that offended him? +that certain thieves, having stolen the convent ram, and denying it, +St. Pol de Leon bade the ram bear witness, and straight the mutton +bleated in the thief's belly? Would you have me give up the skilful +figments of antiquity for such old wives' fables as these? The +ancients lied about animals, too: but then they lied logically; we +unreasonably. Do but compare Ephis and his lion, or, better still, +Androcles and his lion, with Anthony and his two lions. Both the +pagan lions do what lions never did; but at least they act in character. +A lion with a bone in his throat, or a thorn in his foot, could +not do better than be civil to a man. But Anthony's lions are asses +in a lion's skin. What leonine motive could they have in turning +sextons? A lion's business is to make corpses, not inter them." +He added with a sigh, "Our lies are as inferior to the lies of the +ancients as our statues, and for the same reason; we do not study +nature as they did. We are imitatores, servum pecus. Believe you +'the lives of the saints;' that Paul the Theban was the first hermit, +and Anthony the first Cænobite? Why, Pythagoras was an Eremite, +and under ground for seven years: and his daughter was an abbess. +Monks and hermits were in the East long before Moses, and neither +old Greece nor Rome was ever without them. As for St. Francis +and his snowballs, he did but mimic Diogenes, who, naked, embraced +statues on which snow had fallen. The folly without the poetry. +Ape of an ape—for Diogenes was but a mimic therein of the Brahmins +and Indian gymnosophists. Natheless, the children of this +Francis bid fair to pelt us out of the church with their snowballs. +Tell me now, Clement, what habit is lovelier than the vestments of +our priests? Well, we owe them all to Numa Pompilius, except +the girdle and the stole, which are judaical. As for the amice and +the albe, they retain the very names they bore in Numa's day. The +'pelt' worn by the canons comes from primeval Paganism. 'Tis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[527]</a></span> +a relic of those rude times when the sacrificing priest wore the skins +of the beasts with the fur outward. Strip off thy black gown, +Jerome, thy girdle and cowl, for they come to us all three from the +Pagan ladies. Let thy hair grow like Absalom's, Jerome! for the +tonsure is as Pagan as the Muses."</div> + +<p>"Take care what thou sayest," said Jerome, sternly. "We +know the very year in which the church did first ordain it."</p> + +<p>"But not invent it, Jerome. The Brahmins wore it a few thousand +years ere that. From them it came through the Assyrians +to the priests of Isis in Egypt, and afterwards of Serapis at Athens. +The late Pope (the saints be good to him) once told me the tonsure +was forbidden by God to the Levites in the Pentateuch. If so, +this was because of the Egyptian priests wearing it. I trust to his +holiness. I am no biblical scholar. The Latin of thy namesake +Jerome is a barrier I cannot overleap. 'Dixit ad me Dominus +Deus. Dixi ad Dominum Deum.' No, thank you, holy Jerome; I +can stand a good deal, but I cannot stand thy Latin. Nay; give +me the New Testament! 'Tis not the Greek of Xenophon; but +'tis Greek. And there be heathen sayings in it too. For St. Paul +was not so spiteful against them as thou. When the heathen said +a good thing that suited his matter, by Jupiter he just took it, and +mixed it to all eternity with the inspired text."</p> + +<p>"Come forth, Clement, come forth!" said Jerome, rising; "and +thou, profane monk, know that but for the powerful house that +upholds thee, thy accursed heresy should go no farther, for I would +have thee burned at the stake." And he strode out white with indignation.</p> + +<p>Colonna's reception of this threat did credit to him as an enthusiast. +He ran and hallowed joyfully after Jerome. "And <i>that</i> +is Pagan. Burning of men's bodies for the opinions of their souls +is a purely Pagan custom—as Pagan as incense, holy water, a hundred +altars in one church, the tonsure, the cardinal's, or flamen's +hat, the word Pope, the——"</p> + +<p>Here Jerome slammed the door.</p> + +<p>But ere they could get clear of the house a jalosy was flung open, +and the Paynim monk came out head and shoulders, and overhung +the street, shouting—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"'Affecti suppliciis Christiani, genus hominum<br /> +Novæ superstitionis ac maleficæ.'"<br /> +</div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[528]</a></span></p> + +<div class='unindent'>And having delivered this parting blow? he felt a great triumphant +joy, and strode exultant to and fro; and not attending with his usual +care to the fair way (for his room could only be threaded by little +paths wriggling among the antiquities), tripped over the beak of an +Egyptian stork, and rolled upon a regiment of Armenian gods, +which he found tough in argument though small in stature.</div> + +<p>"You will go no more to that heretical monk," said Jerome to +Clement.</p> + +<p>Clement sighed. "Shall we leave him and not try to correct +him? Make allowance for heat of discourse! He was nettled. +His words are worse than his acts. Oh! 'tis a pure and charitable +soul."</p> + +<p>"So are all arch-heretics. Satan does not tempt them like other +men. Rather he makes them more moral, to give their teaching +weight. Fra Colonna cannot be corrected; his family is all-powerful +in Rome. Pray we the saints he blasphemes to enlighten him. +'Twill not be the first time they have returned good for evil. Meantime +thou art forbidden to consort with him. From this day go +alone through the city! Confess and absolve sinners! exorcise +demons! comfort the sick! terrify the impenitent! preach wherever +men are gathered and occasion serves! and hold no converse with the +Fra Colonna!"</p> + +<p>Clement bowed his head.</p> + +<p>Then the prior, at Jerome's request, had the young friar watched. +And one day the spy returned with the news that brother Clement +had passed by the Fra Colonna's lodging, and had stopped a little +while in the street and then gone on, but with his hand to his +eyes, and slowly.</p> + +<p>This report Jerome took to the prior. The prior asked his +opinion, and also Anselm's, who was then taking leave of him on his +return to Juliers.</p> + +<p><i>Jerome.</i>] "Humph! He obeyed, but with regret, ay, with +childish repining."</p> + +<p><i>Anselm.</i>] "He shed a natural tear at turning his back on a +friend and a benefactor. But he obeyed."</p> + +<p>Now Anselm was one of your gentle irresistibles. He had at +times a mild ascendant even over Jerome.</p> + +<p>"Worthy brother Anselm," said Jerome, "Clement is weak to the +very bone. He will disappoint thee. He will do nothing <i>great</i>,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[529]</a></span> +either for the Church or for our holy order. Yet he is an orator, +and hath drunken of the spirit of St. Dominic. Fly him, then, +with a string."</p> + +<p>That same day it was announced to Clement that he was to go to +England immediately with brother Jerome.</p> + +<p>Clement folded his hands on his breast, and bowed his head in +calm submission.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Hearth</div> + + +<div class='cap'>A CATHERINE is not an unmixed good in a strange house. +The governing power is strong in her. She has scarce +crossed the threshold ere the utensils seem to brighten; +the hearth to sweep itself; the windows to let in more light; and +the soul of an enormous cricket to animate the dwelling-place. +But this cricket is a Busy Body. And that is a tremendous +character. It has no discrimination. It sets everything to rights, +and everybody. Now many things are the better for being set to +rights. But everything is not. Everything is the one thing that +won't stand being set to rights; except in that calm and cool retreat, +the grave.</div> + +<p>Catherine altered the position of every chair and table in Margaret's +house; and perhaps for the better.</p> + +<p>But she must go farther and upset the live furniture.</p> + +<p>When Margaret's time was close at hand, Catherine treacherously +invited the aid of Denys and Martin: and, on the poor simple-minded +fellows asking her earnestly what service they could be, she +told them they might make themselves comparatively useful by going +for a little walk. So far so good. But she intimated further +that should the promenade extend into the middle of next week all +the better. This was not ingratiating.</p> + +<p>The subsequent conduct of the strong under the yoke of the weak +might have propitiated a she-bear with three cubs, one sickly. They +generally slipped out of the house at daybreak: and stole in like +thieves at night: and if by any chance they were at home, they +went about like cats on a wall tipped with broken glass, and wearing<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[530]</a></span> +awe-struck visages, and a general air of subjugation and depression.</p> + +<p>But all would not do. Their very presence was ill timed: and +jarred upon Catherine's nerves.</p> + +<p>Did instinct whisper, a pair of depopulators had no business in +a house with multipliers twain?</p> + +<p>The breastplate is no armour against a female tongue: and Catherine +ran infinite pins and needles of speech into them. In a word, +when Margaret came down stairs, she found the kitchen swept of +heroes.</p> + +<p>Martin, old and stiff, had retreated no farther than the street, +and with the honours of war: for he had carried off his baggage, +a stool: and sat on it in the air.</p> + +<p>Margaret saw he was out in the sun: but was not aware he was +a fixture in that luminary. She asked for Denys. "Good, kind +Denys; he will be right pleased to see me about again."</p> + +<p>Catherine, wiping a bowl with now superfluous vigour, told +her Denys was gone to his friends in Burgundy. "And high time. +Hasn't been anigh them this three years, by all accounts."</p> + +<p>"What, gone without bidding me farewell?" said Margaret, opening +two tender eyes like full-blown violets.</p> + +<p>Catherine reddened. For this new view of the matter set her +conscience pricking her.</p> + +<p>But she gave a little toss, and said, "Oh, you were asleep at the +time: and I would not have you wakened."</p> + +<p>"Poor Denys," said Margaret: and the dew gathered visibly on +the open violets.</p> + +<p>Catherine saw out of the corner of her eye, and without taking +a bit of open notice, slipped off and lavished hospitality and tenderness +on the surviving depopulator.</p> + +<p>It was sudden; and Martin old and stiff in more ways than +one.</p> + +<p>"No, thank you, dame. I have got used to out o' doors. And +I love not changing and changing. I meddle wi' nobody here: and +nobody meddles wi' me."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you nasty, cross, old wretch!" screamed Catherine, passing +in a moment from treacle to sharpest vinegar. And she flounced +back into the house.</p> + +<p>On calm reflection she had a little cry. Then she half reconciled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_531" id="Page_531">[531]</a></span> +herself to her conduct by vowing to be so kind Margaret should +never miss her plagues of soldiers. But, feeling still a little uneasy, +she dispersed all regrets by a process at once simple and sovereign.</p> + +<p>She took and washed the child.</p> + +<p>From head to foot she washed him in tepid water: and heroes, +and their wrongs, became as dust in an ocean—of soap and water.</p> + +<p>While this celestial ceremony proceeded, Margaret could not +keep quiet. She hovered round the fortunate performer. She +must have an apparent hand in it, if not a real. She put her finger +into the water—to pave the way for her boy, I suppose; for she +could not have deceived herself so far as to think Catherine would +allow her to settle the temperature. During the ablution she +kneeled down opposite the little Gerard, and prattled to him with +amazing fluency; taking care, however, not to articulate like grown-up +people; for, how could a cherub understand <i>their</i> ridiculous +pronunciation?</p> + +<p>"I wish you could wash out <span class="smcap">that</span>," said she, fixing her eyes on +the little boy's hand.</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"What, have you not noticed? on his little finger."</p> + +<p>Granny looked, and there was a little brown mole.</p> + +<p>"Eh! but this is wonderful!" she cried. "Nature, my lass, y' +are strong; and meddlesome to boot. Hast noticed such a mark on +some one else. Tell the truth, girl!"</p> + +<p>"What, on <i>him?</i> Nay, mother, not I."</p> + +<p>"Well then he has; and on the very spot. And you never noticed +that much. But, dear heart, I forgot; you han't known him from +child to man as I have. I have had him hundreds o' times on my +knees, the same as this, and washed him from top to toe in lu-warm +water." And she swelled with conscious superiority; and Margaret +looked meekly up to her as a woman beyond competition.</p> + +<p>Catherine looked down from her dizzy height, and moralized. +She differed from other busy-bodies in this, that she now and then +reflected: not deeply; or of course I should take care not to print it.</p> + +<p>"It is strange," said she, "how things come round and about. +Life is but a whirligig. Leastways, we poor women, <i>our</i> lives are +cut upon one pattern. Wasn't I for washing out my Gerard's mole +in his young days? 'Oh, fie! her's a foul blot,' quo' I; and +scrubbed away at it I did till I made the poor wight cry; so then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_532" id="Page_532">[532]</a></span> +I thought 'twas time to give over. And now says you to me, +'Mother,' says you, 'do try and wash yon out o' my Gerard's finger,' +says you. Think on't!"</p> + +<p>"Wash it out?" cried Margaret; "I wouldn't for all the world. +Why it is the sweetest bit in his little darling body. I'll kiss it +morn and night till he, that owned it first, comes back to us three. +Oh, bless you, my jewel of gold and silver, for being marked like +your own daddy to comfort me."</p> + +<p>And she kissed little Gerard's little mole; but she could not stop +there; she presently had him sprawling on her lap, and kissed his +back all over again and again, and seemed to worry him as wolf +a lamb; Catherine looking on and smiling. She had seen a good +many of these savage onslaughts in her day.</p> + +<p>And this little sketch indicates the tenor of Margaret's life for +several months. One or two small things occurred to her during +that time, which must be told; but I reserve them, since one string +will serve for many glass beads. But, while her boy's father was +passing through those fearful tempests of the soul ending in the +dead monastic calm, her life might fairly be summed in one great +blissful word—</p> + +<p>Maternity.</p> + +<p>You, who know what lies in that word, enlarge my little sketch, +and see the young mother nursing and washing, and dressing and undressing, +and crowing and gambolling with her first-born; then +swifter than lightning dart your eye into Italy, and see the cold +cloister; and the monks passing like ghosts, eyes down, hands meekly +crossed over bosoms dead to earthly feelings.</p> + +<p>One of these cowled ghosts is he, whose return, full of love and +youth, and joy, that radiant young mother awaits.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>In the valley of Grindelwald the traveller has on one side the +perpendicular Alps, all rock, ice, and everlasting snow, towering +above the clouds, and piercing to the sky; on his other hand little +every-day slopes, but green as emeralds, and studded with cows, and +pretty cots, and life; whereas those lofty neighbours stand leafless, +lifeless, inhuman, sublime. Elsewhere sweet commonplaces of nature +are apt to pass unnoticed; but, fronting the grim Alps, they soothe, +and even gently strike, the mind by contrast with their tremendous +opposites. Such, in their way, are the two halves of this story,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533">[533]</a></span> +rightfully looked at; on the Italian side rugged adventure, strong +passion, blasphemy, vice, penitence, pure ice, holy snow, soaring +direct at heaven. On the Dutch side, all on a humble scale and +womanish, but ever green. And as a pathway parts the ice towers +of Grindelwald, aspiring to the sky, from its little sunny braes, so +here is but a page between "the Cloister and the Hearth."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXVI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Cloister</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE new pope favoured the Dominican order. The +convent received a message from the Vatican, requiring +a capable friar to teach at the university of Basle. Now +Clement was the very monk for this: well versed in languages, and +in his worldly days had attended the lectures of Guarini the younger. +His visit to England was therefore postponed, though not resigned; +and meantime he was sent to Basle: but not being wanted there +for three months, he was to preach on the road.</div> + +<p>He passed out of the northern gate with his eyes lowered, and +the whole man wrapped in pious contemplation.</p> + +<p>Oh, if we could paint a mind and its story, what a walking fresco +was this bare-footed friar!</p> + +<p>Hopeful, happy love, bereavement, despair, impiety, vice, suicide, +remorse, religious despondency, penitence, death to the world, resignation.</p> + +<p>And all in twelve short months.</p> + +<p>And now the traveller was on foot again. But all was changed: +no perilous adventures now. The very thieves and robbers bowed +to the ground before him, and, instead of robbing him, forced stolen +money on him, and begged his prayers.</p> + +<p>This journey therefore furnished few picturesque incidents. I +have, however, some readers to think of, who care little for melodrama, +and expect a quiet peep at what passes inside a man. To +such students things undramatic are often vocal, denoting the progress +of a mind.</p> + +<p>The first Sunday of Clement's journey was marked by this. He +prayed for the soul of Margaret. He had never done so before.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[534]</a></span> +Not that her eternal welfare was not dearer to him than anything +on earth. It was his humility. The terrible impieties that burst +from him on the news of her death horrified my well-disposed readers; +but not as on reflection they horrified him who had uttered +them. For a long time during his novitiate he was oppressed with +religious despair. He thought he must have committed that sin +against the Holy Spirit which dooms the soul for ever. By degrees +that dark cloud cleared away, Anselmo juvante: but deep self-abasement +remained. He felt his own salvation insecure, and moreover +thought it would be mocking Heaven, should he, the deeply stained, +pray for a soul so innocent, comparatively, as Margaret's. So he +used to coax good Anselm and another kindly monk to pray for her. +They did not refuse, nor do it by halves. In general the good old +monks (and there were good, bad, and indifferent, in every convent) +had a pure and tender affection for their younger brethren, which, in +truth, was not of this world.</p> + +<p>Clement then, having preached on Sunday morning in a small +Italian town, and being mightily carried onward, was greatly encouraged; +and that day a balmy sense of God's forgiveness and +love descended on him. And he prayed for the welfare of Margaret's +soul. And from that hour this became his daily habit, and +the one purified tie, that by memory connected his heart with earth.</p> + +<p>For his family were to him as if they had never been.</p> + +<p>The Church would not share with earth. Nor could even the +Church cure the great love without annihilating the smaller ones.</p> + +<p>During most of this journey Clement rarely felt any spring of +life within him, but when he was in the pulpit. The other exceptions +were, when he happened to relieve some fellow-creature.</p> + +<p>A young man was tarantula bitten, or perhaps, like many more, +fancied it. Fancy or reality, he had been for two days without +sleep, and in most extraordinary convulsions, leaping, twisting, and +beating the walls. The village musicians had only excited him +worse with their music. Exhaustion and death followed the disease, +when it gained such a head. Clement passed by and learned what +was the matter. He sent for a psaltery, and tried the patient with +soothing melodies; but, if the other tunes maddened him, Clement's +seem to crush him. He groaned and moaned under them, and +grovelled on the floor. At last the friar observed that at intervals<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[535]</a></span> +his lips kept going. He applied his ear, and found the patient was +whispering a tune; and a very singular one, that had no existence. +He learned this tune, and played it. The patient's face brightened +amazingly. He marched about the room on the light fantastic toe +enjoying it; and when Clement's fingers ached nearly off with playing +it, he had the satisfaction of seeing the young man sink complacently +to sleep to this lullaby, the strange creation of his own mind; +for it seems he was no musician, and never composed a tune before +or after. This sleep saved his life. And Clement, after teaching +the tune to another, in case it should be wanted again, went forward +with his heart a little warmer. On another occasion he found a +mob haling a decently-dressed man along, who struggled and vociferated, +but in a strange language. This person had walked into +their town erect and sprightly, waving a mulberry branch over +his head. Thereupon the natives first gazed stupidly, not believing +their eyes, then pounced on him and dragged him before the podesta.</p> + +<p>Clement went with them: but on the way drew quietly near the +prisoner and spoke to him in Italian; no answer. In French; +German; Dutch; no assets. Then the man tried Clement in tolerable +Latin, but with a sharpish accent. He said he was an Englishman, +and, oppressed with the heat of Italy, had taken a bough off +the nearest tree, to save his head. "In my country anybody is +welcome to what grows on the highway. Confound the fools; I am +ready to pay for it. But here is all Italy up in arms about a twig +and a handful of leaves."</p> + +<p>The pig-headed podesta would have sent the dogged islander to +prison: but Clement mediated, and with some difficulty made the +prisoner comprehend that silkworms, and by consequence mulberry +leaves, were sacred, being under the wing of the Sovereign, and his +source of income; and urged on the podesta that ignorance of his +mulberry laws was natural in a distant country, where the very +tree perhaps was unknown. The opinionative islander turned the +still vibrating scale by pulling out a long purse and repeating his +original theory, that the whole question was mercantile. "Quid +damni?" said he. "Dic; et cito solvam." The podesta snuffed the +gold: fined him a ducat for the duke; about the value of the whole +tree: and pouched the coin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536">[536]</a></span></p> + +<p>The Englishman shook off his ire the moment he was liberated, +and laughed heartily at the whole thing: but was very grateful to +Clement.</p> + +<p>"You are too good for this hole of a country, father," said he. +"Come to England! That is the only place in the world. I was an +uneasy fool to leave it, and wander among mulberries and their +idiots. I am a Kentish squire, and educated at Cambridge University. +My name it is Rolfe, my place Betshanger. The man and +the house are both at your service. Come over and stay till domesday. +We sit down forty to dinner every day at Betshanger. One +more or one less at the board will not be seen. You shall end your +days with me and my heirs if you will. Come now! What an +Englishman says he means." And he gave him a great hearty grip +of the hand to confirm it.</p> + +<p>"I will visit thee some day, my son," said Clement: "but not +to weary thy hospitality."</p> + +<p>The Englishman then begged Clement to shrive him. "I know +not what will become of my soul," said he. "I live like a heathen +since I left England."</p> + +<p>Clement consented gladly, and soon the islander was on his knees +to him by the road-side, confessing the last month's sins.</p> + +<p>Finding him so pious a son of the Church, Clement let him know +he was really coming to England. He then asked him whether it +was true that country was overrun with Lollards and Wickliffites.</p> + +<p>The other coloured up a little. "There be black sheep in every +land," said he. Then after some reflection he said, gravely, "Holy +father, hear the truth about these heretics. None are better disposed +towards holy Church than we English. But we are ourselves, +and by ourselves. We love our own ways, and, above all, our own +tongue. The Norman could conquer our billhooks, but not our +tongues; and hard they tried it for many a long year by law and +proclamation. Our good foreign priests utter God to plain English +folk in Latin, or in some French or Italian lingo, like the bleating of +a sheep. Then come the fox Wickliff and his crew, and read him +out of his own book in plain English, that all men's hearts warm to. +Who can withstand this? God forgive me, I believe the English +would turn deaf ears to St. Peter himself, spoke he not to them in +the tongue their mothers sowed in their ears and their hearts along +with mothers' kisses." He added hastily, "I say not this for myself;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[537]</a></span> +I am Cambridge bred; and good words come not amiss to me +in Latin; but for the people in general. Clavis ad corda Anglorum +est lingua materna."</p> + +<p>"My son," said Clement, "blessed be the hour I met thee; for thy +words are sober and wise. But, alas! how shall I learn your English +tongue? No book have I."</p> + +<p>"I would give you my book of hours, father. 'Tis in English and +Latin, cheek by jowl. But, then, what would become of my poor +soul, wanting my 'hours' in a strange land? Stay, you are a holy +man, and I am an honest one; let us make a bargain; you to pray +for me every day for two months, and I to give you my book of +hours. Here it is. What say you to that?" And his eyes sparkled, +and he was all on fire with mercantility.</p> + +<p>Clement smiled gently at this trait: and quietly detached a MS. +from his girdle, and showed him that it was in Latin and Italian.</p> + +<p>"See, my son," said he, "Heaven hath foreseen our several needs, +and given us the means to satisfy them: let us change books; and, +my dear son, I will give thee my poor prayers and welcome, not +sell them thee. I love not religious bargains."</p> + +<p>The islander was delighted. "So shall I learn the Italian tongue +without risk to my eternal weal. Near is my purse, but nearer is +my soul."</p> + +<p>He forced money on Clement. In vain the friar told him it was +contrary to his vow to carry more of that than was barely necessary.</p> + +<p>"Lay it out for the good of the Church and of my soul," said the +islander. "I ask you not to keep it, but take it you must and shall." +And he grasped Clement's hand warmly again: and Clement kissed +him on the brow, and blessed him, and they went each his way.</p> + +<p>About a mile from where they parted, Clement found two tired +wayfarers lying in the deep shade of a great chestnut-tree, one of a +thick grove the road skirted. Near the men was a little cart, and +in it a printing-press, rude and clumsy as a vine-press. A jaded +mule was harnessed to the cart.</p> + +<p>And so Clement stood face to face with his old enemy.</p> + +<p>And as he eyed it, and the honest, blue-eyed faces of the wearied +craftsmen, he looked back as on a dream at the bitterness he had +once felt towards this machine. He looked kindly down on them, +and said, softly,</p> + +<p>"Sweynheim!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[538]</a></span></p> + +<p>The men started to their feet.</p> + +<p>"Pannartz!"</p> + +<p>They scuttled into the wood, and were seen no more.</p> + +<p>Clement was amazed, and stood puzzling himself.</p> + +<p>Presently a face peeped from behind a tree.</p> + +<p>Clement addressed it. "What fear ye?"</p> + +<p>A quavering voice replied, "Say, rather, by what magic you, a +stranger, can call us by our names! I never clapt eyes on you till +now."</p> + +<p>"O superstition! I know ye, as all good workmen are known—by +your works. Come hither and I will tell ye."</p> + +<p>They advanced gingerly from different sides; each regulating his +advance by the other's.</p> + +<p>"My children," said Clement, "I saw a Lactantius in Rome, +printed by Sweynheim and Pannartz, disciples of Fust."</p> + +<p>"D'ye hear that, Pannartz? our work has gotten to Rome already."</p> + +<p>"By your blue eyes and flaxen hair I wist ye were Germans: and +the printing-press spoke for itself. Who then should ye be but +Fust's disciples, Pannartz and Sweynheim?"</p> + +<p>The honest Germans were now astonished that they had suspected +magic in so simple a matter.</p> + +<p>"The good father hath his wits about him, that is all," said Pannartz.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said Sweynheim, "and with those wits would he could tell +us how to get this tired beast to the next town."</p> + +<p>"Yea," said Sweynheim, "and where to find money to pay for +his meat and ours when we get there."</p> + +<p>"I will try," said Clement. "Free the mule of the cart, and of +all harness but the bare halter."</p> + +<p>This was done, and the animal immediately lay down and rolled +on his back in the dust like a kitten. Whilst he was thus employed, +Clement assured them he would rise up a new mule. "His Creator +hath taught him this art to refresh himself, which the nobler horse +knoweth not. Now, with regard to money, know that a worthy Englishman +hath intrusted me with a certain sum to bestow in charity. +To whom can I better give a stranger's money than to strangers? +Take it, then, and be kind to some Englishman or other stranger +in his need; and may all nations learn to love one another one day."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[539]</a></span></p> + +<p>The tears stood in the honest workmen's eyes. They took the +money with heartfelt thanks.</p> + +<p>"It is your nation we are bound to thank and bless, good Father, +if we but knew it."</p> + +<p>"My nation is the Church."</p> + +<p>Clement was then for bidding them farewell, but the honest fellows +implored him to wait a little; they had no silver nor gold, but +they had something they could give their benefactor. They took +the press out of the cart, and, while Clement fed the mule, they +bustled about, now on the white hot road, now in the deep cool +shade, now half in and half out, and presently printed a quarto +sheet of eight pages, which was already set up. They had not type +enough to print two sheets at a time. When, after the slower preliminaries, +the printed sheet was pulled all in a moment, Clement +was amazed in turn.</p> + +<p>"What are all these words really fast upon the paper?" said he. +"Is it verily certain they will not go as swiftly as they came? And +<i>you</i> took <i>me</i> for a magician! 'Tis 'Augustine de civitate Dei.' My +sons, you carry here the very wings of knowledge. Oh, never abuse +this great craft! Print no ill books! They would fly abroad countless +as locusts, and lay waste men's souls."</p> + +<p>The workmen said they would sooner put their hands under the +screw than so abuse their goodly craft.</p> + +<p>And so they parted.</p> + +<p>There is nothing but meeting and parting in this world.</p> + +<p>At a town in Tuscany the holy friar had a sudden and strange rencontre +with the past. He fell in with one of those motley assemblages +of patricians and plebeians, piety and profligacy, "a company +of pilgrims"; a subject too well painted by others for me to go and +daub.</p> + +<p>They were in an immense barn belonging to the inn. Clement, +dusty and wearied, and no lover of idle gossip, sat in a corner studying +the Englishman's hours, and making them out as much by his +own Dutch as by the Latin version.</p> + +<p>Presently a servant brought a bucket half full of water, and put +it down at his feet. A female servant followed with two towels. +And then a woman came forward, and, crossing herself, kneeled +down without a word at the bucket-side, removed her sleeves entirely,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540">[540]</a></span> +and motioned to him to put his feet into the water. It was some +lady of rank doing penance. She wore a mask scarce an inch broad, +but effectual. Moreover, she handled the friar's feet more delicately +than those do who are born to such offices.</p> + +<p>These penances were not uncommon; and Clement, though he +had little faith in this form of contrition, received the services of +the incognita as a matter of course. But presently she sighed +deeply, and, with her heartfelt sigh and her head bent low over her +menial office, she seemed so bowed with penitence, that he pitied her +and said, calmly but gently, "Can I aught for your soul's weal, +my daughter?"</p> + +<p>She shook her head with a faint sob. "Nought, holy father, +nought: only to hear the sin of her who is most unworthy to touch +thy holy feet. 'Tis part of my penance to tell sinless men how +vile I am."</p> + +<p>"Speak, my daughter."</p> + +<p>"Father," said the lady, bending lower and lower, "these hands of +mine look white, but they are stained with blood,—the blood of the +man I loved. Alas! you withdraw your foot. Ah me! What +shall I do? All holy things shrink from me."</p> + +<p>"Culpa mea! culpa mea!" said Clement eagerly. "My daughter, +it was an unworthy movement of earthly weakness, for which <i>I</i> shall +do penance. Judge not the Church by her feebler servants. Not +her foot, but her bosom, is offered to thee, repenting truly. Take +courage, then, and purge thy conscience of his load."</p> + +<p>On this the lady, in a trembling whisper, and hurriedly, and cringing +a little, as if she feared the Church would strike her bodily for +what she had done, made this confession.</p> + +<p>"He was a stranger, and base-born, but beautiful as Spring, and +wise beyond his years. I loved him. I had not the prudence to +conceal my love. Nobles courted me. I ne'er thought one of +humble birth could reject me. I showed him my heart; oh, shame +of my sex! He drew back; yet he admired me: but innocently. +He loved another: and he was constant. I resorted to a woman's +wiles. They availed not. I borrowed the wickedness of men, and +threatened his life, and to tell his true lover he died false to her. +Ah! you shrink; your foot trembles. Am I not a monster? Then +he wept and prayed to me for mercy; then my good angel helped me; +I bade him leave Rome. Gerard, Gerard, why did you not obey me?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[541]</a></span> +I thought he was gone. But two months after this I met him. +Never shall I forget it. I was descending the Tiber in my galley, +when he came up it with a gay company, and at his side a woman +beautiful as an angel, but bold and bad. That woman claimed me +aloud for her rival. Traitor and hypocrite, he had exposed me to +her, and to all the loose tongues in Rome. In terror and revenge +I hired—a bravo. When he was gone on his bloody errand, I +wavered too late. The dagger I had hired struck. He never came +back to his lodgings. He was dead. Alas! perhaps he was not so +much to blame: none have ever cast his name in my teeth. His poor +body is not found: or I should kiss its wounds; and slay myself +upon it. All around his very name seems silent as the grave, to +which this murderous hand has sent him." (Clement's eyes were +drawn by her movement. He recognized her shapely arm, and soft +white hand.) "And oh! he was so young to die. A poor thoughtless +boy, that had fallen a victim to that bad woman's arts, and she +had made him tell her everything. Monster of cruelty, what penance +can avail me? Oh, holy father, what shall I do?"</p> + +<p>Clement's lips moved in prayer, but he was silent. He could not +see his duty clear.</p> + +<p>Then she took his feet and began to dry them. She rested his +foot upon her soft arm, and pressed it with the towel so gently she +seemed incapable of hurting a fly. Yet her lips had just told another +story, and a true one.</p> + +<p>While Clement was still praying for wisdom, a tear fell upon his +foot. It decided him. "My daughter," said he, "I myself have +been a great sinner."</p> + +<p>"You, father?"</p> + +<p>"I; quite as great a sinner as thou; though not in the same way. +The devil has gins and snares, as well as traps. But penitence +softened my impious heart, and then gratitude remoulded it. Therefore, +seeing you penitent, I hope you can be grateful to Him, who +has been more merciful to you than you have to your fellow-creature. +Daughter, the Church sends you comfort."</p> + +<p>"Comfort to me? ah! never! unless it can raise my victim from +the dead."</p> + +<p>"Take this crucifix in thy hand, fix thine eyes on it, and listen to +me," was all the reply.</p> + +<p>"Yes, father; but let me thoroughly dry your feet first: 'tis ill<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[542]</a></span> +sitting in wet feet: and you are the holiest man of all whose feet +I have washed. I know it by your voice."</p> + +<p>"Woman, I am not. As for my feet, they can wait their turn. +Obey thou me!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, father," said the lady, humbly. But with a woman's evasive +pertinacity she wreathed one towel swiftly round the foot she +was drying, and placed his other foot on the dry napkin; then obeyed +his command.</p> + +<p>And, as she bowed over the crucifix, the low, solemn, tones of the +friar fell upon her ear, and his words soon made her whole body +quiver with various emotions, in quick succession.</p> + +<p>"My daughter, he you murdered—in intent—was one Gerard, a +Hollander. He loved a creature, as man should love none but their +Redeemer and his Church. Heaven chastised him. A letter came +to Rome. She was dead."</p> + +<p>"Poor Gerard! Poor Margaret!" moaned the penitent.</p> + +<p>Clement's voice faltered at this a moment. But soon, by a +strong effort, he recovered all his calmness.</p> + +<p>"His feeble nature yielded, body and soul, to the blow. He was +stricken down with fever. He revived only to rebel against Heaven. +He said 'There is no God.'"</p> + +<p>"Poor, poor, Gerard!"</p> + +<p>"Poor Gerard? thou feeble, foolish woman! Nay, wicked, impious +Gerard. He plunged into vice, and soiled his eternal jewel: +those you met him with were his daily companions: but know, rash +creature, that the seeming woman you took to be his leman was but +a boy, dressed in woman's habits to flout the others, a fair boy called +Andrea. What that Andrea said to thee I know not; but be sure +neither he, <i>nor any layman</i>, knows thy folly. This Gerard, rebel +against Heaven, was no traitor to thee, unworthy."</p> + +<p>The lady moaned like one in bodily agony, and the crucifix began +to tremble in her trembling hands.</p> + +<p>"Courage!" said Clement. "Comfort is at hand.</p> + +<p>"From crime he fell into despair, and, bent on destroying his soul, +he stood one night by Tiber, resolved on suicide. He saw one watching +him. It was a bravo."</p> + +<p>"Holy saints!"</p> + +<p>"He begged the bravo to despatch him; he offered him all his +money, to slay him body and soul. The bravo would not. Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_543" id="Page_543">[543]</a></span> +this desperate sinner, not softened even by that refusal, flung himself +into Tiber."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"And the assassin saved his life. Thou hadst chosen for the task +Lodovico, husband of Teresa, whom this Gerard had saved at sea, +her and her infant child."</p> + +<p>"He lives! he lives! he lives! I am faint."</p> + +<p>The friar took the crucifix from her hands, fearing it might +fall. A shower of tears relieved her. The friar gave her time; +then continued, calmly. "Ay, he lives; thanks to thee and thy wickedness, +guided to his eternal good by an almighty and all-merciful +hand. Thou art his greatest earthly benefactor."</p> + +<p>"Where is he? where? where?"</p> + +<p>"What is that to thee?"</p> + +<p>"Only to see him alive. To beg him on my knees forgive me. I +swear to you I will never presume again to—How could I? He +knows all. Oh, shame! Father, <i>does</i> he know?"</p> + +<p>"All."</p> + +<p>"Then never will I meet his eye; I should sink into the earth. +But I would repair my crime. I would watch his life unseen. He +shall rise in the world, whence I so nearly thrust him, poor soul; +the Cæsare, my family, are all-powerful in Rome; and I am near +their head."</p> + +<p>"My daughter," said Clement, coldly, "he you call Gerard needs +nothing man can do for him. Saved by a miracle from double +death, he has left the world, and taken refuge from sin and folly +in the bosom of the Church."</p> + +<p>"A priest?"</p> + +<p>"A priest, and a friar."</p> + +<p>"A friar? Then you are not his confessor? Yet you know all. +That gentle voice!"</p> + +<p>She raised her head slowly, and peered at him through her mask.</p> + +<p>The next moment she uttered a faint shriek, and lay with her brow +upon his bare feet.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_544" id="Page_544">[544]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>CLEMENT sighed. He began to doubt whether he had taken +the wisest course with a creature so passionate.</div> + +<p>But young as he was, he had already learned many lessons +of ecclesiastical wisdom. For one thing he had been taught +to pause: <i>i. e.</i>, in certain difficulties, neither to do nor say anything, +until the matter should clear itself a little.</p> + +<p>He therefore held his peace and prayed for wisdom.</p> + +<p>All he did was gently to withdraw his foot.</p> + +<p>But his penitent flung her arms round it with a piteous cry, and +held convulsively, and wept over it.</p> + +<p>And now the agony of shame, as well as penitence, she was in, +showed itself by the bright red that crept over her very throat, as +she lay quivering at his feet.</p> + +<p>"My daughter," said Clement gently, "take courage. Torment +thyself no more about this Gerard, who is not. As for me, I am +brother Clement, whom Heaven hath sent to thee this day to comfort +thee, and help thee save thy soul. Thou hast made me thy confessor. +I claim, then, thine obedience."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," sobbed the penitent.</p> + +<p>"Leave this pilgrimage, and instant return to Rome. Penitence +abroad is little worth. There where we live lie the temptations we +must defeat, or perish; not fly in search of others more showy, but +less lethal. Easy to wash the feet of strangers, masked ourselves. +Hard to be merely meek and charitable with those about us."</p> + +<p>"I'll never, never, lay finger on her again."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I speak not of servants only, but of dependents, kinsmen, +friends. This be thy penance; the last thing at night, and the first +thing after matins, call to mind thy sin, and God his goodness; +and so be humble, and gentle to the faults of those around thee. The +world it courts the rich; but seek thou the poor: not beggars; these +for the most are neither honest nor truly poor. But rather find out +those who blush to seek thee, yet need thee sore. Giving to them +shalt lend to Heaven. Marry a good son of the Church."</p> + +<p>"Me? I will never marry."</p> + +<p>"Thou wilt marry within the year. I do entreat and command<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_545" id="Page_545">[545]</a></span> +thee to marry one that feareth God. For thou art very clay. +Mated ill thou shalt be nought. But wedding a worthy husband +thou mayest, Dei gratiâ, live a pious princess; ay, and die a saint."</p> + +<p>"I?"</p> + +<p>"Thou."</p> + +<p>He then desired her to rise and go about the good work he had set +her.</p> + +<p>She rose to her knees, and, removing her mask, cast an eloquent +look upon him, then lowered her eyes meekly.</p> + +<p>"I will obey you as I would an angel. How happy I am, yet +unhappy; for oh my heart tells me I shall never look on you again. +I will not go till I have dried your feet."</p> + +<p>"It needs not. I have excused thee this bootless penance."</p> + +<p>"'Tis no penance to me. Ah! you do not forgive me, if you will +not let me dry your poor feet."</p> + +<p>"So be it then," said Clement, resignedly; and thought to himself +"Levius quid fœminâ."</p> + +<p>But these weak creatures, that gravitate towards the small, as +heavenly bodies towards the great, have yet their own flashes of +angelic intelligence.</p> + +<p>When the princess had dried the friar's feet, she looked at him +with tears in her beautiful eyes, and murmured with singular tenderness +and goodness—</p> + +<p>"I will have masses said for her soul. May I?" she added timidly.</p> + +<p>This brought a faint blush into the monk's cheek, and moistened +his cold blue eye. It came so suddenly from one he was just rating +so low.</p> + +<p>"It is a gracious thought," he said. "Do as thou wilt: often such +acts fall back on the doer like blessed dew. I am thy confessor; not +hers; thine is the soul I must now do my all to save, or woe be to +my own. My daughter, my dear daughter, I see good and ill angels +fighting for thy soul this day, ay, this moment; oh, fight thou on +thine own side. Doth thou remember all I bade thee?"</p> + +<p>"Remember!" said the princess. "Sweet saint, each syllable of +thine is graved in my heart."</p> + +<p>"But one word more then. Pray much to Christ, and little to +his saints."</p> + +<p>"I will."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_546" id="Page_546">[546]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And that is the best word I have light to say to thee. So part +we on it. Thou to the place becomes thee best, thy father's house: I +to my holy mother's work."</p> + +<p>"Adieu," faltered the princess. "Adieu thou that I have loved too +well, hated too ill, known and revered too late; forgiving angel +adieu—for ever."</p> + +<p>The monk caught her words, though but faltered in a sigh.</p> + +<p>"FOR EVER?" he cried aloud with sudden ardour. "Christians +live 'FOR EVER,' and love 'FOR EVER,' but they never part +'FOR EVER.' They part, as part the earth and sun, to meet more +brightly in a little while. You and I part here for life. And what +is our life? One line in the great story of the Church, whose son +and daughter we are; one handful in the sand of time, one drop +in the ocean of 'FOR EVER.' Adieu—for the little moment +called 'a life!' We part in trouble, we shall meet in peace: we part +creatures of clay, we shall meet immortal spirits: we part in a +world of sin and sorrow, we shall meet where all is purity and love +divine; where no ill passions are, but Christ is, and his saints around +him clad in white. There, in the turning of an hour-glass, in the +breaking of a bubble, in the passing of a cloud, she, and thou, and +I, shall meet again; and sit at the feet of angels and archangels, +apostles and saints, and beam like them with joy unspeakable, in +the light of the shadow of God upon his throne, FOR EVER—AND +EVER—AND EVER."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>And so they parted. The monk erect, his eyes turned heavenwards +and glowing with the sacred fire of zeal; the princess slowly +retiring and turning more than once to cast a lingering glance +of awe and tender regret on that inspired figure.</p> + +<p>She went home subdued, and purified. Clement, in due course, +reached Basle, and entered on his duties, teaching in the University, +and preaching in the town and neighbourhood. He led a life that +can be comprised in two words; deep study, and mortification. My +reader has already a peep into his soul. At Basle he advanced in +holy zeal and knowledge.</p> + +<p>The brethren of his order began to see in him a descendant of the +saints and martyrs.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_547" id="Page_547">[547]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXVIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Hearth</div> + + +<div class='cap'>WHEN little Gerard was nearly three months old, a messenger +came hot from Tergou for Catherine.</div> + +<p>"Now just you go back," said she, "and tell them I +can't come and I won't: they have got Kate." So he departed, and +Catherine continued her sentence; "there, child, I <i>must</i> go: they are +all at sixes and sevens: this is the third time of asking; and to-morrow +my man would come himself and take me home by the ear, with +a flea in't." She then recapitulated her experiences of infants, and +instructed Margaret what to do in each coming emergency, and +pressed money upon her. Margaret declined it with thanks. Catherine +insisted, and turned angry. Margaret made excuses all +so reasonable that Catherine rejected them with calm contempt; to +her mind they lacked femininity. "Come, out with your heart," +said she; "and you and me parting; and mayhap shall never see +one another's face again."</p> + +<p>"Oh! mother, say not so."</p> + +<p>"Alack, girl, I have seen it so often; 'twill come into my mind +now at each parting. When I was your age, I never had such a +thought. Nay, we were all to live for ever then: so out wi' it."</p> + +<p>"Well then, mother—I would rather not have told you—your +Cornelis must say to me, 'So you are come to share with us, eh, +mistress?' those were his words. I told him I would be very sorry."</p> + +<p>"Beshrew his ill tongue! What signifies it? He will never +know."</p> + +<p>"Most likely he would sooner or later. But, whether or no, I +will take no grudge bounty from any family; unless I saw my child +starving, and then Heaven only knows what I might do. Nay, +mother, give me but thy love—I do prize that above silver, and they +grudge me not that, by all I can find—for not a stiver of money +will I take out of your house."</p> + +<p>"You are a foolish lass. Why, were it me, I'd take it just to +spite him."</p> + +<p>"No, you would not. You and I are apples off one tree."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_548" id="Page_548">[548]</a></span></p> + +<p>Catherine yielded with a good grace; and, when the actual parting +came, embraces and tears burst forth on both sides.</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 411px;"> +<img src="images/illus585.jpg" width="411" height="600" alt="MARGARET HAD MOMENTS OF BLISS" title="" /> +<span class="caption">MARGARET HAD MOMENTS OF BLISS</span> +</div> + +<p>When she was gone the child cried a good deal; and all attempts +to pacify him failing, Margaret suspected a pin, and, searching between +his clothes and his skin, found a gold angel incommoding his +backbone.</p> + +<p>"There now, Gerard," said she to the babe; "I <i>thought</i> granny +gave in rather <i>sudden</i>."</p> + +<p>She took the coin and wrapped it in a piece of linen, and laid it +at the bottom of her box, bidding the infant observe she could be +at times as resolute as granny herself.</p> + +<p>Catherine told Eli of Margaret's foolish pride, and how she had +baffled it. Eli said Margaret was right, and she was wrong. Catherine +tossed her head. Eli pondered.</p> + +<p>Margaret was not without domestic anxieties. She had still +two men to feed, and could not work so hard as she had done. She +had enough to do to keep the house, and the child, and cook for +them all. But she had a little money laid by, and she used to tell +her child his father would be home to help them before it was spent. +And with these bright hopes, and that treasury of bliss, her boy, she +spent some happy months.</p> + +<p>Time wore on: and no Gerard came; and, stranger still, no news +of him.</p> + +<p>Then her mind was disquieted, and, contrary to her nature, which +was practical, she was often lost in sad reverie; and sighed in silence. +And, while her heart was troubled, her money was melting. +And so it was, that one day she found the cupboard empty, and +looked in her dependents' faces; and, at the sight of them, her bosom +was all pity; and she appealed to the baby whether she could let +grandfather and poor old Martin want a meal; and went and took +out Catherine's angel. As she unfolded the linen a tear of gentle +mortification fell on it. She sent Martin out to change it. While +he was gone a Frenchman came with one of the dealers in illuminated +work, who had offered her so poor a price. He told her he was employed +by his sovereign to collect masterpieces for her book of +hours. Then she showed him the two best things she had; and he +was charmed with one of them, viz., the flowers and raspberries and +creeping things, which Margaret Van Eyck had shaded. He offered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_549" id="Page_549">[549]</a></span> +her an unheard-of price. "Nay, flout not my need, good stranger," +said she: "three mouths there be in this house, and none to fill them +but me."</p> + +<p>Curious arithmetic! Left out No. 1.</p> + +<p>"I flout thee not, fair mistress. My princess charged me strictly, +'Seek the best craftsmen; but I will no hard bargains; make them +content with me, and me with them.'"</p> + +<p>The next minute Margaret was on her knees kissing little Gerard +in the cradle, and showering four gold pieces on him again and +again, and relating the whole occurrence to him in very broken +Dutch.</p> + +<p>"And oh what a good princess: wasn't she? We will pray for +her, won't we, my lambkin; when we are old enough?"</p> + +<p>Martin came in furious. "They will not change it. I trow they +think I stole it."</p> + +<p>"I am beholden to thee," said Margaret, hastily, and almost +snatched it from Martin, and wrapped it up again, and restored it +to its hiding-place.</p> + +<p>Ere these unexpected funds were spent, she got to her ironing and +starching again. In the midst of which Martin sickened; and died +after an illness of nine days.</p> + +<p>Nearly all of her money went to bury him decently.</p> + +<p>He was gone; and there was an empty chair by her fireside. +For he had preferred the hearth to the sun as soon as the Busybody +was gone.</p> + +<p>Margaret would not allow anybody to sit in this chair now. +Yet whenever she let her eye dwell too long on it, vacant, it was +sure to cost her a tear.</p> + +<p>And now there was nobody to carry her linen home. To do it +herself she must leave little Gerard in charge of a neighbour. +But she dared not trust such a treasure to mortal; and besides she +could not bear him out of her sight for hours and hours. So she +set inquiries on foot for a boy to carry her basket on Saturday +and Monday.</p> + +<p>A plump, fresh-coloured youth, called Luke Peterson, who looked +fifteen, but was eighteen, came in, and blushing, and twiddling his +bonnet, asked her if a man would not serve her turn as well as a +boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_550" id="Page_550">[550]</a></span></p> + +<p>Before he spoke she was saying to herself, "This boy will just do."</p> + +<p>But she took the cue, and said, "Nay; but a man will maybe +seek more than I can well pay."</p> + +<p>"Not I," said Luke, warmly. "Why, Mistress Margaret, I am +your neighbour, and I do very well at the coopering. I can carry +your basket for you before or after my day's work, and welcome. +You have no need to pay <i>me</i> anything. 'Tisn't as if we were +strangers, ye know."</p> + +<p>"Why, Master Luke, I know your face, for that matter; but I +cannot call to mind that ever a word passed between us."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, you did, Mistress Margaret. What have you forgotten? +One day you were trying to carry your baby and eke your +pitcher full o' water: and, quo' I, 'Give me the baby to carry.' +'Nay,' says you, 'I'll give you the pitcher, and keep the bairn myself:' +and I carried the pitcher home, and you took it from me +at this door, and you said to me, 'I am muckle obliged to you, +young man,' with such a sweet voice; not like the folk in this +street speak to a body."</p> + +<p>"I do mind now, Master Luke; and methinks it was the least +I could say."</p> + +<p>"Well, Mistress Margaret, if you will say as much every time +I carry your basket, I care not how often I bear it, nor how far."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," said Margaret, colouring faintly. "I would not +put upon good nature. You are young, Master Luke, and +kindly. Say I give you your supper on Saturday night, when you +bring the linen home, and your dawn-mete o' Monday; would +that make us anyways even?"</p> + +<p>"As you please; only say not I sought a couple o' diets, I, for +such a trifle as yon."</p> + +<p>With chubby-faced Luke's timely assistance, and the health and +strength which Heaven gave this poor young woman, to balance her +many ills, the house went pretty smoothly awhile. But the heart +became more and more troubled by Gerard's long and now most +mysterious silence.</p> + +<p>And then that mental torture, Suspense, began to tear her +heavy heart with his hot pinchers, till she cried often and vehemently, +"Oh, that I could know the worst."</p> + +<p>While she was in this state, one day she heard a heavy step mount<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_551" id="Page_551">[551]</a></span> +the stair. She started and trembled. "That is no step that I +know. Ill tidings!"</p> + +<p>The door opened, and an unexpected visitor, Eli, came in, looking +grave and kind.</p> + +<p>Margaret eyed him in silence, and with increasing agitation.</p> + +<p>"Girl," said he, "the skipper is come back."</p> + +<p>"One word," gasped Margaret, "is he alive?"</p> + +<p>"Surely, I hope so. No one has seen him dead."</p> + +<p>"Then they must have seen him alive."</p> + +<p>"No girl; neither dead nor alive hath he been seen this many +months in Rome. My daughter Kate thinks he is gone to some +other city. She bade me tell you her thought."</p> + +<p>"Ay, like enough," said Margaret, gloomily; "like enough. My +poor babe!"</p> + +<p>The old man in a faintest voice asked her for a morsel to eat: +he had come fasting.</p> + +<p>The poor thing pitied him with the surface of her agitated +mind, and cooked a meal for him, trembling, and scarce knowing +what she was about.</p> + +<p>Ere he went he laid his hand upon her head, and said, "Be he +alive, or be he dead, I look on thee as my daughter. Can I do nought +for thee this day? bethink thee now."</p> + +<p>"Ay, old man. Pray for him; and for me!"</p> + +<p>Eli sighed, and went sadly and heavily down the stairs.</p> + +<p>She listened half stupidly to his retiring footsteps till they +ceased. Then she sank moaning down by the cradle, and drew little +Gerard tight to her bosom. "Oh, my poor fatherless boy; my +fatherless boy!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>NOT long after this, as the little family at Tergou sat at +dinner, Luke Peterson burst in on them, covered with dust.</div> + +<p>"Good people, Mistress Catherine is wanted instantly at +Rotterdam."</p> + +<p>"My name is Catherine, young man. Kate, it will be Margaret."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_552" id="Page_552">[552]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ay dame, she said to me, 'Good Luke, hie thee to Tergou, and +ask for Eli the hosier, and pray his wife Catherine to come to me, +for God his love.' I didn't wait for daylight."</p> + +<p>"Holy saints! He has come home, Kate. Nay, she would sure +have said so. What on earth can it be?" And she heaped conjecture +on conjecture.</p> + +<p>"Mayhap the young man can tell us," hazarded Kate, timidly.</p> + +<p>"That I can," said Luke. "Why, her babe is a-dying. And she +was so wrapped up in it!"</p> + +<p>Catherine started up: "What is his trouble?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not. But it has been peaking and pining worse +and worse this while."</p> + +<p>A furtive glance of satisfaction passed between Cornelis and +Sybrandt. Luckily for them Catherine did not see it. Her face +was turned towards her husband. "Now, Eli," cried she, furiously, +"if you say a word against it, you and I shall quarrel, after all +these years."</p> + +<p>"Who gainsays thee, foolish woman? Quarrel with your own +shadow; while I go borrow Peter's mule for ye."</p> + +<p>"Bless thee, my good man! Bless thee! Didst never yet fail +me at a pinch. Now eat your dinners who can, while I go and +make ready."</p> + +<p>She took Luke back with her in the cart, and, on the way, questioned +and cross-questioned him, severely, and seductively, by turns, till +she had turned his mind inside out, what there was of it.</p> + +<p>Margaret met her at the door, pale and agitated, and threw her +arms round her neck, and looked imploringly in her face.</p> + +<p>"Come, he is alive, thank God," said Catherine, after scanning +her eagerly.</p> + +<p>She looked at the failing child, and then at the poor hollow-eyed +mother, alternately. "Lucky you sent for me," said she. "The +child is poisoned."</p> + +<p>"Poisoned! by whom?"</p> + +<p>"By you. You have been fretting."</p> + +<p>"Nay, indeed, mother. How can I help fretting?"</p> + +<p>"Don't tell me, Margaret. A nursing mother has no business to +fret. She must turn her mind away from her grief to the comfort +that lies in her lap. Know you not that the child pines if the +mother vexes herself? This comes of your reading and writing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_553" id="Page_553">[553]</a></span> +Those idle crafts befit a man; but they keep all useful knowledge +out of a woman. The child must be weaned."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you cruel woman," cried Margaret, vehemently; "I am +sorry I sent for you. Would you rob me of the only bit of comfort +I have in the world? A-nursing my Gerard, I forget I am the most +unhappy creature beneath the sun."</p> + +<p>"That you do not," was the retort, "or he would not be the way +he is."</p> + +<p>"Mother!" said Margaret, imploringly.</p> + +<p>"'Tis hard," replied Catherine, relenting. "But bethink thee; +would it not be harder to look down and see his lovely wee face +a-looking up at you out of a little coffin?"</p> + +<p>"O, Jesu!"</p> + +<p>"And how could you face your other troubles with your heart aye +full, and your lap empty?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, I consent to anything. Only save my boy."</p> + +<p>"That is a good lass. Trust to me! I do stand by, and see clearer +than thou."</p> + +<p>Unfortunately there was another consent to be gained; the babe's: +and he was more refractory than his mother.</p> + +<p>"There," said Margaret, trying to affect regret at his misbehaviour; +"he loves me too well."</p> + +<p>But Catherine was a match for them both. As she came along she +had observed a healthy young woman, sitting outside her own door, +with an infant hard by. She went and told her the case; and would +she nurse the pining child for the nonce, till she had matters ready +to wean him?</p> + +<p>The young woman consented with a smile, and popped her child +into the cradle and came into Margaret's house. She dropped a +curtsy, and Catherine put the child into her hands. She examined, +and pitied it, and purred over it, and proceeded to nurse it, just as +if it had been her own.</p> + +<p>Margaret, who had been paralyzed at her assurance, cast a rueful +look at Catherine, and burst out crying.</p> + +<p>The visitor looked up. "What is to do? Wife, ye told me not the +mother was unwilling."</p> + +<p>"She is not: she is only a fool. Never heed her: and you, Margaret, +I am ashamed of you."</p> + +<p>"You are a cruel, hard-hearted woman," sobbed Margaret.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_554" id="Page_554">[554]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Them as take in hand to guide the weak, need be hardish. And +you will excuse me; but you are not my flesh and blood: and your +boy is."</p> + +<p>After giving this blunt speech time to sink, she added, "Come now, +she is robbing her own to save yours, and you can think of nothing +better than bursting out a-blubbering in the woman's face. Out fie, +for shame?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, wife," said the nurse. "Thank Heaven, I have enough +for my own and for hers to boot. And prithee wyte not on her! +Maybe the troubles o' life ha' soured her own milk."</p> + +<p>"And her heart into the bargain," said the remorseless Catherine.</p> + +<p>Margaret looked her full in the face; and down went her eyes.</p> + +<p>"I know I ought to be very grateful to you," sobbed Margaret to the +nurse: then turned her head and leaned away over the chair, not to +witness the intolerable sight of another nursing her Gerard, and Gerard +drawing no distinction between this new mother, and her the +banished one.</p> + +<p>The nurse replied, "You are very welcome, my poor woman. +And so are you, Mistress Catherine, which are my townswoman, and +know it not."</p> + +<p>"What, are ye from Tergou? all the better. But I cannot call your +face to mind."</p> + +<p>"Oh, you know not me: my husband and me, we are very humble +folk by you. But true Eli and his wife are known of all the town; +and respected. So I am at your call, dame; and at yours, wife; and +yours, my pretty poppet; night or day."</p> + +<p>"There's a woman of the right old sort," said Catherine, as the +door closed upon her.</p> + +<p>"I HATE her. I HATE her. I HATE her," said Margaret, +with wonderful fervour.</p> + +<p>Catherine only laughed at this outburst.</p> + +<p>"That is right," said she, "better say it, as set sly and think it. +It is very natural after all. Come, here is your bundle o' comfort. +Take and hate that; if ye can:" and she put the child in her lap.</p> + +<p>"No, no;" said Margaret, turning her head half away from him: +she could not for her life turn the other half. "He is not my child +now; he is hers. I know not why she left him here, for my part. +It was very good of her not to take him to her house, cradle and all; +oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_555" id="Page_555">[555]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ah! well, one comfort, <i>he</i> is not dead. This gives me light; +some other woman has got him away from me; like father, like +son; oh! oh! oh! oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>Catherine was sorry for her, and let her cry in peace. And after +that, when she wanted Joan's aid, she used to take Gerard out, to +give him a little fresh air. Margaret never objected; nor expressed +the least incredulity; but on their return was always in tears.</p> + +<p>This connivance was short lived. She was now altogether as +eager to wean little Gerard. It was done; and he recovered health +and vigour: and another trouble fell upon him directly: teething. +But here Catherine's experience was invaluable: and now, in the +midst of her grief and anxiety about the father, Margaret had +moments of bliss, watching the son's tiny teeth come through. +"Teeth, mother? I call them not teeth, but pearls of pearls." And +each pearl that peeped and sparkled on his red gums, was to her the +greatest feat Nature had ever achieved.</p> + +<p>Her companion partook the illusion. And, had we told them a +field of standing corn was equally admirable, Margaret would have +changed to a reproachful gazelle, and Catherine turned us out of +doors; so each pearl's arrival was announced with a shriek of triumph +by whichever of them was the fortunate discoverer.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Catherine gossiped with Joan and learned that she was the wife +of Jorian Ketel of Tergou, who had been servant to Ghysbrecht +Van Swieten, but fallen out of favour, and come back to Rotterdam, +his native place. His friends had got him the place of sexton to +the parish, and what with that and carpentering, he did pretty well.</p> + +<p>Catherine told Joan in return whose child it was she had nursed, +and all about Margaret and Gerard, and the deep anxiety his silence +had plunged them in. "Ay," said Joan, "the world is full of +trouble." One day she said to Catherine, "It's my belief my man +knows more about your Gerard than anybody in these parts: but he +has got to be closer than ever of late. Drop in some day just afore +sunset, and set him talking. And, for our Lady's sake, say not I +set you on. The only hiding he ever gave me was for babbling his +business: and I do not want another. Gramercy! I married a man +for the comfort of the thing: not to be hided."</p> + +<p>Catherine dropped in. Jorian was ready enough to tell her how +he had befriended her son and perhaps saved his life. But this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_556" id="Page_556">[556]</a></span> +was no news to Catherine: and the moment she began to cross-question +him as to whether he could guess why her lost boy neither came, nor +wrote, he cast a grim look at his wife, who received it with a calm +air of stolid candour and innocent unconsciousness; and his answers +became short and sullen. "What should he know more than another?" +and so on. He added, after a pause, "Think you the burgomaster +takes such as me into his secrets?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, then the burgomaster knows something?" said Catherine, +sharply.</p> + +<p>"Likely. Who else should?"</p> + +<p>"I'll ask him."</p> + +<p>"I would."</p> + +<p>"And tell him you say he knows."</p> + +<p>"That is right, dame. Go make him mine enemy. That is what +a poor fellow always gets if he says a word to you women." And +Jorian from that moment shrunk in and became impenetrable as a +hedgehog, and almost as prickly.</p> + +<p>His conduct caused both the poor women agonies of mind; alarm, +and irritated curiosity. Ghysbrecht was for some cause Gerard's +mortal enemy; had stopped his marriage, imprisoned him, hunted +him. And here was his late servant, who when off his guard had +hinted that this enemy had the clue to Gerard's silence. After sifting +Jorian's every word and look, all remained dark and mysterious. +Then Catherine told Margaret to go herself to him. "You are young; +you are fair. You will, maybe, get more out of him than I could."</p> + +<p>The conjecture was a reasonable one.</p> + +<p>Margaret went with her child in her arms and tapped timidly at +Jorian's door just before sunset. "Come in," said a sturdy voice. +She entered, and there sat Jorian by the fireside. At sight of her he +rose, snorted, and burst out of the house. "Is that for me, wife?" +inquired Margaret, turning very red.</p> + +<p>"You must excuse him," replied Joan, rather coldly; "he lays it +to your door that he is a poor man instead of a rich one. It is something +about a piece of parchment. There was one missing, and he +got nought from the burgomaster all along of that one."</p> + +<p>"Alas! Gerard took it!"</p> + +<p>"Likely. But my man says you should not have let him: you were +pledged to him to keep them all safe. And, sooth to say, I blame not +my Jorian for being wroth. 'Tis hard for a poor man to be so near<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_557" id="Page_557">[557]</a></span> +fortune and lose it by those he has befriended. However, I tell him +another story. Says I, 'Folk that are out o' trouble, like you and me, +didn't ought to be too hard on folk that are in trouble: and she has +plenty.' Going already? What is all your hurry, mistress?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, it is not for me to drive the good man out of his own house."</p> + +<p>"Well, let me kiss the bairn afore ye go. He is not in fault any +way, poor innocent."</p> + +<p>Upon this cruel rebuff Margaret came to a resolution, which she did +not confide even to Catherine.</p> + +<p>After six weeks' stay that good woman returned home.</p> + +<p>On the child's birthday, which occurred soon after, Margaret did +no work: but put on her Sunday clothes, and took her boy in her arms +and went to the church and prayed there long and fervently for Gerard's +safe return.</p> + +<p>That same day and hour Father Clement celebrated a mass and +prayed for Margaret's departed soul in the minster church at Basle.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>SOME blackguard or other, I think it was Sybrandt, said, "A +lie is not like a blow with a curtal axe."</div> + +<p>True: for we can predict in some degree the consequences +of a stroke with any material weapon. But a lie has no bounds at +all. The nature of the thing is to ramify beyond human calculation.</p> + +<p>Often in the every-day world a lie has cost a life, or laid waste two +or three.</p> + +<p>And so, in this story, what tremendous consequences of that one +heartless falsehood!</p> + +<p>Yet the tillers reaped little from it.</p> + +<p>The brothers, who invented it merely to have one claimant the less +for their father's property, saw little Gerard take their brother's place +in their mother's heart. Nay, more, one day Eli openly proclaimed +that, Gerard being lost, and probably dead, he had provided by will +for little Gerard, and also for Margaret, his poor son's widow.</p> + +<p>At this the look that passed between the black sheep was a caution +to traitors. Cornelis had it on his lips to say Gerard was most likely +alive. But he saw his mother looking at him, and checked himself +in time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_558" id="Page_558">[558]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, the other partner in that lie, was now a +failing man. He saw the period fast approaching when all his wealth +would drop from his body, and his misdeeds cling to his soul.</p> + +<p>Too intelligent to deceive himself entirely, he had never been free +from gusts of remorse. In taking Gerard's letter to Margaret he had +compounded. "I cannot give up land and money," said his giant +Avarice. "I will cause her no unnecessary pain," said his dwarf +Conscience.</p> + +<p>So, after first tampering with the seal, and finding there was not a +syllable about the deed, he took it to her with his own hand; and made +a merit of it to himself: a set-off; and on a scale not uncommon where +the self-accuser is the judge.</p> + +<p>The birth of Margaret's child surprised and shocked him, and put +his treacherous act in a new light. Should his letter take effect he +should cause the dishonour of her, who was the daughter of one friend, +the granddaughter of another, and whose land he was keeping from +her too.</p> + +<p>These thoughts preying on him at that period of life, when the +strength of body decays, and the memory of old friends revives, filled +him with gloomy horrors. Yet he was afraid to confess. For the +curé was an honest man, and would have made him disgorge. And +with him Avarice was an ingrained habit, Penitence only a sentiment.</p> + +<p>Matters were thus when, one day, returning from the town-hall to +his own house, he found a woman waiting for him in the vestibule, +with a child in her arms. She was veiled, and so, concluding she +had something to be ashamed of, he addressed her magisterially. On +this she let down her veil and looked him full in the face.</p> + +<p>It was Margaret Brandt.</p> + +<p>Her sudden appearance and manner startled him, and he could not +conceal his confusion.</p> + +<p>"Where is my Gerard?" cried she, her bosom heaving. "Is he +alive?"</p> + +<p>"For aught I know," stammered Ghysbrecht. "I hope so, for +your sake. Prithee come into this room. The servants!"</p> + +<p>"Not a step," said Margaret, and she took him by the shoulder, and +held him with all the energy of an excited woman. "You know the +secret of that which is breaking my heart. Why does not my Gerard<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_559" id="Page_559">[559]</a></span> +come, nor send a line this many months? Answer me, or all the +town is like to hear me; let alone thy servants. My misery is too +great to be sported with."</p> + +<p>In vain he persisted he knew nothing about Gerard. She told him +those who had sent her to him told her another tale. "You do know +why he neither comes nor sends," said she, firmly.</p> + +<p>At this Ghysbrecht turned paler and paler; but he summoned all +his dignity, and said, "Would you believe those two knaves against a +man of worship?"</p> + +<p>"What two knaves?" said she, keenly.</p> + +<p>He stammered, "Said ye not—? There, I am a poor old broken +man, whose memory is shaken. And you come here, and confuse me +so. I know not what I say."</p> + +<p>"Ay, sir, your memory is shaken, or sure you would not be my +enemy. My father saved you from the plague, when none other +would come anigh you; and was ever your friend. My grandfather +Floris helped you in your early poverty, and loved you, man and boy. +Three generations of us you have seen; and here is the fourth of us; +this is your old friend Peter's grandchild, and your old friend Floris +his great-grandchild. Look down on his innocent face, and think of +theirs!"</p> + +<p>"Woman, you torture me," sighed Ghysbrecht, and sank upon a +bench. But she saw her advantage, and kneeled before him, and put +the boy on his knees. "This fatherless babe is poor Margaret +Brandt's, that never did you ill, and comes of a race that loved you. +Nay, look at his face. 'Twill melt thee more than any word of mine. +Saints of heaven, what can a poor desolate girl and her babe have +done to wipe out all memory of thine own young days, when thou +wert guiltless as he is, that now looks up in thy face and implores thee +to give him back his father?"</p> + +<p>And with her arms under the child she held him up higher and +higher, smiling under the old man's eyes.</p> + +<p>He cast a wild look of anguish on the child, and another on the +kneeling mother, and started up shrieking, "Avaunt, ye pair of adders."</p> + +<p>The stung soul gave the old limbs a momentary vigour, and he +walked rapidly, wringing his hands and clutching at his white hair. +"Forget those days? I forget all else. Oh, woman, woman, sleeping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_560" id="Page_560">[560]</a></span> +or waking I see but the faces of the dead, I hear but the voices of the +dead, and I shall soon be among the dead. There, there, what is done +is done. I am in hell. I am in hell."</p> + +<p>And unnatural force ended in prostration.</p> + +<p>He staggered, and but for Margaret would have fallen. With her +one disengaged arm she supported him as well as she could, and cried +for help.</p> + +<p>A couple of servants came running, and carried him away in a +state bordering on syncope. The last Margaret saw of him was his +old furrowed face, white and helpless as his hair that hung down +over the servant's elbow.</p> + +<p>"Heaven forgive me," she said. "I doubt I have killed the poor +old man."</p> + +<p>Then this attempt to penetrate the torturing mystery left it as +dark, or darker than before. For when she came to ponder every +word, her suspicion was confirmed that Ghysbrecht did know something +about Gerard. "And who were the two knaves he thought had +done a good deed, and told me? Oh, my Gerard, my poor deserted +babe, you and I are wading in deep waters."</p> + +<p>The visit to Tergou took more money than she could well afford: +and a customer ran away in her debt. She was once more compelled +to unfold Catherine's angel. But, strange to say, as she came down +stairs with it in her hand she found some loose silver on the table, +with a written line—</p> + +<div class='center'> +<i>For Gerard His Wife</i><br /> +</div> + +<p>She fell with a cry of surprise on the writing: and soon it rose +into a cry of joy.</p> + +<p>"He is alive. He sends me this by some friendly hand."</p> + +<p>She kissed the writing again and again, and put it in her bosom.</p> + +<p>Time rolled on: and no news of Gerard.</p> + +<p>And about every two months a small sum in silver found its way +into the house. Sometimes it lay on the table. Once it was flung +in through the bedroom window in a purse. Once it was at the bottom +of Luke's basket. He had stopped at the public-house to talk to a +friend. The giver or his agent was never detected. Catherine disowned +it. Margaret Van Eyck swore she had no hand in it. So did +Eli. And Margaret, whenever it came, used to say to little Gerard,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_561" id="Page_561">[561]</a></span> +"Oh, my poor deserted child, you and I are wading in deep +waters."</p> + +<p>She applied at least half this modest, but useful supply, to dressing +the little Gerard beyond his station in life. "If it does come from +Gerard, he shall see his boy neat." All the mothers in the street +began to sneer, especially such as had brats out at elbows.</p> + +<p>The months rolled on, and dead sickness of heart succeeded to these +keener torments. She returned to her first thought: "Gerard must be +dead. She should never see her boy's father again, nor her marriage +lines." This last grief, which had been somewhat allayed by Eli +and Catherine recognizing her betrothal, now revived in full force; +others would not look so favourably on her story. And often she +moaned over her boy's illegitimacy. "Is it not enough for us to be +bereaved? Must we be dishonoured too? Oh, that we had ne'er +been born."</p> + +<p>A change took place in Peter Brandt. His mind, clouded for +nearly two years, seemed now to be clearing; he had intervals of intelligence; +and then he and Margaret used to talk of Gerard till he +wandered again. But one day, returning after an absence of some +hours, Margaret found him conversing with Catherine, in a way he +had never done since his paralytic stroke. "Eh, girl, why must you +be out?" said she. "But indeed I have told him all; and we have +been a-crying together over thy troubles."</p> + +<p>Margaret stood silent, looking joyfully from one to the other.</p> + +<p>Peter smiled on her, and said, "Come, let me bless thee."</p> + +<p>She kneeled at his feet, and he blessed her most eloquently. He +told her she had been all her life the lovingest, truest, and most obedient +daughter Heaven ever sent to a poor old widowed man. "May +thy son be to thee what thou hast been to me!"</p> + +<p>After this he dozed. Then the females whispered together: and +Catherine said—"All our talk e'en now was of Gerard. It lies heavy +on his mind. His poor head must often have listened to us when +it seemed quite dark. Margaret, he is a very understanding man; +he thought of many things: 'He may be in prison,' says he, 'or forced +to go fighting for some king, or sent to Constantinople to copy books +there, or gone into the Church after all.' He had a bent that way."</p> + +<p>"Ah, mother," whispered Margaret, in reply, "he doth but deceive +himself as we do."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_562" id="Page_562">[562]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ere she could finish the sentence, a strange interruption occurred.</p> + +<p>A loud voice cried out, "I SEE HIM. I SEE HIM."</p> + +<p>And the old man with dilating eyes seemed to be looking right +through the wall of the house.</p> + +<p>"IN A BOAT; on a GREAT RIVER; COMING THIS WAY. +Sore disfigured; but I knew him. Gone! gone! all dark."</p> + +<p>And he sank back, and asked feebly where was Margaret.</p> + +<p>"Dear father, I am by thy side. Oh, mother! mother, what is +this?"</p> + +<p>"I cannot see thee, and but a moment agone I saw all round the +world. Ay, ay. Well, I am ready. Is this thy hand? Bless thee, +my child, bless thee! Weep not! The tree is ripe."</p> + +<p>The old physician read the signs aright. These calm words were +his last. The next moment he drooped his head, and gently, placidly, +drifted away from earth, like an infant sinking to rest. The torch +had flashed up, before going out.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>SHE who had wept for poor old Martin was not likely to bear this +blow so stoically as the death of the old is apt to be borne. In +vain Catherine tried to console her with commonplaces; in vain +told her it was a happy release for him; and that, as he himself had +said, the tree was ripe. But her worst failure was, when she urged +that there were now but two mouths to feed: and one care the less.</div> + +<p>"Such cares are all the joys I have," said Margaret. "They fill +my desolate heart, which now seems void as well as waste. Oh, +empty chair, my bosom it aches to see thee. Poor old man, how could +I love him by halves, I that did use to sit and look at him and think +'But for me thou wouldst die of hunger.' He, so wise, so learned erst, +was got to be helpless as my own sweet babe, and I loved him as if he +had been my child instead of my father. Oh, empty chair! Oh, +empty heart! Well-a-day! well-a-day!"</p> + +<p>And the pious tears would not be denied.</p> + +<p>Then Catherine held her peace: and hung her head. And one +day she made this confession, "I speak to thee out o' my head, and +not out o' my bosom; thou dost well to be deaf to me. Were I in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_563" id="Page_563">[563]</a></span> +thy place I should mourn the old man all one as thou dost."</p> + +<p>Then Margaret embraced her, and this bit of true sympathy did her +a little good. The commonplaces did none.</p> + +<p>Then Catherine's bowels yearned over her, and she said, "My poor +girl, you were not born to live alone. I have got to look on you as +my own daughter. Waste not thine youth upon my son Gerard. +Either he is dead or he is a traitor. It cuts my heart to say +it; but who can help seeing it? Thy father is gone: and I cannot +always be aside thee. And here is an honest lad that loves +thee well this many a day. I'd take him and Comfort together. +Heaven hath sent us these creatures to torment us and comfort us and +all; we are just nothing in the world without 'em." Then seeing +Margaret look utterly perplexed, she went on to say, "Why sure you +are not so blind as not to see it?"</p> + +<p>"What? Who?"</p> + +<p>"Who but this Luke Peterson."</p> + +<p>"What, our Luke? The boy that carries my basket?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, he is over nineteen, and a fine, healthy lad: and I have made +inquiries for you; and they all do say he is a capable workman and +never touches a drop; and that is much in a Rotterdam lad, which +they are mostly half man, half sponge."</p> + +<p>Margaret smiled for the first time this many days. "Luke loves +dried puddings dearly," said she: "and I made them to his mind. +'Tis them he comes a-courting here." Then she suddenly turned red. +"But if I thought he came after your son's wife that is, or ought to +be, I'd soon put him to the door."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay; for Heaven's sake let me not make mischief. Poor lad! +Why, girl, Fancy will not be bridled. Bless you, I wormed it out +of him near a twelvemonth agone."</p> + +<p>"Oh, mother, and you <i>let</i> him!?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I thought of you. I said to myself, 'If he is fool enough to +be her slave for nothing, all the better for her. A lone woman is +lost without a man about her to fetch and carry her little matters.' +But now my mind is changed, and I think the best use you can put +him to is to marry him."</p> + +<p>"So then his own mother is against him, and would wed me to the +first comer. Ah, Gerard, thou hast but me; I will not believe thee +dead till I see thy tomb, nor false till I see thee with another +lover in thine hand. Foolish boy, I shall ne'er be civil to him again."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_564" id="Page_564">[564]</a></span></p> + +<p>Afflicted with the busybody's protection, Luke Peterson met a cold +reception in the house where he had hitherto found a gentle and kind +one. And by-and-by, finding himself very little spoken to at all, and +then sharply and irritably, the great, soft, fellow fell to whimpering, +and asked Margaret plump if he had done anything to offend her.</p> + +<p>"Nothing. I am to blame. I am curst. If you will take my +counsel you will keep out of my way awhile."</p> + +<p>"It is all along of me, Luke," said the busybody.</p> + +<p>"You, Mistress Catherine. Why what have I done for you to set +her against me?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I meant all for the best. I told her I saw you were looking +towards her through a wedding-ring. But she won't hear of it."</p> + +<p>"There was no need to tell her that, wife, she knows I am courting +her this twelvemonth."</p> + +<p>"Not I," said Margaret, "or I should never have opened the street +door to you."</p> + +<p>"Why, I come here every Saturday night. And that is how the +lads in Rotterdam do court. If we sup with a lass o' Saturdays, +that's wooing."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is Rotterdam, is it? Then next time you come let it be +Thursday, or Friday. For my part I thought you came after my +puddings, boy."</p> + +<p>"I like your puddings well enough. You make them better than +mother does. But I like you still better than the puddings," said +Luke, tenderly.</p> + +<p>"Then you have seen the last of them. How dare you talk so to +another man's wife, and him far away?" She ended gently, but very +firmly, "You need not trouble yourself to come here any more, Luke; +I can carry my basket myself."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very well," said Luke, and after sitting silent and stupid for +a little while, he rose, and said sadly to Catherine, "Dame, I dare say +I have got the sack;" and went out.</p> + +<p>But the next Saturday Catherine found him seated on the +door-step blubbering. He told her he had got used to come there, +and every other place seemed strange. She went in and told Margaret +and Margaret sighed and said, "Poor Luke, he might come in +for her, if he could know his place, and treat her like a married wife." +On this being communicated to Luke, he hesitated. "Pshaw!" said +Catherine, "promises are pie-crusts. Promise her all the world,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_565" id="Page_565">[565]</a></span> +sooner than sit outside like a fool, when a word will carry you +inside. Now you humour her in everything, and then, if poor +Gerard come not home and claim her, you will be sure to have +her—in time. A lone woman is aye to be tired out, thou foolish +boy."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Cloister</div> + + +<div class='cap'>BROTHER CLEMENT had taught and preached in Basle +more than a twelvemonth, when one day Jerome stood before +him, dusty, with a triumphant glance in his eye.</div> + +<p>"Give the glory to God, brother Clement; thou canst now wend to +England with me."</p> + +<p>"I am ready, brother Jerome: and, expecting thee these many +months, have in the intervals of teaching and devotion studied the +English tongue somewhat closely."</p> + +<p>"'Twas well thought of," said Jerome. He then told him he had +but delayed till he could obtain extraordinary powers from the Pope +to collect money for the Church's use in England, and to hear confession +in all the secular monasteries. "So now gird up thy loins +and let us go forth and deal a good blow for the Church, and against +the Franciscans."</p> + +<p>The two friars went preaching down the Rhine, for England. In +the larger places they both preached. At the smaller they often +divided, and took different sides of the river, and met again at some +appointed spot. Both were able orators, but in different styles.</p> + +<p>Jerome's was noble and impressive, but a little contracted in religious +topics, and a trifle monotonous in delivery compared with +Clement's, though in truth not so compared with most preachers.</p> + +<p>Clement's was full of variety, and often remarkably colloquial. In +its general flow tender and gently winning, it curled round the reason +and the heart. But it always rose with the rising thought; and so at +times Clement soared as far above Jerome as his level speaking was +below him. Indeed, in these noble heats he was all that we have read +of inspired prophet or heathen orator: Vehemens ut procella, excitatus +ut torrens, incensus ut fulmen, tonabat, fulgurabat, et rapidis +eloquentiæ fluctibus cuncta proruebat et porturbabat.</p> + +<p>I would give liberal specimens, but for five objections: it is difficult;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_566" id="Page_566">[566]</a></span> +time is short; I have done it elsewhere; an able imitator has +since done it better; and similarity, a virtue in peas, is a vice in +books.</p> + +<p>But (not to evade the matter entirely) Clement used secretly to try +and learn the recent events and the besetting sin of each town he was +to preach in.</p> + +<p>But Jerome the unbending scorned to go out of his way for any +people's vices. At one great town some leagues from the Rhine, they +mounted the same pulpit in turn. Jerome preached against vanity +in dress, a favourite theme of his. He was eloquent and satirical, and +the people listened with complacency. It was a vice that they were +little given to.</p> + +<p>Clement preached against drunkenness. It was a besetting sin, +and sacred from preaching in these parts: for the clergy themselves +were infected with it, and popular prejudice protected it. Clement +dealt it merciless blows out of Holy Writ and worldly experience. +A crime itself, it was the nursing-mother of most crimes, especially +theft and murder. He reminded them of a parricide that had lately +been committed in their town by an honest man in liquor, and also +how a band of drunkards had roasted one of their own comrades alive +at a neighbouring village. "Your last prince," said he, "is reported +to have died of apoplexy, but well you know he died of drink: and +of your aldermen one perished miserably last month dead drunk, +suffocated in a puddle. Your children's backs go bare that you may +fill your bellies with that which makes you the worst of beasts, silly +as calves, yet fierce as boars; and drive your families to need, and +your souls to hell. I tell ye your town, ay, and your very nation +would sink to the bottom of mankind did your women drink as you +do. And how long will they be temperate, and, contrary to nature, +resist the example of their husbands and fathers? Vice ne'er yet +stood still. Ye must amend yourselves or see them come down to +your mark. Already in Bohemia they drink along with the men. +How shows a drunken woman? Would you love to see your wives +drunken, your mothers drunken?" At this there was a shout of +horror, for mediæval audiences had not learned to sit mumchance at +a moving sermon. "Ah, that comes home to you," cried the friar. +"What? madmen! think you it doth not more shock the all pure God +to see a man, his noblest work, turned to a drunken beast, than it +can shock you creatures of sin and unreason to see a woman turned +into a thing no better nor worse than yourselves?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_567" id="Page_567">[567]</a></span></p> + +<p>He ended with two pictures; a drunkard's house and family, and a +sober man's; both so true and dramatic in all their details that the +wives fell to "ohing" and "ahing," and "Eh, but that is a true +word."</p> + +<p>This discourse caused quite an uproar. The hearers formed knots: +the men were indignant; so the women flattered them, and took their +part openly against the preacher. A married man had a right to a +drop: he needed it, working for all the family. And for their part +they did not care to change their men for milksops.</p> + +<p>The double faces! That very evening a band of men caught near +a hundred of them round brother Clement, filling his wallet with the +best, and offering him the very roses off their heads, and kissing his +frock, and blessing him "for taking in hand to mend their sots."</p> + +<p>Jerome thought this sermon too earthly.</p> + +<p>"Drunkenness is not heresy, Clement, that a whole sermon should +be preached against it."</p> + +<p>As they went on he found to his surprise that Clement's sermons +sank into his hearers deeper than his own; made them listen, think, +cry, and sometimes even amend their ways. "He hath the art of +sinking to their peg," thought Jerome. "Yet he can soar high +enough at times."</p> + +<p>Upon the whole, it puzzled Jerome, who had a secret sense of superiority +to his tenderer brother. And, after about two hundred miles +of it, it got to displease him as well as puzzle him. But he tried to +check this sentiment as petty and unworthy. "Souls differ like locks," +said he, "and preachers must differ like keys, or the fewer should the +Church open for God to pass in. And, certes, this novice hath the +key to these northern souls, being himself a northern man."</p> + +<p>And so they came slowly down the Rhine, sometimes drifting a few +miles on the stream: but in general walking by the banks preaching, +and teaching, and confessing sinners in the towns and villages; and +they reached the town of Dusseldorf.</p> + +<p>There was the little quay where Gerard and Denys had taken boat +up the Rhine. The friars landed on it. There were the streets, there +was "The Silver Lion." Nothing had changed but he, who walked +through it barefoot, with his heart calm and cold, his hands across his +breast, and his eyes bent meekly on the ground, a true son of Dominic +and holy Church.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_568" id="Page_568">[568]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Hearth</div> + + +<div class='cap'>"ELI," said Catherine, "answer me one question like a man, +and I'll ask no more to-day. What is wormwood?"</div> + +<p>Eli looked a little helpless at this sudden demand upon +his faculties; but soon recovered enough to say it was something that +tasted main bitter.</p> + +<p>"That is a fair answer, my man, but not the one I look for."</p> + +<p>"Then answer it yourself."</p> + +<p>"And shall. Wormwood is—to have two in the house a-doing +nought, but waiting for thy shoes and mine." Eli groaned. The +shaft struck home.</p> + +<p>"Methinks waiting for their best friend's coffin, that and nothing +to do, are enow to make them worse than Nature meant. Why not +set them up somewhere, to give 'em a chance?"</p> + +<p>Eli said he was willing, but afraid they would drink and gamble +their very shelves away.</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Catherine. "Dost take me for a simpleton? Of +course I mean to watch them at starting, and drive them wi' a loose +rein, as the saying is."</p> + +<p>"Where did you think of? Not here; to divide our own custom."</p> + +<p>"Not likely. I say Rotterdam, against the world. Then I could +start them."</p> + +<p>Oh, self-deception! The true motive of all this was to get near +little Gerard.</p> + +<p>After many discussions, and eager promises of amendment on +these terms from Cornelis and Sybrandt, Catherine went to Rotterdam +shop-hunting, and took Kate with her; for a change. They +soon found one, and in a good street: but it was sadly out of +order. However they got it cheaper for that, and instantly set +about brushing it up, fitting proper shelves for the business, and making +the dwelling house habitable.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Luke Peterson was always asking Margaret what he could do for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_569" id="Page_569">[569]</a></span> +her. The answer used to be in a sad tone, "Nothing, Luke, nothing."</p> + +<p>"What you that are so clever, can you think of nothing for me +to do for you?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, Luke, nothing."</p> + +<p>But at last she varied the reply thus: "If you could make something +to help my sweet sister Kate about."</p> + +<p>The slave of love consented joyfully, and soon made Kate a little +cart, and cushioned it, and yoked himself into it, and at eventide +drew her out of the town, and along the pleasant boulevard, with +Margaret and Catherine walking beside. It looked a happier party +than it was.</p> + +<p>Kate, for one, enjoyed it keenly; for little Gerard was put in +her lap, and she doted on him: and it was like a cherub carried +by a little angel, or a rosebud lying in the cup of a lily.</p> + +<p>So the vulgar jeered: and asked Luke how a thistle tasted, and +if his mistress could not afford one with four legs, etc.</p> + +<p>Luke did not mind these jeers; but Kate minded them for +him.</p> + +<p>"Thou hast made the cart for me, good Luke," said she. "'Twas +much. I did ill to let thee draw me too; we can afford to pay +some poor soul for that. I love my rides, and to carry little Gerard; +but I'd liever ride no more than thou be mocked for't."</p> + +<p>"Much I care for their tongues," said Luke, "if I did care I'd +knock their heads together. I shall draw you till my mistress says +give over."</p> + +<p>"Luke, if you obey Kate, you will oblige me."</p> + +<p>"Then I will obey Kate."</p> + +<p>An honourable exception to popular humour was Jorian Ketel's +wife. "That is strength well laid out, to draw the weak. And +her prayers will be your guerdon: she is not long for this world: +she smileth in pain." These were the words of Joan.</p> + +<p>Singleminded Luke answered that he did not want the poor lass's +prayers; he did it to please his mistress, Margaret.</p> + +<p>After that Luke often pressed Margaret to give him something +to do—without success.</p> + +<p>But one day, as if tired with his importuning, she turned on him, +and said with a look and accent, I should in vain try to convey—</p> + +<p>"Find me my boy's father!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_570" id="Page_570">[570]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>"MISTRESS, they all say he is dead."</div> + +<p>"Not so. They feed me still with hopes."</p> + +<p>"Ay, to your face, but behind your back they all say +he is dead."</p> + +<p>At this revelation Margaret's tears began to flow.</p> + +<p>Luke whimpered for company. He had the body of a man, but +the heart of a girl.</p> + +<p>"Prithee, weep not so, sweet mistress," said he. "I'd bring him +back to life, an' I could, rather than see thee weep so sore."</p> + +<p>Margaret said she thought she was weeping because they were +so double-tongued with her.</p> + +<p>She recovered herself, and laying her hand on his shoulder, said +solemnly, "Luke, he is not dead. Dying men are known to have +a strange sight. And listen, Luke! My poor father, when he was +a-dying, and I, simple fool, was so happy, thinking he was going to +get well altogether, he said to mother and me—he was sitting in +that very chair where you are now, and mother was as might be +here, and I was yonder making a sleeve—said he, 'I see him! I see +him!' Just so. Not like a failing man at all, but all o' fire. +'Sore disfigured—on a great river—coming this way.'</p> + +<p>"Ah, Luke, if you were a woman, and had the feeling for me +you think you have, you would pity me, and find him for me. +Take a thought! The father of my child!"</p> + +<p>"Alack, I would, if I knew how," said Luke. "But how can I?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, of course you cannot. I am mad to think it. But, oh, +if any one really cared for me, they <i>would;</i> that is all I know."</p> + +<p>Luke reflected in silence for some time.</p> + +<p>"The old folk all say dying men can see more than living wights. +Let me think: for my mind cannot gallop like thine. On a great +river? Well, the Maas is a great river." He pondered on.</p> + +<p>"Coming this way? Then if it 'twas the Maas, he would have +been here by this time, so 'tis not the Maas. The Rhine is a +great river, greater than the Maas; and very long. I think it will +be the Rhine."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_571" id="Page_571">[571]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And so do I, Luke; for Denys bade him come down the Rhine. +But even if it is, he may turn off before he comes anigh his birthplace. +He does not pine for me as I for him; that is clear. Luke, +do you not think he has deserted me?" She wanted him to contradict +her; but he said "It looks very like it; what a fool he +must be!"</p> + +<p>"What do we know?" objected Margaret, imploringly.</p> + +<p>"Let me think again," said Luke. "I cannot gallop."</p> + +<p>The result of this meditation was this. He knew a station about +sixty miles up the Rhine, where all the public boats put in; and +he would go to that station, and try and cut the truant off. To be +sure he did not even know him by sight; but as each boat came in +he would mingle with the passengers, and ask if one Gerard was +there. "And, mistress, if you were to give me a bit of a letter +to him; for, with us being strangers, mayhap a won't believe a word +I say."</p> + +<p>"Good, kind, thoughtful Luke, I will (how I have undervalued +thee!). But give me till supper-time to get it writ." At supper +she put a letter into his hand with a blush: it was a long letter +tied round with silk after the fashion of the day, and sealed over +the knot.</p> + +<p>Luke weighed it in his hand, with a shade of discontent, and said +to her very gravely, "Say your father was not dreaming, and say +I have the luck to fall in with this man, and say he should turn +out a better bit of stuff than I think him, and come home to you +then and there—what is to become o' me?"</p> + +<p>Margaret coloured to her very brow. "Oh, Luke, Heaven will +reward thee. And I shall fall on my knees and bless thee; and I +shall love thee all my days, sweet Luke; as a mother does her son. +I am so old by thee: trouble ages the heart. Thou shalt not go: +'tis not fair of me; Love maketh us to be all self."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Luke. "And if," resumed he, in the same grave +way, "yon scapegrace shall read thy letter, and hear me tell him +how thou pinest for him, and yet, being a traitor, or a mere idiot, +will not turn to thee—what shall become of me then? Must I die +a bachelor, and thou fare lonely to thy grave, neither maid, wife, +nor widow?"</p> + +<p>Margaret panted with fear and emotion at this terrible piece of +good sense, and the plain question that followed it. But at last<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_572" id="Page_572">[572]</a></span> +she faltered out, "If, which our Lady be merciful to me, and forbid—Oh!"</p> + +<p>"Well, mistress?"</p> + +<p>"If he should read my letter, and hear thy words—and, sweet +Luke, be just and tell him what a lovely babe he hath, fatherless, +fatherless. Oh Luke, can he be so cruel?"</p> + +<p>"I trow not: but if?"</p> + +<p>"Then he will give thee up my marriage lines, and I shall be an +honest woman; and a wretched one; and my boy will not be a +bastard: and, of course, then we <i>could</i> both go into any honest man's +house that would be troubled with us: and even for thy goodness +this day, I will—I will—ne'er be so ungrateful as go past thy +door to another man's."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but will you come in at mine? Answer me that!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, ask me not! Some day, perhaps, when my wounds leave +bleeding. Alas, I'll try. If I don't fling myself and my child into +the Maas. Do not go, Luke! do not think of going! 'Tis all madness +from first to last."</p> + +<p>But Luke was as slow to forego an idea as to form one.</p> + +<p>His reply showed how fast love was making a man of him. +"Well," said he, "madness is something any way; and I am tired +of doing nothing for thee: and I am no great talker. To-morrow, +at peep of day, I start. But, hold, I have no money. My mother, +she takes care of all mine; and I ne'er see it again."</p> + +<p>Then Margaret took out Catherine's gold angel, which had escaped +so often, and gave it to Luke; and he set out on his mad +errand.</p> + +<p>It did not however seem so mad to him as to us. It was a superstitious +age: and Luke acted on the dying man's dream, or vision, +or illusion, or whatever it was, much as we should act on respectable +information.</p> + +<p>But Catherine was downright angry when she heard of it. To +send the poor lad on such a wild-goose chase! "But you are like +a many more girls; and mark my words: by the time you have worn +that Luke fairly out, and made him as sick of you as a dog, you +will turn as fond on him as a cow on a calf, and 'Too late' will be +the cry."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_573" id="Page_573">[573]</a></span></p> + + +<div class='chaptertitle'><br />The Cloister</div> + +<p>The two friars reached Holland from the south just twelve hours +after Luke started up the Rhine.</p> + +<p>Thus, wild-goose chase or not, the parties were nearing each +other, and rapidly too. For Jerome, unable to preach in low +Dutch, now began to push on towards the coast, anxious to get +to England as soon as possible.</p> + +<p>And, having the stream with them, the friars would in point of +fact have missed Luke by passing him in full stream below his +station, but for the incident which I am about to relate.</p> + +<p>About twenty miles above the station Luke was making for, Clement +landed to preach in a large village; and towards the end of +his sermon he noticed a grey nun weeping.</p> + +<p>He spoke to her kindly, and asked her what was her grief. +"Nay," said she, "'tis not for myself flow these tears; 'tis for my +lost friend. Thy words reminded me of what she was, and what +she is, poor wretch. But you are a Dominican, and I am a Franciscan +nun."</p> + +<p>"It matters little, my sister, if we are both Christians and if I +can aid thee in aught."</p> + +<p>The nun looked in his face, and said, "These are strange words, +but methinks they are good; and thy lips are oh most eloquent. I +will tell thee our grief."</p> + +<p>She then let him know that a young nun, the darling of the convent, +and her bosom friend, had been lured away from her vows, +and, after various gradations of sin, was actually living in a small +inn as chambermaid, in reality as a decoy, and was known to be +selling her favours to the wealthier customers. She added, "Anywhere +else we might by kindly violence force her away from perdition. +But this innkeeper was the servant of the fierce baron on +the height there, and hath his ear still, and he would burn our +convent to the ground, were we to take her by force."</p> + +<p>"Moreover, souls will not be saved by brute force," said Clement.</p> + +<p>While they were talking Jerome came up, and Clement persuaded +him to lie at the convent that night. But when in the morning +Clement told him he had had a long talk with the abbess,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_574" id="Page_574">[574]</a></span> +and that she was very sad, and he had promised her to try and win +back her nun, Jerome objected, and said, "It was not their business, +and was a waste of time." Clement, however, was no longer +a mere pupil. He stood firm, and at last they agreed that Jerome +should go forward, and secure their passage in the next ship for +England, and Clement be allowed time to make his well-meant but +idle experiment.</p> + +<p>About ten o'clock that day, a figure in a horseman's cloak, and +great boots to match, and a large flapping felt hat, stood like a +statue near the auberge, where was the apostate nun, Mary. The +friar thus disguised was at that moment truly wretched. These +ardent natures undertake wonders; but are dashed when they come +hand to hand with the sickening difficulties. But then, as their +hearts are steel, though their nerves are anything but iron, they +turn not back, but panting and dispirited, struggle on to the last.</p> + +<p>Clement hesitated long at the door, prayed for help and wisdom, +and at last entered the inn and sat down faint at heart, and with +his body in a cold perspiration.</p> + +<p>But outside he was another man. He called lustily for a cup +of wine: it was brought him by the landlord. He paid for it with +money the convent had supplied him: and made a show of drinking it.</p> + +<p>"Landlord," said he, "I hear there is a fair chambermaid in thine +house."</p> + +<p>"Ay, stranger, the buxomest in Holland. But she gives not her +company to all comers; only to good customers."</p> + +<p>Friar Clement dangled a massive gold chain in the landlord's sight. +He laughed, and shouted, "Here, Janet, here is a lover for thee +would bind thee in chains of gold: and a tall lad into the bargain +I promise thee."</p> + +<p>"Then I am in double luck," said a female voice: "send him +hither."</p> + +<p>Clement rose, shuddered, and passed into the room, where Janet +was seated playing with a piece of work, and laying it down every +minute, to sing a mutilated fragment of a song. For, in her mode +of life, she had not the patience to carry anything out.</p> + +<p>After a few words of greeting, the disguised visitor asked her +if they could not be more private somewhere.</p> + +<p>"Why not?" said she. And she rose and smiled, and went tripping +before him. He followed, groaning inwardly, and sore perplexed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_575" id="Page_575">[575]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There," said she. "Have no fear! Nobody ever comes here, +but such as pay for the privilege."</p> + +<p>Clement looked round the room, and prayed silently for wisdom. +Then he went softly, and closed the window-shutters carefully.</p> + +<p>"What on earth is that for?" said Janet in some uneasiness.</p> + +<p>"Sweetheart," whispered the visitor, with a mysterious air, "it +is that God may not see us."</p> + +<p>"Madman," said Janet, "think you a wooden shutter can keep +out his eye?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not. Perchance he has too much on hand to +notice us. But I would not the saints and angels should see us. +Would you?"</p> + +<p>"My poor soul, hope not to escape their sight! The only way is +not to think of them; for if you do, it poisons your cup. For +two pins I'd run and leave thee. Art pleasant company in sooth."</p> + +<p>"After all, girl, so that men see us not, what signify God and +the saints seeing us? Feel this chain! 'Tis virgin gold. I shall +cut two of these heavy links off for thee."</p> + +<p>"Ah! now thy discourse is to the point." And she handled the +chain greedily. "Why, 'tis as massy as the chain round the Virgin's +neck at the conv—" She did not finish the word.</p> + +<p>"Whisht! whisht! whisht! 'Tis <i>it</i>. And thou shalt have thy +share. But betray me not."</p> + +<p>"Monster!" cried Janet, drawing back from him with repugnance, +"what rob the blessed Virgin of her chain, and give it to +an—"</p> + +<p>"You are none," cried Clement, exultingly, "or you had not +recked for that.—Mary!"</p> + +<p>"Ah! ah! ah!"</p> + +<p>"Thy patron saint, whose chain this is, sends me to greet thee."</p> + +<p>She ran screaming to the window and began to undo the shutters.</p> + +<p>Her fingers trembled, and Clement had time to debarass himself +of his boots, and his hat, before the light streamed in upon him. +He then let his cloak quietly fall, and stood before her, a Dominican +friar, calm and majestic as a statue, and held his crucifix towering +over her with a loving, sad, and solemn look, that somehow relieved +her of the physical part of fear, but crushed her with religious terror +and remorse. She crouched and cowered against the wall.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_576" id="Page_576">[576]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Mary," said he, gently; "one word! Are you happy?"</p> + +<p>"As happy as I shall be in hell."</p> + +<p>"And they are not happy at the convent; they weep for you."</p> + +<p>"For me?"</p> + +<p>"Day and night; above all the Sister Ursula."</p> + +<p>"Poor Ursula!" And the strayed nun began to weep herself +at the thought of her friend.</p> + +<p>"The angels weep still more. Wilt not dry all their tears in +earth and heaven, and save thyself?"</p> + +<p>"Ah! would I could: but it is too late."</p> + +<p>"Satan avaunt," cried the monk, sternly. "'Tis thy favourite +temptation; and thou, Mary, listen not to the enemy of man, belying +God, and whispering despair. I who come to save thee have +been a far greater sinner than thou. Come, Mary, sin, thou seest, +is not so sweet e'en in this world, as holiness; and eternity is at +the door."</p> + +<p>"How can they ever receive me again?"</p> + +<p>"'Tis their worthiness thou doubtest now. But in truth they +pine for thee. 'Twas in pity of their tears that I, a Dominican, +undertook this task; and broke the rule of my order by entering an +inn; and broke it again by donning these lay vestments. But all +is well done, and quit for a light penance, if thou will let us rescue +thy soul from this den of wolves and bring thee back to thy +vows."</p> + +<p>The nun gazed at him with tears in her eyes. "And thou a +Dominican hast done this for a daughter of St. Francis! Why +the Franciscans and Dominicans hate one another."</p> + +<p>"Ay, my daughter; but Francis and Dominic love one another."</p> + +<p>The recreant nun seemed struck and affected by this answer.</p> + +<p>Clement now reminded her how shocked she had been that the +Virgin should be robbed of her chain. "But see now," said he, +"the convent and the Virgin too think ten times more of their poor +nun than of golden chains; for they freely trusted their chain to me +a stranger, that peradventure the sight of it might touch their lost +Mary and remind her of their love." Finally he showed her with +such terrible simplicity the end of her present course, and on the +other hand so revived her dormant memories and better feelings, +that she kneeled sobbing at his feet, and owned she had never +known happiness nor peace since she betrayed her vows; and said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_577" id="Page_577">[577]</a></span> +she would go back if he would go with her; but alone she dared +not, could not: even if she reached the gate she could never enter. +How could she face the abbess and the sisters? He told her he +would go with her as joyfully as the shepherd bears a strayed lamb +to the fold.</p> + +<p>But when he urged her to go at once, up sprung a crop of those +prodigiously petty difficulties that entangle her sex, like silken nets, +like iron cobwebs.</p> + +<p>He quietly swept them aside.</p> + +<p>"But how can I walk beside thee in this habit?"</p> + +<p>"I have brought the gown and cowl of thy holy order. Hide +thy bravery with them. And leave thy shoes as I leave these" +(pointing to his horseman's boots).</p> + +<p>She collected her jewels and ornaments.</p> + +<p>"What are these for?" inquired Clement.</p> + +<p>"To present to the convent, father."</p> + +<p>"Their source is too impure."</p> + +<p>"But," objected the penitent, "it would be a sin to leave them +here. They can be sold to feed the poor."</p> + +<p>"Mary, fix thine eye on this crucifix, and trample those devilish +baubles beneath thy feet."</p> + +<p>She hesitated; but soon threw them down and trampled on them.</p> + +<p>"Now open the window and fling them out on that dung-hill. +'Tis well done. So pass the wages of sin from thy hands, its glittering +yoke from thy neck, its pollution from thy soul. Away, +daughter of St. Francis, we tarry in this vile place too long." She +followed him.</p> + +<p>But they were not clear yet.</p> + +<p>At first the landlord was so astounded at seeing a black friar +and a grey nun pass through his kitchen from the inside, that he +gaped, and muttered "Why, what mummery is this?" But he +soon comprehended the matter, and whipped in between the fugitives +and the door. "What ho! Reuben! Carl! Gavin! here is +a false friar spiriting away our Janet."</p> + +<p>The men came running in with threatening looks. The friar +rushed at them crucifix in hand. "Forbear," he cried, in a stentorian +voice. "She is a holy nun returning to her vows. The +hand that touches her cowl, or her robe, to stay her, it shall wither, +his body shall lie unburied, cursed by Rome, and his soul shall<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_578" id="Page_578">[578]</a></span> +roast in eternal fire." They shrank back as if a flame had met +them. "And thou—miserable panderer!—"</p> + +<p>He did not end the sentence in words, but seized the man by the +neck, and, strong as a lion in his moments of hot excitement, +whirled him furiously from the door and sent him all across the +room, pitching headforemost on to the stone floor; then tore the +door open and carried the screaming nun out into the road. "Hush! +poor trembler," he gasped; "they dare not molest thee on the high +road. Away!"</p> + +<p>The landlord lay terrified, half stunned, and bleeding: and Mary, +though she often looked back apprehensively, saw no more of +him.</p> + +<p>On the road he bade her observe his impetuosity.</p> + +<p>"Hitherto," said he, "we have spoken of thy faults: now for +mine. My choler is ungovernable; furious. It is by the grace +of God I am not a murderer. I repent the next moment; but a +moment too late is all too late. Mary, had the churls laid finger +on thee, I should have scattered their brains with my crucifix. Oh, +I know myself, go to; and tremble at myself. There lurketh a +wild beast beneath this black gown of mine."</p> + +<p>"Alas, father," said Mary, "were you other than you are I had +been lost. To take me from that place needed a man wary as +a fox; yet bold as a lion."</p> + +<p>Clement reflected. "Thus much is certain: God chooseth well +his fleshly instruments: and with imperfect hearts doeth his perfect +work. Glory be to God!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>When they were near the convent Mary suddenly stopped, and +seized the friar's arm, and began to cry. He looked at her kindly, +and told her she had nothing to fear. It would be the happiest +day she had ever spent. He then made her sit down and compose +herself till he should return. He entered the convent, and desired +to see the abbess.</p> + +<p>"My sister, give the glory to God: Mary is at the gate."</p> + +<p>The astonishment and delight of the abbess were unbounded. +She yielded at once to Clement's earnest request that the road of +penitence might be smoothed at first to this unstable wanderer, and, +after some opposition, she entered heartily into his views as to her +actual reception. To give time for their little preparations Clement<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_579" id="Page_579">[579]</a></span> +went slowly back, and seating himself by Mary soothed her: and +heard her confession.</p> + +<p>"The abbess has granted me that you shall propose your own +penance."</p> + +<p>"It shall be none the lighter," said she.</p> + +<p>"I trow not," said he: "but that is future: to-day is given to +joy alone."</p> + +<p>He then led her round the building to the abbess's postern. As +they went they heard musical instruments and singing.</p> + +<p>"'Tis a feast-day," said Mary: "and I come to mar it."</p> + +<p>"Hardly," said Clement, smiling; "seeing that you are the queen +of the fête."</p> + +<p>"I, father? what mean you?"</p> + +<p>"What, Mary, have you never heard that there is more joy in +heaven over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety-nine just +persons which need no repentance? Now this convent is not heaven; +nor the nuns angels; yet are there among them some angelic spirits; +and these sing and exult at thy return. And here methinks comes +one of them; for I see her hand trembles at the keyhole."</p> + +<p>The postern was flung open, and in a moment sister Ursula +clung sobbing and kissing round her friend's neck. The abbess +followed more sedately, but little less moved.</p> + +<p>Clement bade them farewell. They entreated him to stay: but +he told them with much regret he could not. He had already tried +his good brother Jerome's patience, and must hasten to the river: +and perhaps sail for England to-morrow.</p> + +<p>So Mary returned to the fold, and Clement strode briskly on towards +the Rhine, and England.</p> + +<p>This was the man for whom Margaret's boy lay in wait with her +letter.</p> + + +<div class='chaptertitle'><br />The Hearth</div> + +<p>And that letter was one of those simple, touching appeals only her +sex can write to those who have used them cruelly, and they love +them. She began by telling him of the birth of the little boy, +and the comfort he had been to her in all the distress of mind his +long and strange silence had caused her. She described the little +Gerard minutely, not forgetting the mole on his little finger. "Know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_580" id="Page_580">[580]</a></span> +you any one that hath the like on his? If you only saw him you +could not choose but be proud of him; all the mothers in the street +do envy me: but I the wives; for thou comest not to us. My own +Gerard, some say thou art dead. But if thou wert dead how could +I be alive? Others say that thou, whom I love so truly, art false. +But this will I believe from no lips but thine. My father loved +thee well; and as he lay a-dying he thought he saw thee on a great +river, with thy face turned towards thy Margaret, but sore disfigured. +Is't so, perchance? Have cruel men scarred thy sweet +face? or hast thou lost one of thy precious limbs? Why then thou +hast the more need of me, and I shall love thee not worse, alas! +thinkest thou a woman's love is light as a man's? but better, than +I did when I shed those few drops from my arm, not worth the +tears thou didst shed for them; mindest thou? 'tis not so very long +agone, dear Gerard."</p> + +<p>The letter continued in this strain, and concluded without a word +of reproach or doubt as to his faith and affection. Not that she was +free from most distressing doubts: but they were not certainties; +and to show them might turn the scale, and frighten him away +from her with fear of being scolded. And of this letter she made +soft Luke the bearer.</p> + +<p>So she was not an angel after all.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Luke mingled with the passengers of two boats, and could hear +nothing of Gerard Eliassoen. Nor did this surprise him. He was +more surprised when, at the third attempt, a black friar said to him, +somewhat severely, "And what would you with him you call Gerard +Eliassoen?"</p> + +<p>"Why, father, if he is alive I have got a letter for him."</p> + +<p>"Humph!" said Jerome. "I am sorry for it. However, the +flesh is weak. Well, my son, he you seek will be here by the next +boat, or the next boat after. And if he chooses to answer to that +name—After all, I am not the keeper of his conscience."</p> + +<p>"Good father, one plain word, for Heaven's sake. This Gerard +Eliassoen of Tergou—is he alive?"</p> + +<p>"Humph! Why, certes, he that went by that name is alive."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, that is settled," said Luke, drily. But the next moment +he found it necessary to run out of sight and blubber.</p> + +<p>"Oh, why did the Lord make any women?" said he to himself.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_581" id="Page_581">[581]</a></span> +"I was content with the world till I fell in love. Here his little +finger is more to her than my whole body, and he is not dead. And +here I have got to give him this." He looked at the letter and +dashed it on the ground. But he picked it up again with a spiteful +snatch, and went to the landlord, with tears in his eyes, and begged +for work. The landlord declined, said he had his own people.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I seek not your money," said Luke. "I only want some +work to keep me from breaking my heart about another man's lass."</p> + +<p>"Good lad! good lad!" exploded the landlord; and found him lots +of barrels to mend—on these terms. And he coopered with fury in +the interval of the boats coming down the Rhine.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXV</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Hearth</div> + + +<div class='cap'>WRITING an earnest letter seldom leaves the mind in +<i>statu quo</i>. Margaret, in hers, vented her energy and +her faith in her dying father's vision, or illusion; and, +when this was done, and Luke gone, she wondered at her credulity, +and her conscience pricked her about Luke; and Catherine came and +scolded her, and she paid the price of false hopes, and elevation of +spirits, by falling into deeper despondency. She was found in this +state by a stanch friend she had lately made; Joan Ketel. This +good woman came in radiant with an idea.</div> + +<p>"Margaret, I know the cure for thine ill: the hermit of Gouda, a +wondrous holy man. Why, he can tell what is coming, when he is +in the mood."</p> + +<p>"Ay, I have heard of him," said Margaret hopelessly. Joan with +some difficulty persuaded her to walk out as far as Gouda, and consult +the hermit. They took some butter, and eggs, in a basket, and +went to his cave.</p> + +<p>What had made the pair such fast friends? Jorian some six +weeks ago fell ill of a bowel disease; it began with raging pain; +and when this went off, leaving him weak, an awkward symptom +succeeded; nothing, either liquid or solid, would stay in his stomach +a minute. The doctor said: "He must die if this goes on many +hours; therefore, boil thou now a chicken with a golden angel in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_582" id="Page_582">[582]</a></span> +water, and let him sup that!" Alas! Gilt chicken broth shared +the fate of the humbler viands, its predecessors. Then the curé +steeped the thumb of St. Sergius in beef broth. Same result. +Then Joan ran weeping to Margaret to borrow some linen to make +his shroud. "Let me see him," said Margaret. She came in and +felt his pulse. "Ah!" said she, "I doubt they have not gone to +the root. Open the window! Art stifling him; now change all +his linen."</p> + +<p>"Alack, woman, what for? Why foul more linen for a dying +man?" objected the mediæval wife.</p> + +<p>"Do as thou art bid," said Margaret dully, and left the room.</p> + +<p>Joan somehow found herself doing as she was bid. Margaret +returned with her apron full of a flowering herb. She made a decoction, +and took it to the bedside; and before giving it to the patient, +took a spoonful herself, and smacked her lips hypocritically. "That +is fair," said he with a feeble attempt at humour. "Why, 'tis +sweet, and now 'tis bitter." She engaged him in conversation as +soon as he had taken it. This bitter-sweet stayed by him. Seeing +which she built on it as cards are built: mixed a very little +schiedam in the third spoonful, and a little beaten yolk of +egg in the seventh. And so with the patience of her sex +she coaxed his body out of Death's grasp; and finally, Nature, being +patted on the back, instead of kicked under the bed, set Jorian +Ketel on his legs again. But the doctress made them both swear +never to tell a soul her guilty deed. "They would put me in +prison, away from my child."</p> + +<p>The simple that saved Jorian was called sweet feverfew. She +gathered it in his own garden. Her eagle eye had seen it growing +out of the window.</p> + +<p>Margaret and Joan, then, reached the hermit's cave, and placed +their present on the little platform. Margaret then applied her +mouth to the aperture, made for that purpose, and said: "Holy +hermit, we bring thee butter and eggs of the best: and I a poor +deserted girl, wife, yet no wife, and mother of the sweetest babe, +come to pray thee tell me whether he is quick or dead, true to his +vows or false."</p> + +<p>A faint voice issued from the cave: "Trouble me not with the +things of earth, but send me a holy friar. I am dying."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_583" id="Page_583">[583]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Alas!" cried Margaret. "Is it e'en so, poor soul? Then let us +in to help thee."</p> + +<p>"Saints forbid! Thine is a woman's voice. Send me a holy +friar!"</p> + +<p>They went back as they came. Joan could not help saying, +"Are women imps o' darkness then, that they must not come anigh +a dying bed?"</p> + +<p>But Margaret was too deeply dejected to say anything. Joan +applied rough consolation. But she was not listened to till she said: +"And Jorian will speak out ere long; he is just on the boil. He +is very grateful to thee, believe it."</p> + +<p>"Seeing is believing," replied Margaret with quiet bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Not but what he thinks you might have saved him with something +more out o' the common than yon. 'A man of my inches to be +cured wi' feverfew,' says he. 'Why, if there is a sorry herb,' says +he. 'Why, I was thinking o' pulling all mine up,' says he. I up +and told him remedies were none the better for being far-fetched; +you and feverfew cured him, when the grand medicines came up +faster than they went down. So says I, 'You may go down on +your four bones to feverfew.' But indeed, he is grateful at bottom; +you are all his thought and all his chat. But he sees Gerard's +folk coming around ye, and good friends, and he said only last +night—"</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"He made me vow not to tell ye."</p> + +<p>"Prithee, tell me."</p> + +<p>"Well, he said: 'An' if I tell what little I know, it won't bring +him back, and it will set them all by the ears. I wish I had more +head-piece,' said he, 'I am sore perplexed. But least said is soonest +mended.' Yon is his favourite word; he comes back to't from a +mile off."</p> + +<p>Margaret shook her head. "Ay, we are wading in deep waters, +my poor babe and me."</p> + +<p>It was Saturday night: and no Luke.</p> + +<p>"Poor Luke!" said Margaret. "It was very good of him to go on +such an errand."</p> + +<p>"He is one out of a hundred," replied Catherine warmly.</p> + +<p>"Mother, do you think he would be kind to little Gerard?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_584" id="Page_584">[584]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I am sure he would. So do you be kinder to <i>him</i> when he comes +back! Will ye now?"</p> + +<p>"Ay."</p> + + +<div class='chaptertitle'><br />The Cloister</div> + +<p>Brother Clement, directed by the nuns, avoided a bend in the +river, and, striding lustily forward, reached a station some miles +nearer the coast than that where Luke lay in wait for Gerard Eliassoen. +And the next morning he started early, and was in Rotterdam +at noon. He made at once for the port, not to keep Jerome +waiting.</p> + +<p>He observed several monks of his order on the quay; he went to +them: but Jerome was not amongst them. He asked one of them +whether Jerome had arrived? "Surely, brother," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Prithee, where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Where? Why, there!" said the monk, pointing to a ship in full +sail. And Clement now noticed that all the monks were looking +seaward.</p> + +<p>"What, gone without me! Oh Jerome! Jerome!" cried he in +a voice of anguish. Several of the friars turned round and stared.</p> + +<p>"You must be brother Clement," said one of them at length; and +on this they kissed him and greeted him with brotherly warmth, +and gave him a letter Jerome had charged them with for him. It +was a hasty scrawl. The writer told him coldly a ship was about +to sail for England, and he was loth to lose time. He (Clement) +might follow if he pleased, but he would do much better to stay +behind, and preach to his own country folk. "Give the glory to +God, brother; you have a wonderful power over Dutch hearts: +but you are no match for those haughty islanders: you are too +tender.</p> + +<p>"Know thou that on the way I met one, who asked me for thee +under the name thou didst bear in the world. Be on thy guard! +Let not the world catch thee again by any silken net. And remember, +Solitude, Fasting, and Prayer are the sword, spear, and +shield of the soul. Farewell."</p> + +<p>Clement was deeply shocked and mortified at this contemptuous +desertion, and this cold-blooded missive.</p> + +<p>He promised the good monks to sleep at the convent, and to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_585" id="Page_585">[585]</a></span> +preach wherever the prior should appoint (for Jerome had raised +him to the skies as a preacher), and then withdrew abruptly, for +he was cut to the quick, and wanted to be alone. He asked himself, +was there some incurable fault in him, repulsive to so true +a son of Dominic? Or was Jerome himself devoid of that Christian +Love which St. Paul had placed above Faith itself? Shipwrecked +with him, and saved on the same fragment of the wreck; +his pupil, his penitent, his son in the Church, and now for four +hundred miles his fellow-traveller in Christ; and to be shaken off +like dirt, the first opportunity, with harsh and cold disdain. "Why, +worldly hearts are no colder nor less trusty than this," said he. +"The only one that ever really loved me lies in a grave hard by. +Fly me, fly to England, man born without a heart; I will go +and pray over a grave at Sevenbergen."</p> + +<p>Three hours later he passed Peter's cottage. A troop of noisy +children were playing about the door, and the house had been repaired, +and a new outhouse added. He turned his head hastily +away, not to disturb a picture his memory treasured; and went to +the churchyard.</p> + +<p>He sought among the tombstones for Margaret's. He could +not find it. He could not believe they had begrudged her a tombstone, +so searched the churchyard all over again.</p> + +<p>"Oh, poverty! stern poverty! Poor soul, thou wert like me; no +one was left that loved thee, when Gerard was gone."</p> + +<p>He went into the church, and after kissing the steps, prayed long +and earnestly for the soul of her whose resting-place he could not +find.</p> + +<p>Coming out of the church he saw a very old man looking over +the little churchyard gate. He went towards him, and asked him +did he live in the place.</p> + +<p>"Four score and twelve years, man and boy. And I come here +every day of late, holy father, to take a peep. This is where I +look to bide ere long."</p> + +<p>"My son, can you tell me where Margaret lies?"</p> + +<p>"Margaret? There's a many Margarets here."</p> + +<p>"Margaret Brandt. She was daughter to a learned physician."</p> + +<p>"As if I didn't know that," said the old man, pettishly. "But +she doesn't lie here. Bless you, they left this a longful while ago. +Gone in a moment, and the house empty. What, is she dead?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_586" id="Page_586">[586]</a></span> +Margaret a Peter dead? Now only think on't. Like enow; like +enow. They great towns do terribly disagree wi' country folk."</p> + +<p>"What great towns, my son?"</p> + +<p>"Well 'twas Rotterdam they went to from here, so I heard tell; +or was it Amsterdam? Nay, I trow 'twas Rotterdam. And gone +there to die!"</p> + +<p>Clement sighed.</p> + +<p>"'Twas not in her face now, that I saw. And I can mostly tell. +Alack, there was a blooming young flower to be cut off so soon, and +an old weed like me left standing still. Well, well, she was a +May rose yon; dear heart, what a winsome smile she had, and—"</p> + +<p>"God bless thee, my son," said Clement; "farewell!" and he +hurried away.</p> + +<p>He reached the convent at sunset, and watched and prayed in the +chapel for Jerome, and Margaret, till it was long past midnight, and +his soul had recovered its cold calm.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXVI</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Hearth</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE next day, Sunday, after mass, was a bustling day at +Catherine's house in the Hoog Straet. The shop was now +quite ready, and Cornelis and Sybrandt were to open it +next day; their names were above the door; also their sign, a white +lamb sucking a gilt sheep. Eli had come, and brought them some +more goods from his store to give them a good start. The hearts +of the parents glowed at what they were doing, and the pair themselves +walked in the garden together, and agreed they were sick of +their old life, and it was more pleasant to make money than waste +it; they vowed to stick to business like wax. Their mother's quick +and ever watchful ear overheard this resolution through an open +window and she told Eli. The family supper was to include +Margaret and her boy, and be a kind of inaugural feast, at which +good trade advice was to flow from the elders, and good wine to be +drunk to the success of the converts to Commerce from Agriculture +in its unremunerative form,—wild oats. So Margaret had come<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_587" id="Page_587">[587]</a></span> +over to help her mother-in-law, and also to shake off her own deep +languor; and both their faces were as red as the fire. Presently in +came Joan with a salad from Jorian's garden.</div> + +<p>"He cut it for you, Margaret; you are all his chat; I shall be +jealous. I told him you were to feast to-day. But oh, lass, what +a sermon in the new kerk! Preaching? I never heard it till this +day."</p> + +<p>"Would I had been there then," said Margaret; "for I am dried +up for want of dew from heaven."</p> + +<p>"Why, he preacheth again this afternoon. But mayhap you are +wanted here."</p> + +<p>"Not she," said Catherine. "Come, away ye go, if y' are minded."</p> + +<p>"Indeed," said Margaret, "methinks I should not be such a damper +at table if I could come to't warm from a good sermon."</p> + +<p>"Then you must be brisk," observed Joan. "See the folk are +wending that way, and as I live, there goes the holy friar. Oh +bless us and save us, Margaret; the hermit! We forgot." And +this active woman bounded out of the house, and ran across the road, +and stopped the friar. She returned as quickly. "There, I was +bent on seeing him nigh hand."</p> + +<p>"What said he to thee?"</p> + +<p>"Says he, 'My daughter, I will go to him ere sunset, God willing.' +The sweetest voice. But, oh, my mistresses, what thin cheeks for +a young man, and great eyes, not far from your colour, Margaret."</p> + +<p>"I have a great mind to go hear him," said Margaret. "But my +cap is not very clean, and they will all be there in their snow-white +mutches."</p> + +<p>"There, take my handkerchief out of the basket," said Catherine; +"you cannot have the child, I want him for my poor Kate. It is +one of her ill days."</p> + +<p>Margaret replied by taking the boy upstairs. She found Kate +in bed.</p> + +<p>"How art thou, sweetheart? Nay, I need not ask. Thou art +in sore pain; thou smilest so. See, I have brought thee one thou +lovest."</p> + +<p>"Two, by my way of counting," said Kate, with an angelic smile. +She had a spasm at that moment would have made some of us roar +like bulls.</p> + +<p>"What, in your lap?" said Margaret, answering a gesture of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_588" id="Page_588">[588]</a></span> +the suffering girl. "Nay, he is too heavy, and thou in such pain."</p> + +<p>"I love him too dear to feel his weight," was the reply.</p> + +<p>Margaret took this opportunity, and made her toilet. "I am for +the kerk," said she, "to hear a beautiful preacher." Kate sighed. +"And a minute ago, Kate, I was all agog to go: that is the way with +me this month past; up and down, up and down, like the waves of +the Zuyder Zee. I'd as lieve stay aside thee; say the word!"</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Kate, "prithee go; and bring me back every word. +Well-a-day that I cannot go myself." And the tears stood in the +patient's eyes. This decided Margaret, and she kissed Kate, looked +under her lashes at the boy, and heaved a little sigh.</p> + +<p>"I trow I must not," said she. "I never could kiss him a little; +and my father was dead against waking a child by day or night. +When 'tis thy pleasure to wake, speak thy aunt Kate the two new +words thou hast gotten." And she went out, looking lovingly over +her shoulder, and shut the door inaudibly.</p> + +<p>"Joan, you will lend me a hand, and peel these?" said Catherine.</p> + +<p>"That I will dame." And the cooking proceeded with silent +vigour.</p> + +<p>"Now, Joan, them which help me cook and serve the meat, they +help me eat it; that's a rule."</p> + +<p>"There's worse laws in Holland than that. Your will is my +pleasure, mistress; for my Luke hath got his supper i' the air. He +is digging to-day, by good luck." (Margaret came down.)</p> + +<p>"Eh, woman, yon is an ugly trade. There, she has just washed +her face and gi'en her hair a turn, and now who is like her? Rotterdam, +that for you!" and Catherine snapped her fingers at the capital. +"Give us a buss, hussy! Now mind, Eli won't wait supper for the +duke. Wherefore, loiter not after your kerk is over."</p> + +<p>Joan and she both followed her to the door, and stood at it watching +her a good way down the street. For among homely housewives +going out o' doors is half an incident. Catherine commented on +the launch; "there, Joan, it is almost to me as if I had just started +my own daughter for kerk, and stood a looking after; the which I've +done it manys and manys the times. Joan, lass, she won't hear a +word against our Gerard; and, be he alive, he has used her cruel; +that is why my bowels yearn for the poor wench. I'm older and +wiser than she; and so I'll wed her to yon simple Luke, and there +an end. What's one grandchild?"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_589" id="Page_589">[589]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXVII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Cloister and The Hearth</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE sermon had begun when Margaret entered the great +church of St. Laurens. It was a huge edifice, far from +completed. Churches were not built in a year. The side +aisles were roofed, but not the mid aisle nor the chancel; the pillars +and arches were pretty perfect, and some of them whitewashed. +But only one window in the whole church was glazed; the rest were +at present great jagged openings in the outer walls.</div> + +<p>But to-day all these uncouth imperfections made the church beautiful. +It was a glorious summer afternoon, and the sunshine came +broken into marvellous forms through those irregular openings, and +played bewitching pranks upon so many broken surfaces.</p> + +<p>It streamed through the gaping walls, and clove the dark cool side +aisles with rivers of glory, and dazzled and glowed on the white +pillars beyond.</p> + +<p>And nearly the whole central aisle was chequered with light and +shade in broken outlines; the shades seeming cooler and more soothing +than ever shade was, and the light like patches of amber diamond, +animated with heavenly fire. And above, from west to east the blue +sky vaulted the lofty aisle, and seemed quite close.</p> + +<p>The sunny caps of the women made a sea of white contrasting +exquisitely with that vivid vault of blue.</p> + +<p>For the mid aisle huge as it was, was crammed, yet quite still. +The words and the mellow, gentle, earnest voice of the preacher +held them mute.</p> + +<p>Margaret stood spell-bound at the beauty, the devotion, "the +great calm." She got behind a pillar in the north aisle; and there, +though she could hardly catch a word, a sweet devotional languor +crept over her at the loveliness of the place and the preacher's musical +voice: and balmy oil seemed to trickle over the waves in her +heart and smooth them. So she leaned against the pillar with eyes +half closed, and all seemed soft and dreamy. She felt it good to be +there.</p> + +<p>Presently she saw a lady leave an excellent place opposite, to get<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_590" id="Page_590">[590]</a></span> +out of the sun, which was indeed pouring on her head from the window. +Margaret went round softly but swiftly; and was fortunate +enough to get the place. She was now beside a pillar of the south +aisle, and not above fifty feet from the preacher. She was at his side, +a little behind him, but could hear every word.</p> + +<p>Her attention however was soon distracted by the shadow of a man's +head and shoulders bobbing up and down so drolly she had some +ado to keep from smiling.</p> + +<p>Yet it was nothing essentially droll.</p> + +<p>It was the sexton digging.</p> + +<p>She found that out in a moment by looking behind her, through +the window, to whence the shadow came.</p> + +<p>Now as she was looking at Jorian Ketel digging, suddenly a tone +of the preacher's voice fell upon her ear and her mind so distinctly, +it seemed literally to strike her, and make her vibrate inside and out.</p> + +<p>Her hand went to her bosom, so strange and sudden was the thrill. +Then she turned round and looked at the preacher. His back was +turned and nothing visible but his tonsure. She sighed. That tonsure +being all she saw, contradicted the tone effectually.</p> + +<p>Yet she now leaned a little forward with downcast eyes, hoping for +that accent again. It did not come. But the whole voice grew +strangely upon her. It rose and fell as the preacher warmed: and +it seemed to waken faint echoes of a thousand happy memories. She +would not look to dispel the melancholy pleasure this voice gave her.</p> + +<p>Presently, in the middle of an eloquent period, the preacher +stopped.</p> + +<p>She almost sighed; a soothing music had ended. Could the sermon +be ended already? No: she looked around; the people did not move.</p> + +<p>A good many faces seemed now to turn her way. She looked +behind her sharply. There was nothing there.</p> + +<p>Startled countenances near her now eyed the preacher. She +followed their looks; and there, in the pulpit, was a face of a staring +corpse. The friar's eyes, naturally large, and made larger by the +thinness of his cheeks, were dilated to supernatural size, and glaring, +her way, out of a bloodless face.</p> + +<p>She cringed and turned fearfully round; for she thought there +must be some terrible thing near her. No: there was nothing; she +was the outside figure of the listening crowd.</p> + +<p>At this moment the church fell into commotion. Figures got up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_591" id="Page_591">[591]</a></span> +all over the building, and craned forward; agitated faces by hundreds +gazed from the friar to Margaret, and from Margaret to the friar. +The turning to and fro of so many caps made a loud rustle. Then +came shrieks of nervous women, and buzzing of men: and Margaret, +seeing so many eyes levelled at her, shrank terrified behind the pillar, +with one scared, hurried glance at the preacher.</p> + +<p>Momentary as that glance was, it caught in that stricken face an +expression that made her shiver.</p> + +<p>She turned faint and sat down on a heap of chips the workmen +had left, and buried her face in her hands. The sermon went on +again. She heard the sound of it; but not the sense. She tried +to think, but her mind was in a whirl. Thought would fix itself +in no shape but this: that on that prodigy-stricken face she had seen +a look stamped. And the recollection of that look now made her +quiver from head to foot.</p> + +<p>For that look was "RECOGNITION."</p> + +<p>The sermon, after wavering some time, ended in a strain of exalted, +nay, feverish eloquence, that went far to make the crowd forget the +preacher's strange pause and ghastly glare.</p> + +<p>Margaret mingled hastily with the crowd, and went out of the +church with them.</p> + +<p>They went their ways home. But she turned at the door, and +went into the churchyard; to Peter's grave. Poor as she was, +she had given him a slab and a headstone. She sat down on the +slab, and kissed it. Then threw her apron over her head that no +one might distinguish her by her hair.</p> + +<p>"Father," she said, "thou hast often heard me say I am wading +in deep waters; but now I begin to think God only knows the bottom +of them. I'll follow that friar round the world, but I'll see him at +arm's length. And he shall tell me why he looked towards me like +a dead man wakened: and not a soul behind me. Oh father; you +often praised me here: speak a word for me <i>there</i>. For I am +wading in deep waters."</p> + +<p>Her father's tomb commanded a side view of the church door.</p> + +<p>And on that tomb she sat, with her face covered, waylaying the +holy preacher.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_592" id="Page_592">[592]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXVIII</h2> + +<div class='chaptertitle'>The Cloister and The Hearth</div> + + +<div class='cap'>THE cool church, chequered with sunbeams and crowned +with heavenly purple, soothed and charmed father Clement, +as it did Margaret; and more, it carried his mind direct +to the Creator of all good and pure delights. Then his eye fell on +the great aisle crammed with his country-folk; a thousand snowy +caps, filigreed with gold. Many a hundred leagues he had travelled; +but seen nothing like them, except snow. In the morning he had +thundered: but this sweet afternoon seemed out of tune with threats. +His bowels yearned over that multitude; and he must tell them of +God's love: poor souls, they heard almost as little of it from the +pulpit then a days as the heathen used. He told them the glad +tidings of salvation. The people hung upon his gentle, earnest +tongue.</div> + +<p>He was not one of those preachers who keep gyrating in the pulpit +like the weathercock on the steeple. He moved the hearts of others +more than his own body. But on the other hand he did not entirely +neglect those who were in bad places. And presently, warm with this +theme, that none of all that multitude might miss the joyful tidings +of Christ's love, he turned him towards the south aisle.</p> + +<p>And there, in a stream of sunshine from the window, was the +radiant face of Margaret Brandt. He gazed at it without emotion. +It just benumbed him soul and body.</p> + +<p>But soon the words died in his throat, and he trembled as he +glared at it.</p> + +<p>There, with her auburn hair bathed in sunbeams, and glittering +like the gloriola of a saint, and her face glowing doubly, with its +own beauty, and the sunshine it was set in—stood his dead love.</p> + +<p>She was leaning very lightly against a white column. She was +listening with tender, downcast lashes.</p> + +<p>He had seen her listen so to him a hundred times.</p> + +<p>There was no change in <i>her</i>. This was the blooming Margaret +he had left: only a shade riper and more lovely.</p> + +<p>He stared at her with monstrous eyes and bloodless cheeks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_593" id="Page_593">[593]</a></span></p> + +<p>The people died out of his sight. He heard, as in a dream, a +rustling and rising all over the church; but could not take his +prodigy-stricken eyes off that face, all life, and bloom, and beauty, +and that wondrous auburn hair glistening gloriously in the sun.</p> + +<p>He gazed, thinking she must vanish.</p> + +<p>She remained.</p> + +<p>All in a moment she was looking at him, full.</p> + +<p>Her own violet eyes!!</p> + +<p>At this he was beside himself, and his lips parted to shriek out +her name, when she turned her head swiftly, and soon after vanished, +but not without one more glance, which, though rapid as lightning, +encountered his, and left her crouching and quivering with her mind +in a whirl, and him panting and gripping the pulpit convulsively. +For this glance of hers, though not recognition, was the startled +inquiring, nameless, indescribable look, that precedes recognition. +He made a mighty effort, and muttered something nobody could +understand: then feebly resumed his discourse; and stammered and +babbled on a while, till by degrees forcing himself, now she was out +of sight, to look on it as a vision from the other world, he rose into +a state of unnatural excitement, and concluded in a style of eloquence +that electrified the simple; for it bordered on rhapsody.</p> + +<p>The sermon ended, he sat down on the pulpit stool, terribly shaken. +But presently an idea very characteristic of the time took possession +of him. He had sought her grave at Sevenbergen in vain. She had +now been permitted to appear to him, and show him that she was +buried <i>here;</i> probably hard by that very pillar, where her spirit +had showed itself to him.</p> + +<p>This idea once adopted soon settled on his mind with all the certainty +of a fact. And he felt he had only to speak to the sexton, +(whom to his great disgust he had seen working during the sermon) +to learn the spot, where she was laid.</p> + +<p>The church was now quite empty. He came down from the +pulpit and stepped through an aperture in the south wall onto the +grass, and went up to the sexton. He knew him in a moment. But +Jorian never suspected the poor lad, whose life he had saved, in this +holy friar. The loss of his shapely beard had wonderfully altered +the outline of his face. This had changed him even more than his +tonsure, his short hair sprinkled with premature grey, and his cheeks +thinned and paled by fasts and vigils.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_594" id="Page_594">[594]</a></span><a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a></p> + +<p>"My son," said friar Clement, softly, "if you keep any memory +of those whom you lay in the earth, prithee tell me is any Christian +buried inside the church, near one of the pillars."</p> + +<p>"Nay, father," said Jorian, "here in the churchyard lie buried all +that buried be. Why?"</p> + +<p>"No matter. Prithee tell me then where lieth Margaret Brandt."</p> + +<p>"Margaret Brandt?" And Jorian stared stupidly at the speaker.</p> + +<p>"She died about three years ago, and was buried here."</p> + +<p>"Oh, that is another matter," said Jorian; "that was before my +time; the vicar could tell you, likely; if so be she was a gentlewoman, +or at least rich enough to pay him his fee."</p> + +<p>"Alas, my son, she was poor (and paid a heavy penalty for it); +but born of decent folk. Her father, Peter, was a learned physician; +she came hither from Sevenbergen—to die."</p> + +<p>When Clement had uttered these words his head sunk upon his +breast, and he seemed to have no power nor wish to question +Jorian more. I doubt even if he knew where he was. He was +lost in the past.</p> + +<p>Jorian put down his spade, and standing upright in the grave, +set his arms akimbo, and said sulkily, "Are you making a fool of me, +holy sir, or has some wag been making a fool of you?"</p> + +<p>And having relieved his mind thus, he proceeded to dig again, +with a certain vigour that showed his somewhat irritable temper +was ruffled.</p> + +<p>Clement gazed at him with a puzzled but gently reproachful eye; +for the tone was rude, and the words unintelligible.</p> + +<p>Good natured, though crusty, Jorian had not thrown up three +spadesful ere he became ashamed of it himself. "Why what a +base churl am I to speak thus to thee, holy father; and thou standing +there, looking at me like a lamb. Aha! I have it; 'tis Peter Brandt's +grave, you would fain see, not Margaret's. He does lie here; hard by +the west door. There; I'll show you." And he laid down his +spade, and put on his doublet and jerkin to go with the friar.</p> + +<p>He did not know there was anybody sitting on Peter's tomb. +Still less that she was watching for this holy friar.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_595" id="Page_595">[595]</a></span></p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER LXXXIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>WHILE Jorian was putting on his doublet and jerkin to +go to Peter's tomb, his tongue was not idle. "They used +to call him a magician out Sevenbergen way. And they +do say he gave 'em a touch of his trade at parting; told 'em he saw +Margaret's lad a coming down Rhine in brave clothes and store o' +money, but his face scarred by foreign glaive, and not altogether so +many arms and legs as a went away wi'. But, dear heart, nought +came on't. Margaret is still wearying for her lad; and Peter, he +lies as quiet as his neighbours, not but what she hath put a stone slab +over him, to keep him where he is: as you shall see."</div> + +<p>He put both hands on the edge of the grave, and was about to +raise himself out of it, but the friar laid a trembling hand on his +shoulder, and said in a strange whisper—</p> + +<p>"How long since died Peter Brandt?"</p> + +<p>"About two months. Why?"</p> + +<p>"And his daughter buried him, say you?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I buried him, but she paid the fee and reared the stone. +Why?"</p> + +<p>"Then—but he had but one daughter; Margaret?"</p> + +<p>"No more; leastways, that he owned to."</p> + +<p>"Then you think Margaret is—is alive?"</p> + +<p>"Think? Why I should be dead else. Riddle me that."</p> + +<p>"Alas, how can I? You love her!"</p> + +<p>"No more than reason, being a married man and father of four +more sturdy knaves like myself. Nay, the answer is, she saved my +life scarce six weeks agone. Now had she been dead she couldn't +ha' kept me alive. Bless your heart I couldn't keep a thing on my +stomach; nor doctors couldn't make me. My Joan says, ''Tis +time to buy thee a shroud.' 'I dare say, so 'tis,' says I; 'but try +and borrow one first.' In comes my lady, this Margaret, which she +died three years ago, by your way on't, opens the windows, makes +'em shift me where I lay, and cures me in the twinkling of a bed +post; but wi' what? there pinches the shoe; with the scurviest herb, +and out of my own garden, too; with sweet feverfew. A herb, +quotha, 'tis a weed; leastways it was a weed till it cured me; but now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_596" id="Page_596">[596]</a></span> +whene'er I pass my bunch I doff bonnet, and, says I, 'My service +t'ye.' Why, how now, father, you look wondrous pale, and now you +are red; and now you are white? Why, what is the matter? What +in Heaven's name is the matter?"</p> + +<p>"The surprise—the joy—the wonder—the fear," gasped Clement.</p> + +<p>"Why what is it to thee? Art thou of kin to Margaret Brandt?"</p> + +<p>"Nay; but I knew one that loved her well, so well her death nigh +killed him, body and soul. And yet thou sayest she lives. And I +believe thee."</p> + +<p>Jorian stared, and after a considerable silence, said very gravely, +"Father, you have asked me many questions, and I have answered +them truly; now for our Lady's sake answer me but two. Did you +in very sooth know one who loved this poor lass? Where?"</p> + +<p>Clement was on the point of revealing himself, but he remembered +Jerome's letter, and shrank from being called by the name he had +borne in the world.</p> + +<p>"I knew him in Italy," said he.</p> + +<p>"If you knew him you can tell me his name," said Jorian, cautiously.</p> + +<p>"His name was Gerard Eliassoen."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but this is strange. Stay, what made thee say Margaret +Brandt was dead?"</p> + +<p>"I was with Gerard when a letter came from Margaret Van Eyck. +The letter told him she he loved was dead and buried. Let me sit +down, for my strength fails me. Foul play! Foul play!"</p> + +<p>"Father," said Jorian, "I thank Heaven for sending thee to me. +Ay, sit ye down; ye do look like a ghost; ye fast overmuch to be +strong. My mind misgives me; methinks I hold the clue to this riddle, +and, if I do, there be two knaves in this town whose heads I +would fain batter to pieces as I do this mould"; and he clenched his +teeth and raised his long spade above his head, and brought it +furiously down upon the heap several times. "Foul play? You +never said a truer word i' your life; and, if you know where Gerard +is now, lose no time, but show him the trap they have laid for him. +Mine is but a dull head, but whiles the slow hound puzzles out the +scent—go to. And I do think you and I ha' got hold of two ends +o' one stick, and a main foul one."</p> + +<p>Jorian then, after some of those useless preliminaries men of his +class always deal in, came to the point of his story. He had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_597" id="Page_597">[597]</a></span> +employed by the burgomaster of Tergou to repair the floor of an upper +room in his house, and, when it was almost done, coming suddenly +to fetch away his tools, curiosity had been excited by some loud words +below, and he had lain down on his stomach, and heard the burgomaster +talking about a letter, which Cornelis and Sybrandt were +minded to convey into the place of one that a certain Hans Memling +was taking to Gerard: "and it seems their will was good, but their +stomach was small; so to give them courage the old man showed them +a drawer full of silver, and if they did the trick they should each put +a hand in, and have all the silver they could hold in't. Well, father," +continued Jorian, "I thought not much on't at the time, except for +the bargain itself, <i>that</i> kept me awake mostly all night. Think on't! +Next morning at peep of day who should I see but my masters Cornelis +and Sybrandt come out of their house each with a black eye. +'Oho,' says I, 'what yon Hans hath put his mark on ye; well now +I hope that is all you have got for your pains.' Didn't they make +for the burgomaster's house? I to my hiding-place."</p> + +<p>At this part of Jorian's revelation the monk's nostril dilated, +and his restless eye showed the suspense he was in.</p> + +<p>"Well, father," continued Jorian, "the burgomaster brought them +into that same room. He had a letter in his hand; but I am no +scholar; however, I have got as many eyes in my head as the Pope +hath, and I saw the drawer opened, and those two knaves put in +each a hand and draw it out full. And, saints in glory, how they +tried to hold more, and more, and more o' yon stuff! And Sybrandt, +he had daubed his hand in something sticky, I think 'twas +glue, and he made shift to carry one or two pieces away a sticking +to the back of his hand, he! he! he! 'Tis a sin to laugh. So you +see luck was on the wrong side as usual; they had done the trick; +but how they did it, that, methinks, will never be known till doomsday. +Go to, they left their immortal jewels in yon drawer. Well, +they got a handful of silver for them; the devil had the worst o' +yon bargain. There, father, that is off my mind; often I longed to +tell it some one, but I durst not to the women; or Margaret would +not have had a friend left in the world; for those two black-hearted +villains are the favourites. 'Tis always so. Have not the old +folk just taken a brave new shop for them in this very town, in the +Hoog Straet? There may you see their sign, a gilt sheep and a +lambkin; a brace of wolves sucking their dam would be nigher the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_598" id="Page_598">[598]</a></span> +mark. And there the whole family feast this day; oh, 'tis a fine +world. What, not a word, holy father; you sit there like stone, +and have not even a curse to bestow on them, the stony-hearted +miscreants. What, was it not enough the poor lad was all alone +in a strange land; must his own flesh and blood go and lie away the +one blessing his enemies had left him? And then think of her pining +and pining all these years, and sitting at the window looking +adown the street for Gerard! and so constant, so tender, and +true: my wife says she is sure no woman ever loved a man truer, +than she loves the lad those villains have parted from her: and +the day never passes but she weeps salt tears for him. And, when +I think, that, but for those two greedy lying knaves, yon winsome lad, +whose life I saved, might be by her side this day the happiest he +in Holland; and the sweet lass, that saved my life, might be sitting +with her cheek upon her sweetheart's shoulder, the happiest she in +Holland in place of the saddest; oh, I thirst for their blood, the +nasty, sneaking, lying, cogging, cowardly, heartless, bowelless—how +now?!"</p> + +<p>The monk started wildly up, livid with fury and despair, and +rushed headlong from the place with both hands clenched and raised +on high. So terrible was this inarticulate burst of fury, that Jorian's +puny ire died out at sight of it, and he stood looking dismayed +after the human tempest he had launched.</p> + +<p>While thus absorbed he felt his arm grasped by a small, tremulous, +hand.</p> + +<p>It was Margaret Brandt.</p> + +<p>He started: her coming there just then seemed so strange.</p> + +<p>She had waited long on Peter's tombstone, but the friar did not +come. So she went into the church to see if he was there still. +She could not find him.</p> + +<p>Presently, going up the south aisle, the gigantic shadow of a friar +came rapidly along the floor and part of a pillar, and seemed to +pass through her. She was near screaming: but in a moment remembered +Jorian's shadow had come in so from the churchyard: +and tried to clamber out the nearest way. She did so, but with +some difficulty; and by that time Clement was just disappearing +down the street: yet, so expressive at times is the body as well as +the face, she could see he was greatly agitated. Jorian and she +looked at one another, and at the wild figure of the distant friar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_599" id="Page_599">[599]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well?" said she to Jorian, trembling.</p> + +<p>"Well," said he, "you startled me. How come you here of all +people?"</p> + +<p>"Is this a time for idle chat? What said he to you? He has +been speaking to you; deny it not."</p> + +<p>"Girl, as I stand here, he asked me, where-about you were buried +in this churchyard."</p> + +<p>"Ah?"</p> + +<p>"I told him, nowhere, thank Heaven: you were alive and saving +other folk from the churchyard."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"Well, the long and the short is, he knew thy Gerard in Italy: +and a letter came, saying you were dead; and it broke thy poor +lad's heart. Let me see; who was the letter written by? Oh, by +the demoiselle Van Eyck. That was <i>his</i> way of it. But I up and +told him nay; 'twas neither demoiselle nor dame that penned yon +lie, but Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, and those foul knaves, Cornelis +and Sybrandt; these changed the true letter for one of their own; +I told him as how I saw the whole villainy done, through a chink; +and now, if I have not been and told you!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, cruel! cruel! But he lives. The fear of fears is gone. +Thank God!"</p> + +<p>"Ay, lass; and as for thine enemies, I have given them a dig. +For yon friar is friendly to Gerard, and he is gone to Eli's house, +methinks. For I told him where to find Gerard's enemies and thine, +and wow but he will give them their lesson. If ever a man was +mad with rage, it's yon. He turned black and white, and parted +like a stone from a sling. Girl, there was thunder in his eye and +silence on his lips. Made me cold a did."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Jorian, what have you done?" cried Margaret. "Quick! +quick! help me thither, for the power is gone all out of my body. +You know him not as I do. Oh, if you had seen the blow he +gave Ghysbrecht; and heard the frightful crash! Come, save him +from worse mischief. The water is deep enow; but not bloody yet; +come!"</p> + +<p>Her accents were so full of agony that Jorian sprang out of the +grave and came with her, huddling on his jerkin as he went.</p> + +<p>But, as they hurried along, he asked her what on earth she +meant? "I talk of this friar, and you answer me of Gerard."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_600" id="Page_600">[600]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Man, see you not, <i>this</i> is Gerard!"</p> + +<p>"This, Gerard? what mean ye?"</p> + +<p>"I mean, yon friar is my boy's father. I have waited for him +long, Jorian. Well, he is come to me at last. And thank God +for it. Oh, my poor child! Quicker, Jorian, quicker!"</p> + +<p>"Why, thou art mad as he. Stay! By St. Bavon, yon <i>was</i> +Gerard's face; 'twas nought like it; yet somehow,—'twas it. +Come on! come on! let me see the end of this."</p> + +<p>"The end? How many of us will live to see that?"</p> + +<p>They hurried along in breathless silence, till they reached Hoog +Straet.</p> + +<p>Then Jorian tried to reassure her. "You are making your own +trouble," said he; "who says he has gone thither? more likely to +the convent to weep and pray, poor soul. Oh, cursed, cursed villains!"</p> + +<p>"Did you tell him where those villains bide?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, that I did."</p> + +<p>"Then quicker, oh Jorian, quicker. I see the house. Thank +God and all the saints, I shall be in time to calm him. I know +what I'll say to him; Heaven forgive me! Poor Catherine; 'tis +of her I think: she has been a mother to me."</p> + +<p>The shop was a corner house, with two doors: one in the main +street, for customers, and a house-door round the corner.</p> + +<p>Margaret and Jorian were now within twenty yards of the shop, +when they heard a roar inside, like as of some wild animal, and +the friar burst out, white and raging, and went tearing down the +street.</p> + +<p>Margaret screamed, and sank fainting on Jorian's arm.</p> + +<p>Jorian shouted after him, "Stay, Madman, know thy friends."</p> + +<p>But he was deaf, and went headlong, shaking his clenched fists +high, high, in the air.</p> + +<p>"Help me in, good Jorian," moaned Margaret, turning suddenly +calm. "Let me know the worst; and die."</p> + +<p>He supported her trembling limbs into the house.</p> + +<p>It seemed unnaturally still; not a sound.</p> + +<p>Jorian's own heart beat fast.</p> + +<p>A door was before him, unlatched. He pushed it softly with his +left hand, and Margaret and he stood on the threshold.</p> + +<p>What they saw there you shall soon know.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_601" id="Page_601">[601]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XC</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT was supper-time. Eli's family were collected round the board; +Margaret only was missing. To Catherine's surprise Eli said +he would wait a bit for her.</div> + +<p>"Why, I told her you would not wait for the duke."</p> + +<p>"She is not the duke: she is a poor, good lass, that hath waited +not minutes, but years, for a graceless son of mine. You can put +the meat on the board all the same; then we can fall to, without +further loss o' time, when she does come."</p> + +<p>The smoking dishes smelt so savoury that Eli gave way, "She +will come if we begin," said he; "they always do. Come, sit ye +down, Mistress Joan; y'are not here for a slave, I trow, but a +guest. There, I hear a quick step—off covers, and fall to."</p> + +<p>The covers were withdrawn, and the knives brandished. Then +burst into the room, not the expected Margaret, but a Dominican +friar, livid with rage.</p> + +<p>He was at the table in a moment, in front of Cornelis and +Sybrandt, threw his tall body over the narrow table, and, with two +hands hovering above their shrinking heads, like eagles over a +quarry, he cursed them by name, soul and body, in this world and +the next. It was an age eloquent in curses: and this curse was +so full, so minute, so blighting, blasting, withering, and tremendous, +that I am afraid to put all the words on paper. "Cursed be +the lips," he shrieked, "which spoke the lie that Margaret was dead; +may they rot before the grave, and kiss the white-hot iron in hell +thereafter; doubly cursed be the hands that changed those letters, +and be they struck off by the hangman's knife, and handle hell-fire +for ever; thrice accursed be the cruel hearts that did conceive that +damned lie, to part true love for ever; may they sicken and wither +on earth joyless, loveless, hopeless; and wither to dust before their +time; and burn in eternal fire." He cursed the meat at their +mouths, and every atom of their bodies, from their hair to the +soles of their feet. Then turning from the cowering, shuddering +pair, who had almost hid themselves beneath the table, he tore a +letter out of his bosom, and flung it down before his father.</p> + +<p>"Read that, thou hard old man, that didst imprison thy son, read,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_602" id="Page_602">[602]</a></span> +and see what monsters thou hast brought into the world. The +memory of my wrongs, and hers, dwell with you all for ever! I +will meet you again at the judgment day; on earth ye will never see +me more."</p> + +<p>And in a moment, as he had come, so he was gone, leaving them +stiff, and cold, and white as statues, round the smoking board.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>And this was the sight that greeted Margaret's eyes and Jorian's—pale +figures of men and women petrified around the untasted food, +as Eastern poets feigned.</p> + +<p>Margaret glanced her eye round, and gasped out, "Oh, joy! all +here; no blood hath been shed. Oh, you cruel, cruel men! I +thank God he hath not slain you."</p> + +<p>At sight of her Catherine gave an eloquent scream; then turned +her head away. But Eli, who had just cast his eye over the false +letter, and begun to understand it all, seeing the other victim come +in at that very moment with <i>her</i> wrongs reflected in her sweet, +pale face, started to his feet in a transport of rage, and shouted, +"Stand clear, and let me get at the traitors. I'll hang for them." +And in a moment he whipped out his short sword, and fell upon +them.</p> + +<p>"Fly!" screamed Margaret. "Fly!"</p> + +<p>They slipped howling under the table, and crawled out the other +side.</p> + +<p>But, ere they could get to the door, the furious old man ran +round and intercepted them. Catherine only screamed and wrung +her hands; your notables are generally useless at such a time; and +blood would certainly have flowed, but Margaret and Jorian seized +the fiery old man's arms, and held them with all their might, whilst +the pair got clear of the house; then they let him go; and he went +vainly raging after them out into the street.</p> + +<p>They were a furlong off, running like hares.</p> + +<p>He hacked down the board on which their names were written, +and brought it in doors, and flung it into the chimney-place.</p> + +<p>Catherine was sitting rocking herself with her apron over her +head. Joan had run to her husband. Margaret had her arms +round Catherine's neck; and, pale and panting, was yet making +efforts to comfort her.</p> + +<p>But it was not to be done. "O my poor children!" she cried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_603" id="Page_603">[603]</a></span> +"O miserable mother! 'Tis a mercy Kate was ill upstairs. There, +I have lived to thank God for that!" she cried, with a fresh burst of +sobs. "It would have killed her. He had better have stayed in +Italy, as come home to curse his own flesh and blood, and set us +all by the ears."</p> + +<p>"Oh, hold your chat, woman," cried Eli, angrily; "you are still +on the side of the ill-doer. You are cheap served; your weakness +made the rogues what they are; I was for correcting them in their +youth: for sore ills, sharp remedies; but you still sided with their +faults, and undermined me, and baffled wise severity. And you, +Margaret, leave comforting her that ought rather to comfort you; +for what is her hurt to yours? But she never had a grain of +justice under her skin; and never will. So come thou to me; that +am thy father from this hour."</p> + +<p>This was a command; so she kissed Catherine, and went tottering +to him, and he put her on a chair beside him, and she laid her +feeble head on his honest breast: but not a tear: it was too deep +for that.</p> + +<p>"Poor lamb," said he. After awhile—"Come, good folks," said +true Eli, in a broken voice, to Jorian and Joan, "we are in a little +trouble, as you see; but that is no reason you should starve. For +our Lady's sake, fall to; and add not to my grief the reputation of +a churl. What the dickens!" added he, with a sudden ghastly +attempt at stout-heartedness, "the more knaves I have the luck to +get shut of, the more my need of true men and women, to help me +clear the dish, and cheer mine eye with honest faces about me where +else were gaps. Fall to, I do entreat ye."</p> + +<p>Catherine, sobbing, backed his request. Poor, simple, antique, +hospitable souls! Jorian, whose appetite, especially since his illness, +was very keen, was for acting on this hospitable invitation; +but Joan whispered a word in his ear, and he instantly drew back. +"Nay, I'll touch no meat that holy Church hath cursed."</p> + +<p>"In sooth, I forgot," said Eli, apologetically. "My son, who +was reared at my table, hath cursed my victuals. That seems +strange. Well, what God wills, man must bow to."</p> + +<p>The supper was flung out into the yard.</p> + +<p>Jorian took his wife home, and heavy sadness reigned in Eli's +house that night.</p> + +<p>Meantime, where was Clement?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_604" id="Page_604">[604]</a></span></p> + +<p>Lying at full length upon the floor of the convent church, with +his lips upon the lowest step of the altar, in an indescribable state +of terror, misery, penitence, and self-abasement: through all which +struggled gleams of joy that Margaret was alive.</p> + +<p>Night fell and found him lying there weeping, and praying: and +morning would have found him there too; but he suddenly remembered +that, absorbed in his own wrongs and Margaret's, he +had committed another sin besides intemperate rage. He had neglected +a dying man.</p> + +<p>He rose instantly, groaning at his accumulated wickedness, and +set out to repair the omission. The weather had changed; it was +raining hard, and, when he got clear of the town, he heard the +wolves baying; they were on foot. But Clement was himself again, +or nearly; he thought little of danger or discomfort, having a +shameful omission of religious duty to repair: he went stoutly forward +through rain and darkness.</p> + +<p>And, as he went, he often beat his breast, and cried, "Mea +Culpa! Mea Culpa!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XCI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>WHAT that sensitive mind, and tender conscience, and loving +heart, and religious soul, went through even in a few +hours, under a situation so sudden and tremendous, is +perhaps beyond the power of words to paint.</div> + +<p>Fancy yourself the man; then put yourself in his place!</p> + +<p>Were I to write a volume on it, we should have to come to that +at last.</p> + +<p>I shall relate his next two overt acts. They indicate his state +of mind after the first fierce tempest of the soul had subsided.</p> + +<p>After spending the night with the dying hermit in giving and +receiving holy consolations, he set out not for Rotterdam, but for +Tergou. He went there to confront his fatal enemy the burgomaster, +and, by means of that parchment, whose history by-the-by +was itself a romance, to make him disgorge; and give Margaret +her own.</p> + +<p>Heated and dusty, he stopped at the fountain, and there began +to eat his black bread and drink of the water. But in the middle of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_605" id="Page_605">[605]</a></span> +his frugal meal a female servant came running, and begged him to +come and shrive her dying master. He returned the bread to his +wallet, and followed her without a word.</p> + +<p>She took him—to the Stadthouse.</p> + +<p>He drew back with a little shudder when he saw her go in.</p> + +<p>But he almost instantly recovered himself, and followed her into +the house, and up the stairs. And there in bed, propped up by +pillows, lay his deadly enemy, looking already like a corpse.</p> + +<p>Clement eyed him a moment from the door, and thought of all—the +tower, the wood, the letter. Then he said in a low voice, +"Pax vobiscum!" He trembled a little while he said it.</p> + +<p>The sick man welcomed him as eagerly as his weak state permitted. +"Thank Heaven, thou art come in time to absolve me from +my sins, father, and pray for my soul, thou and thy brethren."</p> + +<p>"My son," said Clement, "before absolution cometh confession. +In which act there must be no reservation, as thou valuest thy soul's +weal. Bethink thee, therefore, wherein thou hast most offended +God and the Church, while I offer up a prayer for wisdom to direct +thee."</p> + +<p>Clement then kneeled and prayed; and, when he rose from his +knees, he said to Ghysbrecht, with apparent calmness, "My son, +confess thy sins."</p> + +<p>"Ah, father," said the sick man, "they are many and great."</p> + +<p>"Great then be thy penitence, my son; so shalt thou find God's +mercy great."</p> + +<p>Ghysbrecht put his hands together, and began to confess with +every appearance of contrition.</p> + +<p>He owned he had eaten meat in mid-Lent. He had often absented +himself from mass on the Lord's day, and saints' day: and +had trifled with other religious observances, which he enumerated +with scrupulous fidelity.</p> + +<p>When he had done, the friar said, quietly, "'Tis well, my son. +These be faults. Now to thy crimes. Thou hadst done better to +begin with them."</p> + +<p>"Why, father, what crimes lie to my account if these be none?"</p> + +<p>"Am I confessing to thee, or thou to me?" said Clement, somewhat +severely.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, father! Why, surely, I to you. But I know not +what you call crimes."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_606" id="Page_606">[606]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The seven deadly sins, art thou clear of them?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven forfend I should be guilty of them. I know them not +by name."</p> + +<p>"Many do them all that cannot name them. Begin with that one +which leads to lying, theft, and murder."</p> + +<p>"I am quit of that one any way. How call you it?"</p> + +<p>"AVARICE, my son."</p> + +<p>"Avarice? Oh, as to that, I have been a saving man all my day; +but I have kept a good table, and not altogether forgotten the poor. +But, alas, I am a great sinner. Mayhap the next will catch me. +What is the next?"</p> + +<p>"We have not yet done with this one. Bethink thee, the Church +is not to be trifled with."</p> + +<p>"Alas! am I in a condition to trifle with her now? Avarice? +Avarice?"</p> + +<p>He looked puzzled and innocent.</p> + +<p>"Hast thou ever robbed the fatherless?" inquired the friar.</p> + +<p>"Me? robbed the fatherless?" gasped Ghysbrecht; "not that I +mind."</p> + +<p>"Once more, my son, I am forced to tell thee thou art trifling with +the Church. Miserable man! another evasion, and I leave thee, +and fiends will straightway gather round thy bed, and tear thee +down to the bottomless pit."</p> + +<p>"Oh, leave me not! leave me not!" shrieked the terrified old man. +"The Church knows all. I <i>must</i> have robbed the fatherless. I will +confess. Who shall I begin with? My memory for names is +shaken."</p> + +<p>The defence was skilful, but in this case failed.</p> + +<p>"Hast thou forgotten Floris Brandt?" said Clement stonily.</p> + +<p>The sick man reared himself in bed in a pitiable state of terror.</p> + +<p>"How knew you that?" said he.</p> + +<p>"The Church knows many things," said Clement, coldly, "and by +many ways that are dark to thee. Miserable impenitent, you called +her to your side hoping to deceive her. You said 'I will not confess +to the curé, but to some friar who knows not my misdeeds. So will +I cheat the Church on my death-bed, and die as I have lived.' But +God, kinder to thee than thou art to thyself, sent to thee one whom +thou couldst not deceive. He has tried thee; he was patient with +thee, and warned thee not to trifle with holy Church; but all is in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_607" id="Page_607">[607]</a></span> +vain; thou canst not confess; for thou art impenitent as a stone. +Die, then, as thou hast lived. Methinks I see the fiends crowding +round the bed for their prey. They wait but for me to go. And I +go."</p> + +<p>He turned his back; but Ghysbrecht, in extremity of terror, +caught him by the frock. "Oh, holy man, mercy! stay. I will confess +all, all. I robbed my friend Floris. Alas, would it had ended +there; for he lost little by me; but I kept the land from Peter his +son, and from Margaret, Peter's daughter. Yet I was always going +to give it back; but I couldn't, I couldn't."</p> + +<p>"Avarice, my son, avarice. Happy for thee 'tis not too late."</p> + +<p>"No. I will leave it her by will. She will not have long to +wait for it now: not above a month or two at farthest."</p> + +<p>"For which month's possession thou wouldst damn thy soul for +ever. Thou fool!"</p> + +<p>The sick man groaned, and prayed the friar to be reasonable. +The friar firmly, but gently and persuasively, persisted, and with +infinite patience detached the dying man's gripe from another's +property. There were times when his patience was tried, and he +was on the point of thrusting his hand into his bosom and producing +the deed, which he had brought for that purpose; but after yesterday's +outbreak he was on his guard against choler; and, to conclude, +he conquered his impatience; he conquered a personal repugnance +to the man, so strong as to make his own flesh creep all the time he +was struggling with this miser for his soul: and at last, without a +word about the deed, he won him to make full and prompt restitution.</p> + +<p>How the restitution was made will be briefly related elsewhere: +also certain curious effects produced upon Ghysbrecht by it; and +when and on what terms Ghysbrecht and Clement parted.</p> + +<p>I promise to relate two acts of the latter, indicative of his mind.</p> + +<p>This is one. The other is told in two words.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was quite sure Margaret had her own, and was a +rich woman—</p> + +<p>HE DISAPPEARED.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_608" id="Page_608">[608]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XCII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IT was the day after that terrible scene: the little house in the +Hoog Straet was like a grave, and none more listless and dejected +than Catherine, so busy and sprightly by nature. After +dinner, her eyes red with weeping, she went to the convent to try +and soften Gerard, and lay the first stone at least of a reconciliation. +It was some time before she could make the porter understand whom +she was seeking. Eventually she learned he had left late last night +and was not expected back. She went sighing with the news to Margaret. +She found her sitting idle, like one with whom life had lost +its savour; she had her boy clasped so tight in her arms, as if he +was all she had left, and she feared some one would take him too. +Catherine begged her to come to the Hoog Straet.</div> + +<p>"What for?" sighed Margaret. "You cannot but say to yourselves, +'she is the cause of all.'"</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," said Catherine, "we are not so ill-hearted, and Eli +is so fond on you; you will, may be, soften him."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you think I can do any good, I'll come," said Margaret, +with a weary sigh.</p> + +<p>They found Eli and a carpenter putting up another name in place +of Cornelis's and Sybrandt's and what should that name be but Margaret +Brandt's.</p> + +<p>With all her affection for Margaret this went through poor Catherine +like a knife. "The bane of one is another's meat," said she.</p> + +<p>"Can he make me spend the money unjustly?" replied Margaret, +coldly.</p> + +<p>"You are a good soul," said Catherine. "Ay, so best, sith he is +the strongest."</p> + +<p>The next day Giles dropped in, and Catherine told the story all in +favour of the black sheep, and invited his pity for them, anathematized +by their brother, and turned on the wide world by their father. +But Giles's prejudices ran the other way; he heard her out, and told +her bluntly the knaves had got off cheap; they deserved to be hanged +at Margaret's door into the bargain, and, dismissing them with contempt, +crowed with delight at the return of his favourite. "I'll show +him," said he, "what 'tis to have a brother at court with a heart to +serve a friend, and a head to point the way."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_609" id="Page_609">[609]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Bless thee, Giles," murmured Margaret, softly.</p> + +<p>"Thou wast ever his stanch friend, dear Giles," said little Kate; +"but alack I know not what thou canst do for him now."</p> + +<p>Giles had left them, and all was sad and silent again, when a well-dressed +man opened the door softly and asked was Margaret Brandt +here.</p> + +<p>"D'ye hear, lass? You are wanted," said Catherine, briskly. In +her the Gossip was indestructible.</p> + +<p>"Well, mother," said Margaret, listlessly, "and here I am."</p> + +<p>A shuffling of feet was heard at the door, and a colourless, feeble, +old man was assisted into the room. It was Ghysbrecht Van Swieten. +At sight of him Catherine shrieked and threw her apron over her +head and Margaret shuddered violently and turned her head swiftly +away not to see him.</p> + +<p>A feeble voice issued from the strange visitor's lips, "Good people, +a dying man hath come to ask your forgiveness."</p> + +<p>"Come to look on your work, you mean," said Catherine, taking +down her apron and bursting out sobbing. "There, there, she is +fainting; look to her, Eli, quick."</p> + +<p>"Nay," said Margaret, in a feeble voice, "the sight of him gave me +a turn, that is all. Prithee let him say his say; and go; for he is the +murtherer of me and mine."</p> + +<p>"Alas," said Ghysbrecht, "I am too feeble to say it standing, and +no one biddeth me sit down."</p> + +<p>Eli, who had followed him into the house, interfered here, and +said half sullenly, half apologetically, "Well, burgomaster, 'tis not +our wont to leave a visitor standing whiles we sit. But, man, man, +you have wrought us too much ill." And the honest fellow's voice +began to shake with anger he fought hard to contain, because it was +his own house.</p> + +<p>Then Ghysbrecht found an advocate in one who seldom spoke +in vain in that family.</p> + +<p>It was little Kate. "Father, mother," said she, "my duty to +you, but this is not well. Death squares all accounts. And see +you not death in his face? I shall not live long, good friends: and +his time is shorter than mine."</p> + +<p>Eli made haste and set a chair for their dying enemy with his +own hands. Ghysbrecht's attendants put him into it. "Go fetch +the boxes," said he. They brought in two boxes, and then retired,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_610" id="Page_610">[610]</a></span> +leaving their master alone in the family he had so cruelly injured.</p> + +<p>Every eye was now bent on him, except Margaret's. He undid +the boxes, with unsteady fingers, and brought out of one the title-deeds +of a property at Tergou. "This land and these houses belonged +to Floris Brandt, and do belong to thee of right, his granddaughter. +These I did usurp for a debt long since defrayed with +interest. These I now restore their rightful owner with penitent +tears. In this other box are three hundred and forty golden angels, +being the rent and fines I have received from that land more than +Floris Brandt's debt to me. I have kept compt, still meaning to +be just one day; but Avarice withheld me. Pray, good people, +against temptation! I was not born dishonest: yet you see."</p> + +<p>"Well, to be sure," cried Catherine. "And you the burgomaster! +Hast whipt good store of thieves in thy day. However," said she, +on second thoughts, "'tis better late than never. What, Margaret? +art deaf? The good man hath brought thee back thine own. Art +a rich woman. Alack, what a mountain o' gold!"</p> + +<p>"Bid him keep land and gold, and give me back my Gerard, +that he stole from me with his treason;" said Margaret, with her +head still averted.</p> + +<p>"Alas!" said Ghysbrecht; "would I could. What I can I have +done. Is it nought? It cost me a sore struggle; and I rose from +my last bed to do it myself, lest some mischance should come between +her and her rights."</p> + +<p>"Old man," said Margaret, "since thou, whose idol is pelf, hast +done this, God and his saints will, as I hope, forgive thee. As for +me, I am neither saint nor angel, but only a poor woman, whose +heart thou hast broken. Speak to him, Kate; for I am like the +dead."</p> + +<p>Kate meditated a little while; and then her soft silvery voice +fell like a soothing melody upon the air. "My poor sister hath +a sorrow that riches cannot heal. Give her time, Ghysbrecht; 'tis +not in nature she should forgive thee all. Her boy is fatherless; +and she is neither maid, wife, nor widow; and the blow fell but +two days syne, that laid her heart a bleeding."</p> + +<p>A single heavy sob from Margaret was the comment to these words.</p> + +<p>"Therefore, give her time! And, ere thou diest, she will forgive +thee all, ay, even to pleasure me, that haply shall not be long behind +thee, Ghysbrecht. Meantime, we, whose wounds be sore, but<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_611" id="Page_611">[611]</a></span> +not so deep as hers, do pardon thee, a penitent and a dying man; +and I, for one, will pray for thee from this hour; go in peace!"</p> + +<p>Their little oracle had spoken; it was enough. Eli even invited +him to break a manchet and drink a stoup of wine to give +him heart for his journey.</p> + +<p>But Ghysbrecht declined, and said what he had done was a cordial +to him. "Man seeth but a little way before him, neighbour. +This land I clung so to it was a bed of nettles to me all the time. +'Tis gone; and I feel happier and livelier like for the loss on't."</p> + +<p>He called his men and they lifted him into the litter.</p> + +<p>When he was gone Catherine gloated over the money. She had +never seen so much together, and was almost angry with Margaret, +for "sitting out there like an image." And she dilated on +the advantages of money.</p> + +<p>And she teased Margaret till at last she prevailed on her to come +and look at it.</p> + +<p>"Better let her be, mother," said Kate. "How can she relish +gold, with a heart in her bosom liker lead?" But Catherine persisted.</p> + +<p>The result was, Margaret looked down at all her wealth, with +wondering eyes. Then suddenly wrung her hands and cried with +piercing anguish, "TOO LATE! TOO LATE!"</p> + +<p>And shook off her leaden despondency, only to go into strong +hysterics over the wealth that came too late to be shared with him +she loved.</p> + +<p>A little of this gold, a portion of this land, a year or two ago, +when it was as much her own as now; and Gerard would have never +left her side for Italy or any other place.</p> + +<p>Too late! Too late!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XCIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>NOT many days after this came the news that Margaret +Van Eyck was dead and buried. By a will she had made +a year before, she left all her property, after her funeral +expenses and certain presents to Reicht Heynes, to her dear +daughter Margaret Brandt, requesting her to keep Reicht as long +as unmarried. By this will Margaret inherited a furnished house,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_612" id="Page_612">[612]</a></span> +and pictures and sketches that in the present day would be a +fortune: among the pictures was one she valued more than a gallery +of others. It represented "a Betrothal." The solemnity of the +ceremony was marked in the grave face of the man, and the demure +complacency of the woman. She was painted almost entirely by +Margaret Van Eyck, but the rest of the picture by Jan. The accessories +were exquisitely finished, and remain a marvel of skill to +this day. Margaret Brandt sent word to Reicht to stay in the +house till such time as she could find the heart to put foot in it, +and miss the face and voice that used to meet her there: and to take +special care of the picture "in the little cupboard": meaning the +diptych.</div> + +<p>The next thing was, Luke Peterson came home, and heard that +Gerard was a monk.</p> + +<p>He was like to go mad with joy. He came to Margaret and +said,</p> + +<p>"Never heed, mistress. If he cannot marry you I can."</p> + +<p>"You?" said Margaret. "Why, I have seen him."</p> + +<p>"But he is a friar."</p> + +<p>"He was my husband, and my boy's father long ere he was a +friar. And I have seen him. I've <i>seen</i> him."</p> + +<p>Luke was thoroughly puzzled. "I'll tell you what," said he; +"I have got a cousin a lawyer. I'll go and ask him whether you +are married or single."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I shall ask my own heart, not a lawyer. So that is your +regard for me; to go making me the town talk, oh, fie!"</p> + +<p>"That is done already without a word from me."</p> + +<p>"But not by such as seek my respect. And if you do it, never +come nigh me again."</p> + +<p>"Ay," said Luke, with a sigh, "you are like a dove to all the +rest; but you are a hard-hearted tyrant to me."</p> + +<p>"'Tis your own fault, dear Luke, for wooing me. That is what +lets me from being as kind to you as I desire. Luke, my bonny +lad, listen to me. I am rich now; I can make my friends happy, +though not myself. Look round the street, look round the parish. +There is many a quean in it, fairer than I twice told, and not +spoiled with weeping. Look high; and take your choice. Speak +you to the lass herself, and I'll speak to the mother; they shall +not say thee nay; take my word for't."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_613" id="Page_613">[613]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I see what ye mean," said Luke, turning very red. "But if I +can't have your liking, I will none o' your money. I was your +servant when you were poor as I; and poorer. No: if you would +liever be a friar's leman than an honest man's wife, you are not +the woman I took you for; so part we withouten malice: seek you +your comfort on yon road, where never a she did find it yet, and, +for me, I'll live and die a bachelor. Good even, mistress."</p> + +<p>"Farewell, dear Luke: and God forgive you for saying <i>that</i> to +me."</p> + +<p>For some days Margaret dreaded, almost as much as she desired, +the coming interview with Gerard. She said to herself, "I wonder +not he keeps away a while; for so should I." However he would +hear he was a father: and the desire to see their boy would overcome +everything; "And," said the poor girl to herself, "if so +be that meeting does not kill me, I feel I shall be better after it +than I am now."</p> + +<p>But when day after day went by, and he was not heard of, a +freezing suspicion began to crawl and creep towards her mind. +What if his absence was intentional? What if he had gone to +some cold-blooded monks his fellows, and they had told him never +to see her more? The convent had ere this shown itself as merciless +to true lovers as the grave itself.</p> + +<p>At this thought the very life seemed to die out of her.</p> + +<p>And now for the first time deep indignation mingled at times +with her grief and apprehension. "Can he have ever loved me? +To run from me and his boy without a word! Why this poor +Luke thinks more of me than he does."</p> + +<p>While her mind was in this state, Giles came roaring, "I've hit +the clout; OUR GERARD IS VICAR OF GOUDA."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>A very brief sketch of the dwarf's court life will suffice to prepare +the reader for his own account of this feat. Some months before +he went to court his intelligence had budded. He himself dated +the change from a certain 8th of June, when, swinging by one hand +along with the week's washing on a tight rope in the drying ground, +something went crack inside his head; and lo! intellectual powers +unchained. At court his shrewdness and bluntness of speech, +coupled with his gigantic voice and his small stature, made him a +Power: without the last item I fear they would have conducted him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_614" id="Page_614">[614]</a></span> +to that unpopular gymnasium, the gallows. The young Duchess +of Burgundy, and Marie the heiress apparent, both petted him, as +great ladies have petted dwarfs in all ages; and the court poet +melted butter by the six-foot rule, and poured enough of it down +his back to stew Goliah in. He even amplified, versified, and enfeebled, +certain rough and ready sentences dictated by Giles.</p> + +<p>The centipedal prolixity that resulted went to Eli by letter, thus +entitled,</p> + +<div class='poem'> +"The high and puissant Princess Marie<br /> +of Bourgogne her lytel jantilman hys<br /> +complaynt of y^e Coort, and<br /> +praise of a rusticall lyfe, versificated, and empapyred<br /> +by me the lytel jantilman's right lovynge<br /> +and obsequious servitor, etc.<br /> +</div> + +<p>But the dwarf reached his climax by a happy mixture of mind +and muscle; thus:</p> + +<p>The day before a grand court joust he challenged the duke's +giant to a trial of strength. This challenge made the gravest grin, +and aroused expectation.</p> + +<p>Giles had a lofty pole planted ready, and at the appointed hour +went up it like a squirrel, and by strength of arm made a right +angle with his body, and so remained: then slid down so quickly, +that the high and puissant princess squeaked, and hid her face +in her hands, not to see the demise of her pocket-Hercules.</p> + +<p>The giant effected only about ten feet, then looked ruefully up +and ruefully down, and descended, bathed in perspiration, to argue +the matter.</p> + +<p>"It was not the dwarf's greater strength, but his smaller body."</p> + +<p>The spectators received this excuse with loud derision. There +was the fact. The dwarf was great at mounting a pole: the giant +only great at excuses. In short Giles had gauged their intellects: +with his own body no doubt.</p> + +<p>"Come," said he, "an' ye go to that, I'll wrestle ye, my lad, if +so be you will let me blindfold your eyne."</p> + +<p>The giant, smarting under defeat, and thinking he could surely +recover it by this means, readily consented.</p> + +<p>"Madam," said Giles, "see you yon blind Samson? At a signal +from me he shall make me a low obeisance, and unbonnet to me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_615" id="Page_615">[615]</a></span></p> + +<p>"How may that be, being blinded?" inquired a maid of honour.</p> + +<p>"That is my affair."</p> + +<p>"I wager on Giles for one," said the princess.</p> + +<p>When several wagers were laid pro and con, Giles hit the giant +in the bread-basket. He went double (the obeisance), and his +bonnet fell off.</p> + +<p>The company yelled with delight at this delicate stroke of wit, and +Giles took to his heels. The giant followed as soon as he could +recover his breath and tear off his bandage. But it was too late; +Giles had prepared a little door in the wall, through which he could +pass, but not a giant, and had coloured it so artfully it looked +like wall; this door he tore open, and went headlong through, leaving +no vestige but this posy, written very large upon the reverse +of his trick door:</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<i>Long limbs, big body, wanting wit,<br /> +By wee and wise is bet and bit.</i><br /> +</div> + +<p>After this Giles became a Force.</p> + +<p>He shall now speak for himself.</p> + +<p>Finding Margaret unable to believe the good news, and sceptical +as to the affairs of holy Church being administered by dwarfs, he +narrated as follows:</p> + +<p>"When the princess sent for me to her bedroom as of custom, to +keep her out of languor, I came not mirthful nor full of country +dicts, as is my wont, but dull as lead.</p> + +<p>"'Why what aileth thee?' quo' she. 'Art sick?' 'At heart,' quo' +I. 'Alas, he is in love,' quo' she. Whereat five brazen hussies, +which they call them maids of honour, did giggle loud. 'Not so +mad as that,' said I, 'seeing what I see at court of women folk.'</p> + +<p>"'There, ladies,' quo' the princess, 'best let him a be. 'Tis a +liberal mannikin, and still giveth more than he taketh of saucy +words.'</p> + +<p>"'In all sadness,' quo' she, 'what is the matter?'</p> + +<p>"I told her I was meditating, and what perplexed me was, that +other folk could now and then keep their word, but princes never.</p> + +<p>"'Heyday,' says she, 'thy shafts fly high this morn.' I told her, +'Ay, for they hit the Truth.'</p> + +<p>"She said I was as keen as keen; but it became not me to put riddles<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_616" id="Page_616">[616]</a></span> +to her, nor her to answer them. 'Stand aloof a bit, mesdames,' +said she, 'and thou speak without fear'; for she saw I was in sad +earnest.</p> + +<p>"I began to quake a bit; for mind ye, she can doff freedom and +don dignity quicker than she can slip out of her dressing-gown into +kirtle of state. But I made my voice so soft as honey; (wherefore +smilest?) and I said, 'Madam, one evening, a matter of five years +agone, as ye sat with your mother, the Countess of Charolois, who is +now in heaven, worse luck, you wi' your lute, and she wi' her tapestry, +or the like; do ye mind there came in to ye a fair youth—with +a letter from a painter body, one Margaret Van Eyck?'</p> + +<p>"She said she thought she did. 'Was it not a tall youth, exceedingly +comely?'</p> + +<p>"'Ay, madam,' said I; 'he was my brother.'</p> + +<p>"'Your brother?' said she, and did eye me like all over. (What +dost smile at?)</p> + +<p>"So I told her all that passed between her and Gerard, and how +she was for giving him a bishopric; but the good countess said, +'Gently, Marie! He is too young;' and with that they did both +promise him a living; 'Yet,' said I, 'he hath been a priest a long +while, and no living. Hence my bile.'</p> + +<p>"'Alas!' said she, ''tis not by my good will. For all this thou +hast said is sooth; and more, I do remember, my dear mother +said to me, "See thou to it if I be not here."' So then she cried +out 'Ay, dear mother, no word of thine shall ever fall to the +ground.'</p> + +<p>"I seeing her so ripe, said quickly, 'Madam, the Vicar of Gouda +died last week.' (For when ye seek favours of the great, behoves +ye know the very thing ye aim at.)</p> + +<p>"'Then thy brother is vicar of Gouda,' quo' she, 'so sure as I +am heiress of Burgundy and the Netherlands. Nay, thank me not, +good Giles,' quo' she; 'but my good mother. And I do thank thee +for giving of me somewhat to do for her memory.' And doesn't she +fall a weeping for her mother? and doesn't that set me off a snivelling +for my good brother that I love so dear, and to think that a poor +little elf like me could yet speak in the ear of princes, and make +my beautiful brother vicar of Gouda; eh, lass, it is a bonny place, +and a bonny manse, and hawthorn in every bush at spring-tide, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_617" id="Page_617">[617]</a></span> +dog-roses and eglantine in every summer hedge. I know what the +poor fool affects, leave that to me."</p> + +<p>The dwarf began his narrative strutting to and fro before Margaret; +but he ended it in her arms. For she could not contain +herself, but caught him, and embraced him warmly. "Oh, Giles," +she said, blushing, and kissing him, "I cannot keep my hands off +thee, thy body it is so little, and thy heart so great. Thou art his +true friend. Bless thee! bless thee! bless thee! Now we shall +see him again. We have not set eyes on him since that terrible +day."</p> + +<p>"Gramercy, but that is strange," said Giles. "Maybe he is +ashamed of having cursed those two vagabones, being our own flesh +and blood, worse luck."</p> + +<p>"Think you that is why he hides?" said Margaret, eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Ay, if he is hiding at all. However, I'll cry him by bellman."</p> + +<p>"Nay, that might much offend him."</p> + +<p>"What care I? Is Gouda to go vicarless, and the manse in +nettles?"</p> + +<p>And, to Margaret's secret satisfaction, Giles had the new vicar +cried in Rotterdam, and the neighbouring towns. He easily persuaded +Margaret that, in a day or two, Gerard would be sure to +hear, and come to his benefice. She went to look at his manse, +and thought how comfortable it might be made for him, and how +dearly she should love to do it.</p> + +<p>But the days rolled on, and Gerard came neither to Rotterdam +nor Gouda. Giles was mortified, Margaret indignant, and very +wretched. She said to herself, "Thinking me dead, he comes home, +and now, because I am alive, he goes back to Italy; for that is +where he has gone."</p> + +<p>Joan advised her to consult the hermit of Gouda.</p> + +<p>"Why sure he is dead by this time."</p> + +<p>"Yon one, belike. But the cave is never long void; Gouda ne'er +wants a hermit."</p> + +<p>But Margaret declined to go again to Gouda on such an errand. +"What can he know, shut up in a cave? less than I, belike. Gerard +hath gone back t' Italy. He hates me for not being dead."</p> + +<p>Presently a Tergovian came in with a word from Catherine that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_618" id="Page_618">[618]</a></span> +Ghysbrecht Van Swieten had seen Gerard later than any one else. +On this Margaret determined to go and see the house and goods +that had been left her, and take Reicht Heynes home to Rotterdam. +And, as may be supposed, her steps took her first to Ghysbrecht's +house. She found him in his garden, seated in a chair with wheels. +He greeted her with a feeble voice, but cordially; and when she +asked him whether it was true he had seen Gerard since the fifth +of August, he replied, "Gerard, no more, but Friar Clement. Ay, +I saw him; and blessed be the day he entered my house."</p> + +<p>He then related in his own words his interview with Clement. +He told her moreover that the friar had afterwards acknowledged +he came to Tergou with the missing deed in his bosom on purpose to +make him disgorge her land; but that finding him disposed towards +penitence, he had gone to work the other way.</p> + +<p>"Was not this a saint; who came to right thee; but must needs +save his enemy's soul in the doing it?"</p> + +<p>To her question, whether he had recognized him, he said, "I +ne'er suspected such a thing. 'Twas only when he had been three +days with me that he revealed himself. Listen while I speak my +shame and his praise.</p> + +<p>"I said to him 'The land is gone home, and my stomach feels +lighter; but there is another fault that clingeth to me still;' then +told I him of the letter I had writ at request of his brethren, I whose +place it was to check them. Said I, 'Yon letter was writ to part +true lovers, and, the devil aiding, it hath done the foul work. +Land and houses I can give back; but yon mischief is done for +ever.' 'Nay,' quoth he, 'not for ever; but for life. Repent it then +while thou livest.' 'I shall,' said I, 'but how can God forgive it? +I would not,' said I, 'were I He.'</p> + +<p>"'Yet will He certainly forgive it,' quoth he; 'for He is ten times +more forgiving than I am; and I forgive thee.' I stared at him; and +then he said softly, but quavering like, 'Ghysbrecht, look at me closer. +I am Gerard the son of Eli.' And I looked, and looked, and at +last, lo! it was Gerard. Verily I had fallen at his feet with shame +and contrition; but he would not suffer me. 'That became not mine +years and his, for a particular fault. I say not I forgive thee without +a struggle,' said he, 'not being a saint. But these three days, +thou hast spent in penitence, I have worn under thy roof in prayer: +and I do forgive thee.' Those were his very words."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_619" id="Page_619">[619]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret's tears began to flow; for it was in a broken and contrite +voice the old man told her this unexpected trait in her Gerard. +He continued, "And even with that he bade me farewell.</p> + +<p>"'My work here is done now,' said he. I had not the heart to +stay him; for, let him forgive me ever so, the sight of me must be +wormwood to him. He left me in peace, and may a dying man's +blessing wait on him, go where he will. Oh, girl, when I think of +his wrongs, and thine, and how he hath avenged himself by saving +this stained soul of mine, my heart is broken with remorse, and +these old eyes shed tears by night and day."</p> + +<p>"Ghysbrecht," said Margaret, weeping, "since he hath forgiven +thee, I forgive thee too: what is done, is done; and thou hast let me +know this day that which I had walked the world to hear. But oh, +burgomaster, thou art an understanding man, now help a poor +woman, which hath forgiven thee her misery."</p> + +<p>She then told him all that had befallen; "And," said she, "they +will not keep the living for him for ever. He bids fair to lose +that, as well as break all our hearts."</p> + +<p>"Call my servant," cried the burgomaster, with sudden vigour.</p> + +<p>He sent him for a table and writing materials, and dictated letters +to the burgomasters in all the principal towns in Holland, and +one to a Prussian authority, his friend. His clerk, and Margaret, +wrote them, and he signed them. "There," said he, "the matter shall +be despatched throughout Holland by trusty couriers; and as far +as Basle in Switzerland; and fear not, but we will soon have the +vicar of Gouda to his village."</p> + +<p>She went home animated with fresh hopes, and accusing herself +of ingratitude to Gerard. "I value my wealth now," said she.</p> + +<p>She also made a resolution never to blame his conduct, till she +should hear from his own lips his reasons.</p> + +<p>Not long after her return from Tergou, a fresh disaster befell. +Catherine, I must premise, had secret interviews with the black +sheep, the very day after they were expelled; and Cornelis followed +her to Tergou, and lived there on secret contribution; but Sybrandt +chose to remain in Rotterdam. Ere Catherine left, she asked +Margaret to lend her two gold angels; "For," said she, "all mine +are spent." Margaret was delighted to lend them or give them; +but the words were scarce out of her mouth, ere she caught a look +of regret and distress on Kate's face; and she saw directly whither<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_620" id="Page_620">[620]</a></span> +her money was going. She gave Catherine the money, and went +and shut herself up with her boy. Now this money was to last +Sybrandt till his mother could make some good excuse for visiting +Rotterdam again; and then she would bring the idle dog some of her +own industrious scrapings.</p> + +<p>But Sybrandt, having gold in his pocket, thought it inexhaustible; +and, being now under no shadow of restraint, led the life of a complete +sot; until one afternoon, in a drunken frolic, he climbed +on the roof of the stable at the inn he was carousing in, and proceeded +to walk along it, a feat he had performed many times when +sober. But now his unsteady brain made his legs unsteady, and +he rolled down the roof and fell with a loud thwack on to a horizontal +paling, where he hung a moment in a semicircle: then toppled +over and lay silent on the ground, amidst roars of laughter from +his boon companions.</p> + +<p>When they came to pick him up he could not stand; but fell +down giggling at each attempt.</p> + +<p>On this they went staggering and roaring down the street with +him, and carried him at great risk of another fall, to the shop in +the Hoog Straet. For he had babbled his own shame all over the +place.</p> + +<p>As soon as he saw Margaret he hiccupped out, "Here is the doctor +that cures all hurts; a bonny lass." He also bade her observe +he bore her no malice, for he was paying her a visit, sore against +his will. "Wherefore, prithee send away these drunkards; and let +you and me have t'other glass, to drown all unkindness."</p> + +<p>All this time Margaret was pale and red by turns at sight of +her enemy and at his insolence. But one of the men whispered +what had happened, and a streaky something in Sybrandt's face +arrested her attention.</p> + +<p>"And he cannot stand up, say you?"</p> + +<p>"A couldn't just now. Try, comrade! Be a man now!"</p> + +<p>"I am a better man than thou," roared Sybrandt. "I'll stand +up and fight ye all for a crown."</p> + +<p>He started to his feet, and instantly rolled into his attendant's +arms with a piteous groan. He then began to curse his boon companions, +and declare they had stolen away his legs. "He could +feel nothing below the waist."</p> + +<p>"Alas, poor wretch," said Margaret. She turned very gravely to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_621" id="Page_621">[621]</a></span> +the men, and said, "Leave him here. And if you have brought him +to this, go on your knees; for you have spoiled him for life. He +will never walk again: his back is broken."</p> + +<p>The drunken man caught these words, and the foolish look of +intoxication fled, and a glare of anguish took its place. "The +curse," he groaned; "the curse!"</p> + +<p>Margaret and Reicht Heynes carried him carefully, and laid him +on the softest bed.</p> + +<p>"I must do as <i>he</i> would do," whispered Margaret. "He was kind +to Ghysbrecht."</p> + +<p>Her opinion was verified. Sybrandt's spine was fatally injured; +and he lay groaning, and helpless, fed and tended by her he had +so deeply injured.</p> + +<p>The news was sent to Tergou; and Catherine came over.</p> + +<p>It was a terrible blow to her. Moreover she accused herself as +the cause. "Oh, false wife, oh, weak mother," she cried. "I am +rightly punished for my treason to my poor Eli."</p> + +<p>She sat for hours at a time by his bedside rocking herself in +silence; and was never quite herself again; and the first grey hairs +began to come in her poor head from that hour.</p> + +<p>As for Sybrandt, all his cry was now for Gerard. He used to +whine to Margaret like a suffering hound, "Oh, sweet Margaret, +oh, bonny Margaret, for our Lady's sake find Gerard, and bid him +take his curse off me. Thou art gentle, thou art good; thou wilt +entreat for me, and he will refuse thee nought." Catherine shared +his belief that Gerard could cure him, and joined her entreaties +to his. Margaret hardly needed this. The burgomaster and his +agents having failed, she employed her own, and spent money like +water. And among these agents poor Luke enrolled himself. She +met him one day looking very thin, and spoke to him compassionately. +On this he began to blubber, and say he was more miserable than +ever; he would like to be good friends again upon almost any terms.</p> + +<p>"Dear heart," said Margaret, sorrowfully, "why can you not +say to yourself, now I am her little brother, and she is my old, +married sister, worn down with care? Say so, and I will indulge +thee, and pet thee, and make thee happier than a prince."</p> + +<p>"Well, I will," said Luke savagely, "sooner than keep away from +you altogether. But above all give me something to do. Perchance +I may have better luck this time."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_622" id="Page_622">[622]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Get me my marrige lines," said Margaret, turning sad and +gloomy in a moment.</p> + +<p>"That is as much as to say, get me <i>him!</i> for where they are he is."</p> + +<p>"Not so. He may refuse to come nigh me; but certes he will +not deny a poor woman, who loved him once, her lines of betrothal. +How can she go without them into any honest man's house?"</p> + +<p>"I'll get them you if they are in Holland," said Luke.</p> + +<p>"They are as like to be in Rome," replied Margaret.</p> + +<p>"Let us begin with Holland," observed Luke, prudently.</p> + +<p>The slave of love was furnished with money by his soft tyrant, +and wandered hither and thither, coopering, and carpentering, and +looking for Gerard. "I can't be worse if I find the vagabone," +said he, "and I may be a handle better."</p> + +<p>The months rolled on, and Sybrandt improved in spirit, but not +in body, he was Margaret's pensioner for life; and a long-expected +sorrow fell upon poor Catherine, and left her still more bowed +down; and she lost her fine hearty bustling way, and never went +about the house singing now; and her nerves were shaken, and she +lived in dread of some terrible misfortune falling on Cornelis. The +curse was laid on him as well as Sybrandt.</p> + +<p>She prayed Eli, if she had been a faithful partner all these years, +to take Cornelis into his house again; and let her live awhile at +Rotterdam.</p> + +<p>"I have good daughters here," said she; "but Margaret is so tender, +and thoughtful, and the little Gerard, he is my joy; he grows +liker his father every day, and his prattle cheers my heavy heart; +and I do love children."</p> + +<p>And Eli, sturdy but kindly, consented sorrowfully.</p> + +<p>And the people of Gouda petitioned the duke for a vicar, a real +vicar. "Ours cometh never nigh us," said they, "this six months +past: our children they die unchristened, and our folk unburied, +except by some chance comer." Giles's influence baffled this just +complaint once; but a second petition was prepared, and he gave +Margaret little hope that the present position could be maintained +a single day.</p> + +<p>So then Margaret went sorrowfully to the pretty manse to see +it for the last time, ere it should pass forever into a stranger's hands.</p> + +<p>"I think he would have been happy here," she said, and turned +heartsick away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_623" id="Page_623">[623]</a></span></p> + +<p>On their return, Reicht Heynes proposed to her to go and consult +the hermit.</p> + +<p>"What," said Margaret, "Joan has been at you. She is the one +for hermits. I'll go, if 'tis but to show thee they know no more +than we do." And they went to the cave.</p> + +<p>It was an excavation partly natural, partly artificial, in a bank +of rock overgrown by brambles. There was a rough stone door +on hinges, and a little window high up, and two apertures, through +one of which the people announced their gifts to the hermit, and +put questions of all sorts to him; and, when he chose to answer, his +voice came dissonant and monstrous out at another small aperture.</p> + +<p>On the face of the rock this line was cut—</p> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Felix qui in Domino nirus ab orbe fugit.</i><br /> +</div> + +<p>Margaret observed to her companion that this was new since +she was here last.</p> + +<p>"Ay," said Reicht, "like enough," and looked up at it with +awe. Writing even on paper she thought no trifle: but on rock!</p> + +<p>She whispered, "'Tis a far holier hermit than the last; he used +to come in the town now and then; but this one ne'er shows his +face to mortal man."</p> + +<p>"And that is holiness?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, sure."</p> + +<p>"Then what a saint a dormouse must be!"</p> + +<p>"Out, fie, mistress. Would ye even a beast to a man?"</p> + +<p>"Come Reicht," said Margaret, "my poor father taught me overmuch. +So I will e'en sit here; and look at the manse once more. +Go thou forward and question thy solitary; and tell me whether +ye get nought or nonsense out of him; for 'twill be one."</p> + +<p>As Reicht drew near the cave, a number of birds flew out of it. +She gave a little scream, and pointed to the cave to show Margaret +they had come thence. On this Margaret felt sure there was no +human being in the cave, and gave the matter no further attention. +She fell into a deep reverie while looking at the little manse.</p> + +<p>She was startled from it by Reicht's hand upon her shoulder, and +a faint voice, saying, "Let us go home."</p> + +<p>"You got no answer at all, Reicht," said Margaret, calmly.</p> + +<p>"No, Margaret," said Reicht, despondently. And they returned +home.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_624" id="Page_624">[624]</a></span></p> + +<p>Perhaps after all Margaret had nourished some faint secret hope +in her heart, though her reason had rejected it; for she certainly +went home more dejectedly.</p> + +<p>Just as they entered Rotterdam, Reicht said, "Stay! Oh, Margaret, +I am ill at deceit; but 'tis death to utter ill news to thee; +I love thee so dear."</p> + +<p>"Speak out, sweetheart," said Margaret. "I have gone through so +much, I am almost past feeling any fresh trouble."</p> + +<p>"Margaret, the hermit did speak to me."</p> + +<p>"What, a hermit there? among all those birds."</p> + +<p>"Ay; and doth not that show him a holy man?"</p> + +<p>"I' God's name, what said he to thee, Reicht?"</p> + +<p>"Alas! Margaret, I told him thy story, and I prayed him for +our Lady's sake, tell me where thy Gerard is. And I waited long +for an answer, and presently a voice came like a trumpet. 'Pray +for the soul of Gerard, the son of Eli!'"</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, woe is me that I have this to tell thee, sweet Margaret! +bethink thee thou hast thy boy to live for yet."</p> + +<p>"Let me get home," said Margaret, faintly.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Passing down the Brede Kirk Straet they saw Joan at the door.</p> + +<p>Reicht said to her, "Eh, woman, she has been to your hermit, +and heard no good news."</p> + +<p>"Come in," said Joan, eager for a gossip.</p> + +<p>Margaret would not go in. But she sat down disconsolate on +the lowest step but one of the little external staircase that led into +Joan's house; and let the other two gossip their fill at the top of +it.</p> + +<p>"Oh," said Joan, "what yon hermit says is sure to be sooth. +He is that holy, I am told, that the very birds consort with him."</p> + +<p>"What does that prove?" said Margaret, deprecatingly. "I have +seen my Gerard tame the birds in winter till they would eat from +his hand."</p> + +<p>A look of pity at this parallel passed between the other two. +But they were both too fond of her to say what they thought. +Joan proceeded to relate all the marvellous tales she had heard of +this hermit's sanctity. How he never came out but at night, and +prayed among the wolves, and they never molested him: and how he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_625" id="Page_625">[625]</a></span> +bade the people not bring him so much food to pamper his body, +but to bring him candles.</p> + +<p>"The candles are to burn before his saint," whispered Reicht, +solemnly.</p> + +<p>"Ay, lass; and to read his holy books wi'. A neighbour o' mine +saw his hand come out, and the birds sat thereon and pecked crumbs. +She went for to kiss it; but the holy man whippit it away in a trice. +They can't abide a woman to touch 'em, or even look at 'em, saints +can't."</p> + +<p>"What like was his hand, wife? Did you ask her?"</p> + +<p>"What is my tongue for, else? Why, dear heart, all one as +ourn; by the same token a had a thumb and four fingers."</p> + +<p>"Look ye there now."</p> + +<p>"But a deal whiter nor yourn and mine."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay."</p> + +<p>"And main skinny."</p> + +<p>"Alas."</p> + +<p>"What could ye expect? Why a live upon air, and prayer: and +candles."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well," continued Joan, "poor thing, I whiles think 'tis best +for her to know the worst. And now she hath gotten a voice from +heaven, or almost as good: and behoves her pray for his soul. One +thing she is not so poor now as she was; and never fell riches +to a better hand; and she is only come into her own for that matter: +so she can pay the priest to say masses for him, and that is a +great comfort."</p> + +<p>In the midst of their gossip Margaret, in whose ears it was all +buzzing, though she seemed lost in thought, got softly up; and +crept away with her eyes on the ground, and her brows bent.</p> + +<p>"She hath forgotten I am with her," said Reicht Heynes, ruefully.</p> + +<p>She had her gossip out with Joan, and then went home.</p> + +<p>She found Margaret seated cutting out a pelisse of grey cloth, +and a cape to match. Little Gerard was standing at her side, inside +her left arm, eyeing the work, and making it more difficult by +wriggling about, and fingering the arm with which she held the +cloth steady; to all which she submitted with imperturbable patience +and complacency. Fancy a male workman so entangled, impeded, +worried!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_626" id="Page_626">[626]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Ot's that, mammy?"</p> + +<p>"A pelisse, my pet."</p> + +<p>"Ot's a p'lisse?"</p> + +<p>"A great frock. And this is the cape to't."</p> + +<p>"Ot's it for?"</p> + +<p>"To keep his body from the cold; and the cape is for his +shoulders, or to go over his head like the country folk. 'Tis for +a hermit."</p> + +<p>"Ot's a 'ermit?"</p> + +<p>"A holy man that lives in a cave all by himself."</p> + +<p>"In de dark?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, whiles."</p> + +<p>"Oh."</p> + +<p>In the morning Reicht was sent to the hermit with the pelisse, +and a pound of thick candles.</p> + +<p>As she was going out of the door, Margaret said to her, "Said +you whose son Gerard was?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, not I."</p> + +<p>"Think, girl! How could he call him Gerard, son of Eli, if you +had not told him?"</p> + +<p>Reicht persisted she had never mentioned him but as plain +Gerard. But Margaret told her flatly she did not believe her; at +which Reicht was affronted, and went out with a little toss of the +head. However she determined to question the hermit again, and +did not doubt he would be more liberal in his communication, when +he saw his nice new pelisse and the candles.</p> + +<p>She had not been gone long when Giles came in with ill news. +The living of Gouda would be kept vacant no longer.</p> + +<p>Margaret was greatly distressed at this. "Oh, Giles," said she, +"ask for another month. They will give thee another month, +maybe."</p> + +<p>He returned in an hour to tell her he could not get a month. +"They have given me a week," said he. "And what is a week?"</p> + +<p>"Drowning bodies catch at strawen," was her reply. "A week? +a little week?"</p> + +<p>Reicht came back from her errand out of spirits. Her oracle had +declined all further communications. So at least its obstinate silence +might fairly be interpreted.</p> + +<p>The next day Margaret put Reicht in charge of the shop, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_627" id="Page_627">[627]</a></span> +disappeared all day. So the next day; and so the next. Nor +would she tell any one where she had been. Perhaps she was +ashamed. The fact is she spent all those days on one little spot of +ground. When they thought her dreaming she was applying to +every word that fell from Joan and Reicht the whole powers of a +far acuter mind than either of them possessed.</p> + +<p>She went to work on a scale that never occurred to either of +them. She was determined to see the hermit, and question him face +to face, not through a wall. She found that by making a circuit +she could get above the cave and look down without being seen +by the solitary. But when she came to do it she found an impenetrable +mass of brambles. After tearing her clothes and her hands +and feet, so that she was soon covered with blood, the resolute, patient +girl took out her scissors and steadily snipped and cut till she made +a narrow path through the enemy. But so slow was the work that +she had to leave it half done. The next day she had her scissors +fresh ground, and brought a sharp knife as well; and gently, silently +cut her way through to the roof of the cave. There she made an +ambush of some of the cut brambles, so that the passers-by might +not see her, and couched with watchful eye till the hermit should +come out. She heard him move underneath her. But he never left +his cell. She began to think it was true that he only came out +at night. The next day she came early, and brought a jerkin she +was making for little Gerard, and there she sat all day working and +watching with dogged patience.</p> + +<p>At four o'clock the birds began to feed; and a great many of the +smaller kinds came fluttering round the cave, and one or two went +in. But most of them taking a preliminary seat on the bushes +suddenly discovered Margaret, and went off with an agitated flirt +of their little wings. And although they sailed about in the air +they would not enter the cave. Presently, to encourage them, the +hermit all unconscious of the cause of their tremors put out a thin +white hand with a few crumbs in it. Margaret laid down her +work softly, and gliding her body forward like a snake, looked +down at it from above: it was but a few feet from her. It was as +the woman described it, a thin, white hand.</p> + +<p>Presently the other hand came out with a piece of bread, and +the two hands together broke it and scattered the crumbs.</p> + +<p>But that other hand had hardly been out two seconds ere the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_628" id="Page_628">[628]</a></span> +violet eyes, that were watching above, dilated; and the gentle bosom +heaved and the whole frame quivered like a leaf in the wind.</p> + +<p>What her swift eye had seen I leave the reader to guess. She +suppressed the scream that rose to her lips; but the effort cost her +dear. Soon the left hand of the hermit began to swim indistinctly +before her gloating eyes: and with a deep sigh her head drooped, +and she lay like a broken lily.</p> + +<p>She was in a deep swoon, to which perhaps her long fast to-day, and +the agitation and sleeplessness of many preceding days contributed.</p> + +<p>And there lay beauty, intelligence, and constancy; pale and silent. +And little that hermit guessed who was so near him. The little +birds hopped on her now; and one nearly entangled his little feet +in her rich auburn hair.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>She came back to her troubles. The sun was set. She was very +cold. She cried a little; but I think it was partly from the remains +of physical weakness. And then she went home, praying +God and the saints to enlighten her and teach her what to do for +the best.</p> + +<p>When she got home she was pale and hysterical, and would say +nothing in answer to all their questions but her favourite word, +"We are wading in deep waters."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>The night seemed to have done wonders for her.</p> + +<p>She came to Catherine who was sitting sighing by the fireside, +and kissed and said, "Mother, what would you like best in the world?"</p> + +<p>"Eh, dear," replied Catherine, despondently. "I know nought that +would make me smile now; I have parted from too many that +were dear to me. Gerard lost again as soon as found. Kate in +heaven; and Sybrandt down for life."</p> + +<p>"Poor mother! Mother dear, Gouda manse is to be furnished, +and cleaned, and made ready all in a hurry. See here be ten +gold angels. Make them go far, good mother; for I have ta'en +over many already from my boy for a set of useless loons that were +aye going to find him for me."</p> + +<p>Catherine and Reicht stared at her a moment in silence; and +then out burst a flood of questions, to none of which would she give +a reply. "Nay," said she, "I have lain on my bed, and thought, and +thought, and thought, whiles you were all sleeping; and methinks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_629" id="Page_629">[629]</a></span> +I have got a clue to all. I love you, dear mother; but I'll trust +no woman's tongue. If I fail this time, I'll have none to blame but +Margaret Brandt."</p> + +<p>A resolute woman is a very resolute thing. And there was a +deep dogged determination in Margaret's voice and brow, that at once +convinced Catherine it would be idle to put any more questions +at that time. She and Reicht lost themselves in conjectures; and +Catherine whispered Reicht, "Bide quiet; then 'twill leak out;" a +shrewd piece of advice founded on general observation.</p> + +<p>Within an hour Catherine was on the road to Gouda in a cart +with two stout girls to help her, and quite a siege artillery of mops, +and pails, and brushes. She came back with heightened colour and +something of the old sparkle in her eye, and kissed Margaret with +a silent warmth that spoke volumes; and at five in the morning was +off again to Gouda.</p> + +<p>That night as Reicht was in her first sleep a hand gently pressed +her shoulder, and she awoke, and was going to scream.</p> + +<p>"Whisht," said Margaret, and put her finger to her lips.</p> + +<p>She then whispered. "Rise softly, don thy habits, and come +with me!"</p> + +<p>When she came down, Margaret begged her to loose Dragon and +bring him along. Now Dragon was a great mastiff, who had guarded +Margaret Van Eyck and Reicht, two lone women, for some years, +and was devotedly attached to the latter.</p> + +<p>Margaret and Reicht went out with Dragon walking majestically +behind them. They came back long after midnight and retired +to rest.</p> + +<p>Catherine never knew.</p> + +<p>Margaret read her friends: she saw the sturdy faithful Frisian +could hold her tongue; and Catherine could not. Yet I am not sure +she would have trusted even Reicht, had her nerve equalled her +spirit: but with all her daring and resolution, she was a tender, +timid woman, a little afraid of the dark, very afraid of being alone +in it, and desperately afraid of wolves. Now Dragon could kill +a wolf in a brace of shakes; but then Dragon would not go with +her, but only with Reicht. So altogether she made one confidante.</p> + +<p>The next night they made another moonlight reconnaissance; and, +as I think, with some result. For not the next night (it rained +that night and extinguished their courage), but the next after,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_630" id="Page_630">[630]</a></span> +they took with them a companion; the last in the world Reicht +Heynes would have thought of; yet she gave her warm approval as +soon as she was told he was to go with them.</p> + +<p>Imagine how these stealthy assailants trembled and panted, when +the moment of action came: imagine, if you can, the tumult in +Margaret's breast, the thrilling hopes, chasing and chased by, sickening +fears; the strange, and perhaps unparalleled mixture of tender +familiarity and distant awe, with which a lovely, and high spirited, +but tender adoring woman, wife in the eye of the Law, and no wife +in the eye of the Church, trembling, blushing, paling, glowing, +shivering, stole at night, noiseless as the dew, upon the hermit of +Gouda.</p> + +<p>And the stars above seemed never so bright and calm.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XCIV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>YES, the hermit of Gouda was the vicar of Gouda, and knew +it not, so absolute was his seclusion.</div> + +<p>My reader is aware that the moment the phrenzy of his +passion passed, he was seized with remorse for having been betrayed +into it. But perhaps only those who have risen as high in +religious spirit as he had, and suddenly fallen, can realize the terror +at himself that took possession of him. He felt like one whom +self-confidence had betrayed to the very edge of a precipice. "Ah, +good Jerome," he cried, "how much better you knew me than I +knew myself! How bitter yet wholesome was your admonition!"</p> + +<p>Accustomed to search his own heart, he saw at once that the true +cause of his fury was Margaret. "I love her better than God," +said he, despairingly, "better than the Church. From such a love +what can spring to me, or to her?" He shuddered at the thought. +"Let the strong battle temptation; 'tis for the weak to flee. And +who is weaker than I have shown myself? What is my penitence, +my religion? A pack of cards built by degrees into a fair-seeming +structure: and lo! one breath of earthly love, and it lies in the +dust. I must begin again: and on a surer foundation." He resolved +to leave Holland at once, and spend years of his life in some +distant convent before returning to it. By that time the temptations +of earthly passion would be doubly baffled; an older, and a better,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_631" id="Page_631">[631]</a></span> +monk, he should be more master of his earthly affections, and Margaret, +seeing herself abandoned, would marry, and love another.</p> + +<p>The very anguish this last thought cost him showed the self-searcher +and self-denier, that he was on the path of religious duty.</p> + +<p>But in leaving her for his immortal good and hers, he was not to +neglect her temporal weal. Indeed, the sweet thought he could make +her comfortable for life, and rich in this world's goods, which she +was not bound to despise, sustained him in the bitter struggle it +cost him to turn his back on her without one kind word or look. +"Oh, what will she think of me?" he groaned. "Shall I not seem to +her of all creatures the most heartless, inhuman? but so best: ay, +better she should hate me, miserable that I am. Heaven is merciful, +and giveth my broken heart this comfort; I can make that +villain restore her own, and she shall never lose another true lover +by poverty. Another? Ah me! ah me! God and the saints to +mine aid!"</p> + +<p>How he fared on this errand has been related. But first, as you may +perhaps remember, he went at night to shrive the hermit of Gouda. +He found him dying, and never left him till he had closed his eyes +and buried him beneath the floor of the little oratory attached to +his cell. It was the peaceful end of a stormy life. The hermit +had been a soldier, and even now carried a steel corselet next his +skin, saying he was now Christ's soldier as he had been Satan's. +When Clement had shriven him and prayed by him, he, in his turn, +sought counsel of one who was dying in so pious a frame. The +hermit advised him to be his successor in this peaceful retreat. +"His had been a hard fight against the world, the flesh, and the +devil, and he had never thoroughly baffled them till he retired into +the citadel of Solitude."</p> + +<p>These words and the hermit's pious and peaceful death, which +speedily followed, and set as it were the seal of immortal truth on +them, made a deep impression upon Clement. Nor in his case had +they any prejudice to combat; the solitary recluse was still profoundly +revered in the Church, whether immured as an anchorite, or +anchoress, in some cave or cell belonging to a monastery, or hidden +in the more savage but laxer seclusion of the independent hermitage. +And Clement knew more about the hermits of the Church than +most divines at his time of life; he had read much thereon at the +monastery near Tergou; had devoured their lives with wonder and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_632" id="Page_632">[632]</a></span> +delight in the manuscripts of the Vatican, and conversed earnestly +about them with the mendicant friars of several nations. Before +Printing these friars were the great circulators of those local annals +and biographies which accumulated in the convents of every land. +Then, his teacher, Jerome, had been three years an anchorite on the +heights of Camaldoli, where for more than four centuries the Thebaid +had been revived; and Jerome, cold and curt on most religious themes, +was warm with enthusiasm on this one. He had pored over the +annals of St. John Baptist's abbey, round about which the hermits' +caves were scattered, and told him the names of many a noble, and +many a famous warrior, who had ended his days there a hermit, +and of many a bishop and archbishop who had passed from the see +to the hermitage, or from the hermitage to the see. Among the +former the archbishop of Ravenna; among the latter Pope Victor the +Ninth. He told him too, with grim delight, of their multifarious +austerities, and how each hermit set himself to find where he was +weakest, and attacked himself without mercy or remission till there, +even there, he was strongest. And how seven times in the twenty-four +hours, in thunder, rain, or snow, by daylight, twilight, moonlight +or torchlight, the solitaries flocked from distant points, over +rugged precipitous ways, to worship in the convent church; at +matins, at prime, tierce, sexte, nones, vespers, and complin. He +even, under eager questioning, described to him the persons of +famous anchorites he had sung the Psalter and prayed with there; +the only intercourse their vows allowed, except with special permission. +Moncata, Duke of Moncata and Cardova, and Hidalgo +of Spain, who in the flower of his youth had retired thither from +the pomps, vanities, and pleasures of the world; Father John +Baptist of Novara, who had led armies to battle, but was now a +private soldier of Christ; Cornelius, Samuel, and Sylvanus. This +last, when the great Duchess de' Medici obtained the Pope's leave, +hitherto refused, to visit Camaldoli, went down and met her at the +first wooden cross, and there, surrounded as she was with courtiers +and flatterers, remonstrated with her and persuaded her, and warned +her, not to profane that holy mountain, where no woman for so many +centuries had placed her foot; and she, awed by the place and the +man, retreated with all her captains, soldiers, courtiers, and pages, +from that one hoary hermit. At Basle Clement found fresh materials,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_633" id="Page_633">[633]</a></span> +especially with respect to German and English anchorites; +and he had even prepared a "Catena Eremitarum" from the year +of our Lord 250, when Paul of Thebes commenced his ninety +years of solitude, down to the year 1470. He called them <i>Angelorum +amici et animalium</i>, <i>i. e.</i>,</p> + +<div class='center'> +FRIENDS OF ANGELS AND ANIMALS.<br /> +</div> + +<p>Thus, though in those days he never thought to be a recluse, the +road was paved, so to speak: and when the dying hermit of Gouda +blessed the citadel of Solitude, where he had fought the good fight +and won it, and invited him to take up the breastplate of faith, that +now fell off his own shrunken body, Clement said within himself: +"Heaven itself led my foot hither to this end." It struck him too, +as no small coincidence, that his patron, St. Bavon, was a hermit, +and an austere one, a cuirassier<a name="FNanchor_D_4" id="FNanchor_D_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_D_4" class="fnanchor">[D]</a> of the solitary cell.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was reconciled to Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, he went +eagerly to his new abode, praying Heaven it might not have been +already occupied in these three days. The fear was not vain; +these famous dens never wanted a human tenant long. He found the +rude stone door ajar; then he made sure he was too late; he opened +the door and went softly in. No; the cell was vacant, and there +were the hermit's great ivory crucifix, his pens, ink, seeds, and +memento mori, a skull; his cilice of hair, and another of bristles; +his well-worn sheepskin pelisse and hood, his hammer, chisel, and +psaltery, &c. Men and women had passed that way, but none had +ventured to intrude, far less to steal. Faith and simplicity had +guarded that keyless door more securely than the houses of the laity +were defended by their gates like a modern jail, and thick iron bars +at every window, and the gentry by moat, bastion, chevaux de frise, +and portcullis.</p> + +<p>As soon as Clement was fairly in the cell there was a loud flap, +and a flutter, and down came a great brown owl from a corner, and +whirled out of the window, driving the air cold on Clement's face. +He started and shuddered.</p> + +<p>Was this seeming owl something diabolical? trying to deter him +from his soul's good? On second thoughts, might it not be some<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_634" id="Page_634">[634]</a></span> +good spirit the hermit had employed to keep the cell for him, perhaps +the hermit himself? Finally he concluded that it was just an owl; +and that he would try and make friends with it.</p> + +<p>He kneeled down and inaugurated his new life with prayer.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Clement had not only an earthly passion to quell, the power of +which made him tremble for his eternal weal, but he had a penance +to do for having given way to ire, his besetting sin, and cursed his +own brothers.</p> + +<p>He looked round this roomy cell furnished with so many comforts, +and compared it with the pictures in his mind of the hideous place, +eremus in eremo, a desert in a desert, where holy Jerome, hermit, +and the Plutarch of hermits had wrestled with sickness, temptation, +and despair, four mortal years; and with the inaccessible and thorny +niche, a hole in a precipice, where the boy hermit Benedict buried +himself and lived three years on the pittance the good monk Romanus +could spare him from his scanty commons; and subdivided that mouthful +with his friend, a raven; and the hollow tree of his patron St. +Bavon, and the earthly purgatory at Fribourg, where lived a nameless +saint in a horrid cavern, his eyes chilled with perpetual gloom, +and his ears stunned with an eternal waterfall; and the pillar on +which St. Simeon Stylita existed forty-five years, and the destina, +or stone box, of St. Dunstan, where like Hilarion in his bulrush +hive, sepulchro potius quam domu, he could scarce sit, stand or +lie; and the living tombs, sealed with lead, of Thais, and Christina, +and other recluses; and the damp dungeon of St. Alred. These and +scores more of the dismal dens in which true hermits had worn out +their wasted bodies on the rock, and the rock under their sleeping +bodies, and their praying knees, all came into his mind, and he said +to himself, "This sweet retreat is for safety of the soul; but what +for penance? Jesu aid me against faults to come; and for the +fault I rue, face of man I will not see for a twelvemonth and a +day." He had famous precedents in his eye even for this last and +unusual severity. In fact the original hermit of this very cell was +clearly under the same vow. Hence the two apertures through which +he was spoken to, and replied.</p> + +<p>Adopting, in other respects, the uniform rule of hermits and +anchorites, he divided his day into the seven offices, ignoring the +petty accidents of light and dark, creations both of Him to whom<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_635" id="Page_635">[635]</a></span> +he prayed so unceasingly. He learned the psalter by heart, and in all +the intervals of devotion, not occupied by broken slumbers, he worked +hard with his hands. No article of the hermit's rule was more +strict or more ancient than this. And here his self-imposed penance +embarrassed him, for what work could he do, without being seen, +that should benefit his neighbours? for the hermit was to labour <i>for +himself</i> in those cases only where his subsistence depended on it. +Now Clement's modest needs were amply supplied by the villagers.</p> + +<p>On moonlight nights he would steal out like a thief, and dig some +poor man's garden on the outskirts of the village. He made baskets +and dropped them slily at humble doors.</p> + +<p>And since he could do nothing for the bodies of those who passed +by his cell in daytime, he went out in the dead of the night with his +hammer and his chisel, and carved moral and religious sentences +all down the road upon the sandstone rocks. "Who knows?" said +he, "often a chance shaft striketh home. Oh, sore heart, comfort +thou the poor and bereaved with holy words of solace in their native +tongue; for <i>he</i> said well, ''tis clavis ad corda plebis.'" Also he +remembered the learned Colonna had told him of the written +mountains in the east where kings had inscribed their victories. +"What," said Clement, "are they so wise, those Eastern monarchs, +to engrave their warlike glory upon the rock, making a blood bubble +endure so long as earth; and shall I leave the rocks about me silent +on the King of Glory, at whose word they were, and at whose breath +they shall be dust? Nay, but these stones shall speak to weary wayfarers +of eternal peace, and of the Lamb, whose frail, and afflicted, +yet happy servant worketh them among."</p> + +<p>Now at this time the inspired words that have consoled the poor +and the afflicted for so many ages, were not yet printed in Dutch, +so that these sentences of gold from the holy Evangelists came like +fresh oracles from heaven, or like the dew on parched flowers; and +the poor hermit's written rocks softened a heart or two, and sent +the heavy laden singing on their way.<a name="FNanchor_E_5" id="FNanchor_E_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_E_5" class="fnanchor">[E]</a></p> + +<p>These holy oracles that seemed to spring up around him like magic; +his prudent answers through his window to such as sought ghostly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_636" id="Page_636">[636]</a></span> +counsel; and above all, his invisibility, soon gained him a prodigious +reputation. This was not diminished by the medical advice they +now and then extorted from him, sore against his will, by tears and +entreaties; for if the patients got well, they gave the holy hermit +the credit, and if not, they laid all the blame on the devil. I think +he killed nobody, for his remedies were "womanish and weak." +Sage, and wormwood, sion, hyssop, borage, spikenard, dog's-tongue, +our Lady's mantle, feverfew, and Faith, and all in small quantities +except the last.</p> + +<p>Then his abstinence, sure sign of a saint. The eggs and milk +they brought him at first he refused with horror. Know ye not the +hermit's rule is bread, or herbs, and water? Eggs, they are birds +in disguise; for when the bird dieth then the egg rotteth. As for +milk, it is little better than white blood. And when they brought +him too much bread he refused it. Then they used to press it on him. +"Nay, holy father; give the overplus to the poor."</p> + +<p>"You who go among the poor can do that better. Is bread a +thing to fling haphazard from an hermit's window?" And to those +who persisted after this: "To live on charity, yet play Sir Bountiful, +is to lie with the right hand. Giving another's to the poor, I +should beguile them of their thanks, and cheat thee the true giver. +Thus do thieves, whose boast it is they bleed the rich into the lap +of the poor. Occasio avaritiæ nomen pauperum."</p> + +<p>When nothing else would convince the good souls, this piece of +Latin always brought them round. So would a line of Virgil's +Æneid.</p> + +<p>This great reputation of sanctity was all external. Inside the cell +was a man who held the hermit of Gouda as cheap as dirt.</p> + +<p>"Ah!" said he, "I cannot deceive myself; I cannot deceive God's +animals. See the little birds, how coy they be! I feed and feed +them and long for their friendship, yet will they never come within, +nor take my hand, by lighting on't. For why? No Paul, no Benedict, +no Hugh of Lincoln, no Columbia, no Guthlac bides in this cell. +Hunted doe flieth not hither, for here is no Fructuosus, nor Aventine, +nor Albert of Suabia: nor e'en a pretty squirrel cometh from the +wood hard by for the acorns I have hoarded; for here abideth no +Columban. The very owl that was here hath fled. They are not +to be deceived; I have a Pope's word for that; Heaven rest his soul."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_637" id="Page_637">[637]</a></span></p> + +<p>Clement had one advantage over her, whose image in his heart +he was bent on destroying.</p> + +<p>He had suffered and survived the pang of bereavement; and the +mind cannot quite repeat such anguish. Then he had built up a +habit of looking on her as dead. After that strange scene in the +church and churchyard of St. Laurens, that habit might be compared +to a structure riven by a thunderbolt. It was shattered, but +stones enough stood to found a similar habit on; to look on her as +dead <i>to him</i>.</p> + +<p>And, by severe subdivision of his time and thoughts, by unceasing +prayers, and manual labour, he did, in about three months, +succeed in benumbing the earthly half of his heart.</p> + +<p>But, lo! within a day or two of this first symptom of mental peace +returning slowly, there descended upon his mind a horrible despondency.</p> + +<p>Words cannot utter it; for words never yet painted a likeness of +despair. Voices seemed to whisper in his ear, "Kill thyself, kill! +kill! kill!"</p> + +<p>And he longed to obey the voices; for life was intolerable. He +wrestled with his dark enemy with prayers and tears; he prayed +God but to vary his temptation. "Oh let mine enemy have power to +scourge me with red-hot whips, to tear me leagues and leagues over +rugged places by the hair of my head, as he has served many a holy +hermit, that yet baffled him at last; to fly on me like a raging lion; to +gnaw me with a serpent's fangs: any pain, any terror, but this horrible +gloom of the soul that shuts me from all light of Thee and of the +saints."</p> + +<p>And now a freezing thought crossed him. What if the triumphs +of the powers of darkness over Christian souls in desert places, had +been suppressed; and only their defeats recorded, or at least in full: +for dark hints were scattered about antiquity that now first began to +grin at him with terrible meaning.</p> + +<p>"THEY WANDERED IN THE DESERT AND PERISHED +BY SERPENTS," said an ancient father, of hermits that went into +solitude, "and were seen no more." And another at a more recent +epoch, wrote: "Vertunter ad melancoliam;" "they turn to gloomy +madness." These two statements were they not one? for the ancient +fathers never spoke with regret of the death of the body. No,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_638" id="Page_638">[638]</a></span> +the hermits so lost were perished souls, and the serpents were diabolical<a name="FNanchor_F_6" id="FNanchor_F_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_F_6" class="fnanchor">[F]</a> +thoughts, the natural brood of solitude.</p> + +<p>St. Jerome went into the desert with three companions; one fled +in the first year; two died: how? The single one that lasted, was a +gigantic soul with an iron body.</p> + +<p>The cotemporary who related this made no comment; expressed no +wonder. What then if here was a glimpse of the true proportion in +every age, and many souls had always been lost in solitude for one +gigantic mind and iron body that survived this terrible ordeal.</p> + +<p>The darkened recluse now cast his despairing eyes over antiquity +to see what weapons the Christian arsenal contained, that might befriend +him. The greatest of all was prayer. Alas! it was a part of +his malady to be unable to pray with true fervour. The very system +of mechanical supplication he had for months carried out so severely +by rule had rather checked than fostered his power of originating +true prayer.</p> + +<p>He prayed louder than ever, but the heart hung back cold and +gloomy, and let the words go up alone.</p> + +<p>"Poor wingless prayers," he cried; "you will not get half way to +heaven."</p> + +<p>A fiend of this complexion had been driven out of King Saul by +music.</p> + +<p>Clement took up the hermit's psaltery, and with much trouble +mended the strings and tuned it.</p> + +<p>No, he could not play it. His soul was so out of tune. The +sounds jarred on it, and made him almost mad.</p> + +<p>"Ah, wretched me!" he cried. "Saul had a saint to play to him. +He was not alone with the spirits of darkness; but here is no sweet +bard of Israel to play to me; I, lonely, with crushed heart, on which +a black fiend sitteth mountain high, must make the music to uplift +that heart to heaven; it may not be." And he grovelled on the earth +weeping and tearing his hair.</p> + +<p>VERTEBATUR AD MELANCHOLIAM.</p> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_639" id="Page_639">[639]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CHAPTER XCV</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>ONE day as he lay there sighing, and groaning, prayerless, +tuneless, hopeless, a thought flashed into his mind. What +he had done for the poor and the wayfarer, he would do for +himself. He would fill his den of despair with the name of God +and the magic words of holy writ, and the pious, prayerful, consolations +of the Church.</div> + +<p>Then, like Christian at Apollyon's feet, he reached his hand suddenly +out and caught, not his sword, for he had none, but peaceful +labour's humbler weapon, his chisel, and worked with it as if his +soul depended on his arm.</p> + +<p>They say that Michael Angelo in the next generation used to carve +statues, not like our timid sculptors, by modelling the work in clay, +and then setting a mechanic to chisel it; but would seize the block, +conceive the image, and, at once, with mallet and steel make the +marble chips fly like mad about him, and the mass sprout into form. +Even so Clement drew no lines to guide his hand. He went to his +memory for the gracious words, and then dashed at his work and +eagerly graved them in the soft stone, between working and fighting.</p> + +<p>He begged his visitors for candle ends, and rancid oil.</p> + +<p>"Anything is good enough for <i>me</i>," he said, "if 'twill but burn." +So at night the cave glowed afar off like a blacksmith's forge, through +the window and the gaping chinks of the rude stone door, and the +rustics beholding crossed themselves and suspected deviltries, and, +within, the holy talismans one after another came upon the walls, and +the sparks and the chips flew day and night, night and +day, as the soldier of Solitude and of the Church plied, with sighs +and groans, his bloodless weapon, between working and fighting.</p> + +<div class='center'> +<i>Kyrie Eleeison</i><br /> +<i>Christe Eleeison</i><br /><br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindnent'><ins title="Greek transliteration: Ton Satanan syntripson hypo tous podas hêmôn">Τον Σαταναν +συνριψον ὑπο +τους ποδας ἡμω.</ins><a name="FNanchor_1_7" id="FNanchor_1_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_7" class="fnanchor">[1]</a><br /> +</div> + +<p><i>Sursum corda</i><a name="FNanchor_2_8" id="FNanchor_2_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_8" class="fnanchor">[2]</a><br /></p> + +<p><i>Deus refugium nostrum et virtus</i><a name="FNanchor_3_9" id="FNanchor_3_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_9" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><br /></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_640" id="Page_640">[640]</a></span></p> +<p><i>Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere mihi.</i><a name="FNanchor_4_10" id="FNanchor_4_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_10" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></p> + +<p><i>Sancta Trinitas unus Deus, miserere nobis.</i><a name="FNanchor_5_11" id="FNanchor_5_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_11" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></p> + +<p><i>Ab infestationibus Daemonum, a ventura ira, a damnatione perpetua.</i><a name="FNanchor_6_12" id="FNanchor_6_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_12" class="fnanchor">[6]</a><br /></p> + +<p><span style="margin-left: 22em;"><i>Libera nos Domine</i></span><br /> +<i>Deus, qui miro ordine Angelorum ministeria, etc.</i> (the whole collect).<a name="FNanchor_7_13" id="FNanchor_7_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_13" class="fnanchor">[7]</a></p> + +<p><i>Quem quaerimus adjutorem nisi te Domine, qui pro peccatis +nostris juste irascaris?</i><a name="FNanchor_8_14" id="FNanchor_8_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_14" class="fnanchor">[8]</a></p> + +<p><i>Sancte Deus, Sancte fortis, Sancte et misericors Salvator, amarae +morti ne tradas nos.</i></p> + +<p>And underneath the great crucifix, which was fastened to the wall, +he graved this from Augustine:—</p> + +<p><i>O anima Christiana, respice vulnera patientis, sanguinem morientis, +pretium redemptionis.—Haec quanta sint cogitate, et in +statera mentis vestrae appendite, ut totus vobis figatur in corde, +qui pro vobis totus firus est in cruce. Nam, si passio Christi ad +memoriam revocetur, nihil est tam durum quod non aequo animo +toleretur.</i></p> + +<p>Which may be thus rendered:—</p> + +<p><i>O Christian soul, look on the wounds of the suffering One, the +blood of the dying One, the price paid for our redemption! These +things, oh think how great they be, and weigh them in the balance +of thy mind: that He may be wholly nailed to thy heart, who for thee +was all nailed unto the cross. For do but call to mind the sufferings +of Christ, and there is nought on earth too hard to endure with composure.</i></p> + +<p>Soothed a little, a very little, by the sweet and pious words he was +raising all round him, and weighed down with watching and working +night and day, Clement one morning sank prostrate with fatigue; +and a deep sleep overpowered him for many hours.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_641" id="Page_641">[641]</a></span></p><p>Awaking quietly, he heard a little cheep; he opened his eyes, and, +lo! upon his breviary which was on a lone stool near his feet, ruffling +all his feathers with a single pull, and smoothing them as suddenly, +and cocking his bill this way and that with a vast display of +cunning purely imaginary, perched a robin redbreast.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Clement held his breath.</p> + +<p>He half closed his eyes lest they should frighten the airy guest.</p> + +<p>Down came robin on the floor.</p> + +<p>When there he went through his pantomime of astuteness; and +then, pim, pim, pim, with three stiff little hops, like a ball of worsted +on vertical wires, he was on the hermit's bare foot. On this eminence +he swelled, and contracted again, with ebb and flow of feathers; but +Clement lost this, for he quite closed his eyes and scarce drew his +breath in fear of frightening and losing his visitor. He was content +to feel the minute claw on his foot. He could but just feel it, and +that by help of knowing it was there.</p> + +<p>Presently a little flirt with two little wings, and the feathered +busy-body was on the breviary again.</p> + +<p>Then Clement determined to try and feed this pretty little fidget +without frightening it away. But it was very difficult. He had a +piece of bread within reach, but how get at it? I think he was five +minutes creeping his hand up to that bread, and when there he must +not move his arm.</p> + +<p>He slily got a crumb between a finger and thumb and shot it as +boys do marbles, keeping the hand quite still.</p> + +<p>Cockrobin saw it fall near him, and did sagacity, but moved not.</p> + +<p>When another followed, and then another: he popped down and +caught up one of the crumbs, but not quite understanding this +mystery fled with it, for more security, to an eminence; to wit the +hermit's knee.</p> + +<p>And so the game proceeded till a much larger fragment than usual +rolled along.</p> + +<p>Here was a prize. Cockrobin pounced on it, bore it aloft and fled +so swiftly into the world with it, the cave resounded with the buffeted +air.</p> + +<p>"Now, bless thee, sweet bird," sighed the stricken solitary; "thy +wings are music, and thou a feathered ray camedst to light my darkened +soul."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_642" id="Page_642">[642]</a></span></p> + +<p>And from that to his orisons; and then to his tools with a little bit +of courage; and this was his day's work:—</p> + +<div class='poem'> +<i>Veni Creator Spiritus<br /> +Mentes tuorum visita<br /> +Imple superna gratia<br /> +Quae tu creasti pectora</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Accende lumen sensibus<br /> +Mentes tuorum visita<br /> +Infirma nostri corporis<br /> +Virtute firmans perpetim.</i><br /> +</div> + +<p>And so the days rolled on; and the weather got colder and Clement's +heart got warmer; and despondency was rolling away; and by-and-by, +somehow or another, it was gone. He had outlived it.</p> + +<p>It had come like a cloud, and it went like one.</p> + +<p>And presently all was reversed; his cell seemed illuminated with +joy. His work pleased him; his prayers were full of unction; his +psalms of praise. Hosts of little birds followed their crimson leader, +and flying from snow, and a parish full of Cains, made friends one +after another with Abel; fast friends. And one keen frosty night +as he sang the praises of God to his tuneful psaltery, and his hollow +cave rang forth the holy psalmody upon the night, as if that cave +itself was Tubal's sounding shell, or David's harp, he heard a clear +whine, not unmelodious; it became louder and less in tune. He +peeped through the chinks of his rude door, and there sat a great +red wolf moaning melodiously with his nose high in the air.</p> + +<p>Clement was rejoiced. "My sins are going," he cried, "and the +creatures of God are owning me, one after another." And in a +burst of enthusiasm he struck up the laud:</p> + +<p>"Praise Him all ye creatures of His! +Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord."</p> + +<p>And all the time he sang the wolf bayed at intervals.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>But above all he seemed now to be drawing nearer to that celestial +intercourse, which was the sign, and the bliss of the true hermit; for +he had dreams about the saints and angels, so vivid, they were more +like visions. He saw bright figures clad in woven snow. They bent +on him eyes lovelier than those of the antelopes he had seen at Rome,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_643" id="Page_643">[643]</a></span> +and fanned him with broad wings hued like the rainbow, and their +gentle voices bade him speed upon his course.</p> + +<p>He had not long enjoyed this felicity, when his dreams began to +take another and a strange complexion. He wandered with Fra Colonna +over the relics of antique nations, and the friar was lame and +had a staff, and this staff he waved over the mighty ruins, and were +they Egyptian, Greek, or Roman, straightway the temples and palaces +whose wrecks they were, rose again like an exhalation, and were +thronged with the famous dead. Songsters that might have eclipsed +both Apollo and his rival, poured forth their lays; women, godlike +in form, and draped like Minerva, swam round the marble courts in +voluptuous but easy and graceful dances. Here sculptors carved away +amidst admiring pupils, and forms of supernatural beauty grew out +of Parian marble in a quarter of an hour; and grave philosophers +conversed on high and subtle matters, with youth listening reverently; +it was a long time ago. And still beneath all this wonderful panorama +a sort of suspicion or expectation lurked in the dreamer's +mind. "This is a prologue, a flourish, there is something behind; +something that means me no good, something mysterious, awful."</p> + +<p>And one night that the wizard Colonna had transcended himself, +he pointed with his stick, and there was a swallowing up of many +great ancient cities, and the pair stood on a vast sandy plain with a +huge crimson sun sinking to rest. There were great palm-trees; and +there were bulrush hives, scarce a man's height, dotted all about to +the sandy horizon, and the crimson sun.</p> + +<p>"These are the anchorites of the Theban desert," said Colonna, +calmly; "followers not of Christ and his apostles, and the great +fathers, but of the Greek pupils of the Egyptian pupils of the Brachmans +and Gymnosophists."</p> + +<p>And Clement thought that he burned to go and embrace the holy +men and tell them his troubles, and seek their advice. But he was +tied by the feet somehow, and could not move, and the crimson sun +sank; and it got dusk, and the hives scarce visible. And Colonna's +figure became shadowy and shapeless, but his eyes glowed ten times +brighter: and this thing all eyes spoke and said: "Nay, let them +be, a pack of fools! see how dismal it all is." Then with a sudden +sprightliness, "But I hear one of them has a manuscript of Petronius, +on papyrus; I go to buy it, farewell for ever, for ever, for ever."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_644" id="Page_644">[644]</a></span></p> + +<p>And it was pitch dark, and a light came at Clement's back like a +gentle stroke; a glorious roseate light. It warmed as well as brightened. +It loosened his feet from the ground; he turned round, and +there, her face irradiated with sunshine, and her hair glittering like +the gloriola of a saint, was Margaret Brandt.</p> + +<p>She blushed and smiled and cast a look of ineffable tenderness on +him. "Gerard," she murmured, "be whose thou wilt by day, but at +night be mine!"</p> + +<p>Even as she spoke, the agitation of seeing her so suddenly awakened +him, and he found himself lying trembling from head to foot.</p> + +<p>That radiant figure, and mellow voice, seemed to have struck his +nightly keynote.</p> + +<p>Awake he could pray, and praise, and worship God; he was master +of his thoughts. But, if he closed his eyes in sleep, Margaret, or +Satan in her shape, beset him, a seeming angel of light. He might +dream of a thousand different things, wide as the poles asunder, ere +he woke the imperial figure was sure to come and extinguish all the +rest in a moment stellas exortus uti ætherius sol: for she came glowing +with two beauties never before united, an angel's radiance and a +woman's blushes.</p> + +<p>Angels cannot blush. So he knew it was a fiend.</p> + +<p>He was alarmed, but not so much surprised as at the demon's last +artifice. From Anthony to Nicholas of the Rock scarce a hermit that +had not been thus beset; sometimes with gay voluptuous visions, +sometimes with lovely phantoms, warm, tangible, and womanly without, +demons within, nor always baffled even by the saints. Witness +that "angel form with a devil's heart," that came hanging its lovely +head, like a bruised flower, to St. Macarius, with a feigned tale; +and wept, and wept, and wept, and beguiled him first of his tears +and then of half his virtue.</p> + +<p>But with the examples of Satanic power and craft had come down +copious records of the hermits' triumphs and the weapons by which +they had conquered.</p> + +<p>Domandum est corpus; the body must be tamed; this had been their +watchword for twelve hundred years. It was a tremendous war-cry; +for they called the earthly affections, as well as appetites, body; and +crushed the whole heart through the suffering and mortified flesh.</p> + +<p>Clement then said to himself that the great enemy of man had retired +but to spring with more effect, and had allowed him a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_645" id="Page_645">[645]</a></span> +days of true purity and joy only to put him off his guard against the +soft blandishments he was pouring over the soul, that had survived the +buffeting of his black wings. He applied himself to tame the body; +he shortened his sleep, lengthened his prayers, and increased his +severe temperance to abstinence. Hitherto, following the ordinary +rule, he had eaten only at sunset. Now he ate but once in forty-eight +hours, drinking a little water every day.</p> + +<p>On this the visions became more distinct.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Then he flew to a famous antidote; to "the grand febrifuge" of +anchorites—cold water.</p> + +<p>He found the deepest part of the stream that ran by his cell; it +rose not far off at a holy well; and, clearing the bottom of the large +stones, made a hole where he could stand in water to the chin, and, +fortified by so many examples, he sprang from his rude bed upon the +next diabolical assault, and entered the icy water.</p> + +<p>It made him gasp and almost shriek with the cold. It froze his +marrow. "I shall die," he cried, "I shall die: but better this, than +fire eternal."</p> + +<p>And the next day he was so stiff in all his joints he could not move, +and he seemed one great ache. And even in sleep he felt that his +very bones were like so many raging teeth, till the phantom he +dreaded came and gave one pitying smile, and all the pain was gone.</p> + +<p>Then, feeling that to go into the icy water again, enfeebled by fasts, +as he was, might perhaps carry the guilt of suicide, he scourged himself +till the blood ran, and so lay down smarting.</p> + +<p>And when exhaustion began to blunt the smart down to a throb, +that moment the present was away, and the past came smiling back. +He sat with Margaret at the duke's feast, the minstrels played divinely, +and the purple fountains gushed. Youth and love reigned +in each heart, and perfumed the very air.</p> + +<p>Then the scene shifted and they stood at the altar together man and +wife. And no interruption this time, and they wandered hand in +hand, and told each other their horrible dreams. As for him "he had +dreamed she was dead, and he was a monk; and really the dream had +been so vivid and so full of particulars that only his eyesight could +even now convince him it was only a dream, and they were really +one."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_646" id="Page_646">[646]</a></span></p> + +<p>And this new keynote once struck, every tune ran upon it. Awake +he was Clement the hermit, risen from unearthly visions of the night, +as dangerous as they were sweet; asleep he was Gerard Eliassoen, the +happy husband of the loveliest and best, and truest girl in Holland: +all the happier that he had been for some time the sport of hideous +dreams, in which he had lost her.</p> + +<p>His constant fasts, coupled with other austerities, and the deep +mental anxiety of a man fighting with a supernatural foe, had now +reduced him nearly to a skeleton; but still on those aching bones hung +flesh unsubdued, quivering with an earthly passion; so however, he +thought; "or why had ill spirits such power over him?" His opinion +was confirmed, when one day he detected himself sinking to sleep +actually with a feeling of complacency, because now Margaret would +come and he should feel no more pain, and the unreal would be +real, and the real unreal, for an hour.</p> + +<p>On this he rose hastily with a cry of dismay, and stripping to the +skin climbed up to the brambles above his cave, and flung himself on +them, and rolled on them writhing with the pain: then he came into +his den a mass of gore, and lay moaning for hours; till, out of sheer +exhaustion, he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.</p> + +<p>He awoke to bodily pain, and mental exultation; he had broken the +fatal spell. Yes, it was broken; another and another day passed, +and her image molested him no more. But he caught himself sighing +at his victory.</p> + +<p>The birds got tamer and tamer, they perched upon his hand. Two +of them let him gild their little claws. Eating but once in two days +he had more to give them.</p> + +<p>His tranquillity was not to last long.</p> + +<p>A woman's voice came in from the outside, told him his own story +in a very few words, and asked him to tell her where Gerard was to +be found.</p> + +<p>He was so astounded he could only say, with an instinct of self-defence, +"Pray for the soul of Gerard, the son of Eli!" meaning that +he was dead to the world. And he sat wondering.</p> + +<p>When the woman was gone, he determined, after an inward battle, +to risk being seen, and he peeped after her to see who it could be: +but he took so many precautions, and she ran so quickly back to her +friend that the road was clear.</p> + +<p>"Satan!" said he, directly.</p> + +<p>And that night back came his visions of earthly love and happiness<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_647" id="Page_647">[647]</a></span> +so vividly, he could count every auburn hair in Margaret's head, and +see the pupils of her eyes.</p> + +<p>Then he began to despair, and said, "I must leave this country; +here I am bound fast in memory's chain:" and began to dread his +cell. He said "A breath from hell hath infected it, and robbed even +these holy words of their virtue." And unconsciously imitating St. +Jerome, a victim of earthly hallucinations, as overpowering, and +coarser, he took his warmest covering out into the wood hard by, and +there flung down under a tree that torn and wrinkled leather bag of +bones, which a little ago might have served a sculptor for Apollo.</p> + +<p>Whether the fever of his imagination intermitted, as a master +mind of our day has shown that all things intermit,<a name="FNanchor_G_15" id="FNanchor_G_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_G_15" class="fnanchor">[G]</a> or that this +really broke some subtle link, I know not, but his sleep was dreamless.</p> + +<p>He awoke nearly frozen, but warm with joy within.</p> + +<p>"I shall yet be a true hermit, Dei gratiâ," said he.</p> + +<p>The next day some good soul left on his little platform a new lambs-wool +pelisse and cape, warm, soft, and ample.</p> + +<p>He had a moment's misgiving on account of its delicious softness +and warmth; but that passed. It was the right skin,<a name="FNanchor_H_16" id="FNanchor_H_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_H_16" class="fnanchor">[H]</a> and a mark +that Heaven approved his present course.</p> + +<p>It restored warmth to his bones after he came in from his short +rest.</p> + +<p>And now, at one moment he saw victory before him if he could but +live to it; at another, he said to himself, "'Tis but another lull; be +on thy guard, Clement."</p> + +<p>And this thought agitated his nerves and kept him in continual awe.</p> + +<p>He was like a soldier within the enemy's lines.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>One night, a beautiful clear frosty night, he came back to his cell, +after a short rest. The stars were wonderful. Heaven seemed a +thousand times larger as well as brighter than earth, and to look with +a thousand eyes instead of one.</p> + +<p>"Oh, wonderful," he cried, "that there should be men who do +crimes by night; and others scarce less mad, who live for this little +world, and not for that great and glorious one, which nightly, to all +eyes not blinded by custom, reveals its glowing glories. Thank God +I am a hermit."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_648" id="Page_648">[648]</a></span></p><p>And in this mood he came to his cell door.</p> + +<p>He paused at it; it was closed.</p> + +<p>"Why, methought I left it open," said he. "The wind. There is +not a breath of wind. What means this?"</p> + +<p>He stood with his hand upon the rugged door. He looked through +one of the great chinks, for it was much smaller in places than the +aperture it pretended to close, and saw his little oil wick burning +just where he had left it.</p> + +<p>"How is it with me," he sighed, "when I start and tremble at nothing? +Either I did shut it, or the fiend hath shut it after me to disturb +my happy soul. Retro Sathanas!"</p> + +<p>And he entered his cave rapidly, and began with somewhat nervous +expedition to light one of his largest tapers. While he was +lighting it, there was a soft sigh in the cave.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>He started and dropped the candle just as it was lighting, and it +went out.</p> + +<p>He stooped for it hurriedly and lighted it, listening intently. +When it was lighted he shaded it with his hand from behind, and +threw the faint light all round the cell.</p> + +<p>In the farthest corner the outline of the wall seemed broken.</p> + +<p>He took a step towards the place with his heart beating.</p> + +<p>The candle at the same time getting brighter, he saw it was the +figure of a woman.</p> + +<p>Another step with his knees knocking together.</p> + +<p>IT WAS MARGARET BRANDT.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XCVI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>HER attitude was one to excite pity rather than terror, in eyes +not blinded by a preconceived notion. Her bosom was fluttering +like a bird, and the red and white coming and going +in her cheeks, and she had her hand against the wall by the +instinct of timid things, she trembled so; and the marvellous mixed +gaze of love, and pious awe, and pity, and tender memories, those +purple eyes cast on the emaciated and glaring hermit, was an event +in nature.</div> + +<p>"Aha!" he cried. "Thou art come at last in flesh and blood; +come to me as thou camest to holy Anthony. But I am ware of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_649" id="Page_649">[649]</a></span> +thee; I thought thy wiles were not exhausted. I am armed." With +this he snatched up his small crucifix and held it out at her, +astonished, and the candle in the other hand, both crucifix and +candle shaking violently, "Exorcizo te."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no!" cried she, piteously; and put out two pretty deprecating +palms. "Alas! work me no ill! It is Margaret."</p> + +<p>"Liar!" shouted the hermit. "Margaret was fair, but not so +supernatural fair as thou. Thou didst shrink at that sacred name, +thou subtle hypocrite. In Nomine Dei exorcizo vos."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Jesu!" gasped Margaret, in extremity of terror, "curse +me not! I will go home. I thought <i>I</i> might come. For very +manhood be-Latin me not! Oh Gerard, is it thus you and I meet +after all; after all?"</p> + +<p>And she cowered almost to her knees, and sobbed with superstitious +fear, and wounded affection.</p> + +<p>Impregnated as he was with Satanophobia, he might perhaps +have doubted still whether this distressed creature, all woman, and +nature, was not all art, and fiend. But her spontaneous appeal to +that sacred name dissolved his chimera; and let him see with his +eyes, and hear with his ears.</p> + +<p>He uttered a cry of self-reproach, and tried to raise her; but +what with fasts, what with the over-powering emotion of a long +solitude so broken, he could not. "What," he gasped shaking over +her, "and is it thou? And have I met thee with hard words? +Alas!" And they were both choked with emotion, and could not +speak for a while.</p> + +<p>"I heed it not much," said Margaret, bravely, struggling with her +tears; "you took me for another: for a devil; oh! oh! oh! oh! oh!"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me, sweet soul!" And as soon as he could speak +more than a word at a time, he said, "I have been much beset +by the evil one since I came here."</p> + +<p>Margaret looked round with a shudder. "Like enow. Then oh +take my hand, and let me lead thee from this foul place."</p> + +<p>He gazed at her with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"What, desert my cell; and go into the world again? Is it for +that thou hast come to me?" said he, sadly and reproachfully.</p> + +<p>"Ay, Gerard. I am come to take thee to thy pretty vicarage: +art vicar of Gouda, thanks to Heaven and thy good brother Giles: +and mother and I have made it so neat for thee, Gerard. 'Tis well<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_650" id="Page_650">[650]</a></span> +enow in winter I promise thee. But bide a bit till the hawthorn +bloom, and anon thy walls put on their kirtle of brave roses, and +sweet woodbine. Have we forgotten thee, and the foolish things +thou lovest? And, dear Gerard, thy mother is waiting; and 'tis +late for her to be out of her bed: prithee; prithee; come! And +the moment we are out of this foul hole I'll show thee a treasure +thou hast gotten, and knowest nought on't, or sure hadst never fled +from us so. Alas! what is to do? What have I ignorantly said; +to be regarded thus?"</p> + +<p>For he had drawn himself all up into a heap, and was looking +at her with a strange gaze of fear and suspicion blended.</p> + +<p>"Unhappy girl," said he, solemnly, yet deeply agitated, "would +you have me risk my soul and yours for a miserable vicarage and +the flowers that grow on it? But this is not thy doing: the bowelless +fiend sends thee, poor simple girl, to me with this bait. But +oh, cunning fiend, I will unmask thee even to this thine instrument, +and she shall see thee, and abhor thee as I do. Margaret, my lost +love, why am I here? Because I love thee."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no, Gerard, you love me not, or you would not have hidden +from me; there was no need."</p> + +<p>"Let there be no deceit between us twain: that have loved so true; +and after this night, shall meet no more on earth."</p> + +<p>"Now God forbid!" said she.</p> + +<p>"I love thee, and thou hast not forgotten me, or thou hadst married +ere this, and hadst not been the one to find me, buried here +from sight of man. I am a priest, a monk: what but folly or sin can +come of you and me living neighbours, and feeding a passion innocent +once, but now (so Heaven wills it) impious and unholy? No, +though my heart break I must be firm. 'Tis I that am the man, +'tis I that am the priest. You and I must meet no more, till I am +schooled by solitude, and thou art wedded to another."</p> + +<p>"I consent to my doom but not to thine. I would ten times liever +die; yet I will marry, ay, wed misery itself sooner than let thee +lie in this foul dismal place, with yon sweet manse a waiting for +thee." Clement groaned; at each word she spoke out stood clearer +and clearer, two things—his duty, and the agony it must cost.</p> + +<p>"My beloved," said he, with a strange mixture of tenderness and +dogged resolution, "I bless thee for giving me one more sight of +thy sweet face, and may God forgive thee, and bless thee, for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_651" id="Page_651">[651]</a></span> +destroying in a minute the holy peace it hath taken six months of +solitude to build. No matter. A year of penance will, Dei gratiâ, +restore me to my calm. My poor Margaret, I seem cruel: yet I +am kind: 'tis best we part; ay, this moment."</p> + +<p>"Part, Gerard? Never: we have seen what comes of parting. +Part? Why you have not heard half my story; no nor the tithe. +'Tis not for thy mere comfort I take thee to Gouda manse. Hear +me!"</p> + +<p>"I may not. Thy very voice is a temptation with its music, +memory's delight."</p> + +<p>"But I say you shall hear me, Gerard, for forth this place I +go not unheard."</p> + +<p>"Then must we part by other means," said Clement, sadly.</p> + +<p>"Alack! what other means? Wouldst put me to thine own door, +being the stronger?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, Margaret, well thou knowest I would suffer many deaths +rather than put force on thee; thy sweet body is dearer to me +than my own: but a million times dearer to me are our immortal +souls, both thine and mine. I have withstood this direst temptation +of all long enow. Now I must fly it: farewell! farewell!"</p> + +<p>He made to the door, and had actually opened it and got half out, +when she darted after and caught him by the arm.</p> + +<p>"Nay, then another must speak for me. I thought to reward +thee for yielding to me: but unkind that thou art, I need his help +I find; turn then this way one moment."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay."</p> + +<p>"But I say ay! And then turn thy back on us an thou canst." +She somewhat relaxed her grasp, thinking he would never deny +her so small a favour. But at this he saw his opportunity and +seized it.</p> + +<p>"Fly, Clement, fly!" he almost shrieked, and, his religious enthusiasm +giving him for a moment his old strength, he burst wildly +away from her, and after a few steps bounded over the little stream +and ran beside it, but finding he was not followed, stopped and +looked back.</p> + +<p>She was lying on her face, with her hands spread out.</p> + +<p>Yes, without meaning it, he had thrown her down and hurt her.</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 410px;"> +<img src="images/illus691.jpg" width="410" height="600" alt="HE SCANNED, WITH GREAT TEARFUL EYES, THIS STRANGE FIGURE THAT LOOKED SO WILD" title="" /> +<span class="caption">HE SCANNED, WITH GREAT TEARFUL EYES, THIS STRANGE FIGURE THAT LOOKED SO WILD</span> +</div> +<p>When he saw that, he groaned and turned back a step; but suddenly, +by another impulse, flung himself into the icy water instead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_652" id="Page_652">[652]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There, kill my body!" he cried, "but save my soul!"</p> + +<p>Whilst he stood there, up to his throat in liquid ice, so to speak, +Margaret uttered one long, piteous moan, and rose to her knees.</p> + +<p>He saw her as plain almost as in midday. Saw her face pale and +her eyes glistening; and then in the still night he heard these words:</p> + +<p>"Oh, God! thou that knowest all, thou seest how I am used. +Forgive me then! For I will not live another day." With this +she suddenly started to her feet, and flew like some wild creature, +wounded to death, close by his miserable hiding-place, shrieking: +"CRUEL!—CRUEL!—CRUEL!—CRUEL!"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>What manifold anguish may burst from a human heart in a +single syllable. There were wounded love, and wounded pride, and +despair, and coming madness, all in that piteous cry. Clement heard, +and it froze his heart with terror and remorse, worse than the icy +water chilled the marrow of his bones.</p> + +<p>He felt he had driven her from him for ever, and in the midst +of his dismal triumph, the greatest he had won, there came an +almost incontrollable impulse to curse the Church, to curse religion +itself, for exacting such savage cruelty from mortal man. At last +he crawled half dead out of the water, and staggered to his den. +"I am safe here," he groaned; "she will never come near me again; +unmanly, ungrateful wretch that I am." And he flung his emaciated, +frozen body down on the floor, not without a secret hope that +it might never rise thence alive.</p> + +<p>But presently he saw by the hour-glass that it was past midnight. +On this he rose slowly and took off his wet things, and +moaning all the time at the pain he had caused her he loved, +put on the old hermit's cilice of bristles, and over that his breastplate. +He had never worn either of these before, doubting himself +worthy to don the arms of that tried soldier. But now he must +give himself every aid: the bristles might distract his earthly remorse +by bodily pain, and there might be holy virtue in the breastplate.</p> + + + +<p>Then he kneeled down and prayed God humbly to release him that +very night from the burden of the flesh. Then he lighted all his +candles and recited his psalter doggedly: each word seemed to come +like a lump of lead from a leaden heart, and to fall leaden to the +ground; and in this mechanical office every now and then he moaned<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_653" id="Page_653">[653]</a></span> +with all his soul. In the midst of which he suddenly observed +a little bundle in the corner he had not seen before in the feebler +light, and at one end of it something like gold spun into +silk.</p> + +<p>He went to see what it could be; and he had no sooner viewed +it closer than he threw up his hands with rapture, "It is a seraph," +he whispered, "a lovely seraph. Heaven hath witnessed my bitter +trial, and approves my cruelty; and this flower of the skies is sent +to cheer me, fainting under my burden."</p> + +<p>He fell on his knees, and gazed with ecstasy on its golden hair, +and its tender skin and cheeks like a peach.</p> + +<p>"Let me feast my sad eyes on thee ere thou leavest me for thine +ever-blessed abode, and my cell darkens again at thy parting, as +it did at hers."</p> + +<p>With all this the hermit disturbed the lovely visitor. He opened +wide two eyes, the colour of heaven; and seeing a strange figure +kneeling over him, he cried piteously: "MUM—MA! MUM—MA!" +And the tears began to run down his little cheeks.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, after all, Clement, who for more than six months had +not looked on the human face divine, estimated childish beauty more +justly than we can; and in truth, this fair northern child, with its +long golden hair, was far more angelic than any of our imagined +angels. But now the spell was broken.</p> + +<p>Yet not unhappily. Clement, it may be remembered, was fond +of children, and true monastic life fosters this sentiment. The innocent +distress on the cherubic face, the tears that ran so smoothly +from those transparent violets, his eyes, and his pretty, dismal cry +for his only friend, his mother, went through the hermit's heart. +He employed all his gentleness and all his art to sooth him, and, as +the little soul was wonderfully intelligent for his age, presently +succeeded so far that he ceased to cry out, and wonder took the +place of fear, while in silence, broken only in little gulps, he scanned, +with great tearful eyes, this strange figure that looked so wild, but +spoke so kindly, and wore armour, yet did not kill little boys, but +coaxed them. Clement was equally perplexed to know how this +little human flower came to lie sparkling and blooming in his +gloomy cave. But he remembered he had left the door wide open, +and he was driven to conclude that, owing to this negligence, some +unfortunate creature of high or low degree had seized this opportunity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_654" id="Page_654">[654]</a></span> +to get rid of her child for ever.<a name="FNanchor_I_17" id="FNanchor_I_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_I_17" class="fnanchor">[I]</a> At this his bowels yearned +so over the poor deserted cherub that the tears of pure tenderness +stood in his eyes, and still, beneath the crime of the mother, he +saw the divine goodness, which had so directed her heartlessness as +to comfort his servant's breaking heart.</p> + +<p>"Now bless thee, bless thee, bless thee, sweet innocent, I would +not change thee for e'en a cherub in heaven."</p> + +<p>"At's pooty," replied the infant, ignoring contemptuously, after +the manner of infants, all remarks that did not interest him.</p> + +<p>"What is pretty here, my love, beside thee?"</p> + +<p>"Ookum-gars,"<a name="FNanchor_J_18" id="FNanchor_J_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_J_18" class="fnanchor">[J]</a> said the boy, pointing to the hermit's breastplate.</p> + +<p>"Quot liberi, tot sententiunculæ!" Hector's child screamed at his +father's glittering casque and nodding crest: and here was a mediæval +babe charmed with a polished cuirass, and his griefs assuaged.</p> + +<p>"There are prettier things here than that," said Clement, "there +are little birds; lovest thou birds?"</p> + +<p>"Nay. Ay. En um ittle, ery ittle? Not ike torks. Hate +torks; um bigger an baby."</p> + +<p>He then confided, in very broken language, that the storks, with +their great flapping wings, scared him, and were a great trouble +and worry to him, darkening his existence more or less.</p> + +<p>"Ay, but my birds are very little, and good, and oh, so +pretty!"</p> + +<p>"Den I ikes 'm," said the child, authoritatively. "I ont my +mammy."</p> + +<p>"Alas, sweet dove! I doubt I shall have to fill her place as best +I may. Hast thou no daddy as well as mammy, sweet one?"</p> + +<p>Now not only was this conversation from first to last, the relative +ages, situations, and all circumstances of the parties considered, +as strange a one as ever took place between two mortal creatures, but +at or within a second or two of the hermit's last question, to turn +the strange into the marvellous, came an unseen witness, to whom +every word that passed carried ten times the force it did to either +of the speakers.</p> + +<p>Since, therefore, it is with her eyes you must now see, and hear +with her ears, I go back a step for her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_655" id="Page_655">[655]</a></span></p><p>Margaret, when she ran past Gerard, was almost mad. She was +in that state of mind in which affectionate mothers have been known +to kill their children, sometimes along with themselves, sometimes +alone, which last is certainly maniacal. She ran to Reicht Heynes +pale and trembling, and clasped her round the neck. "Oh, Reicht! +oh, Reicht!" and could say no more. Reicht kissed her and began +to whimper; and, would you believe it, the great mastiff uttered +one long whine: even his glimmer of sense taught him grief was +afoot.</p> + +<p>"Oh, Reicht!" moaned the despised beauty, as soon as she could +utter a word for choking, "see how he has served me;" and she +showed her hands that were bleeding with falling on the stony +ground. "He threw me down, he was so eager to fly from me. +He took me for a devil; he said I came to tempt him. Am I the +woman to tempt a man? you know me, Reicht."</p> + +<p>"Nay, in sooth, sweet Mistress Margaret, the last i' the world."</p> + +<p>"And he would not look at my child. I'll fling myself and him +into the Rotter this night."</p> + +<p>"Oh fie, fie! eh, my sweet woman, speak not so. Is any man +that breathes worth your child's life?"</p> + +<p>"My child! where is he? Why, Reicht, I have left him behind. +Oh shame! is it possible I can love him to that degree as to forget +my child? Ah! I am rightly served for it."</p> + +<p>And she sat down, and faithful Reicht beside her, and they +sobbed in one another's arms.</p> + +<p>After a while Margaret left off sobbing and said, doggedly, "Let +us go home."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but the bairn?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! he is well where he is. My heart is turned against my +very child. <i>He</i> cares nought for him; wouldn't see him, nor hear +speak of him; and I took him there so proud, and made his hair +so nice I did, and put his new frock and cowl on him. Nay, turn +about: it's his child as well as mine; let him keep it awhile: mayhap +that will learn him to think more of its mother and his own."</p> + +<p>"High words off an empty stomach," said Reicht.</p> + +<p>"Time will show. Come thou home."</p> + +<p>They departed, and Time did show quicker than he levels abbeys, +for at the second step Margaret stopped, and could neither go +one way nor the other, but stood stock still.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_656" id="Page_656">[656]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Reicht," said she, piteously, "what else have I on earth? I +cannot."</p> + +<p>"Who ever said you could? Think you I paid attention? Words +are woman's breath. Come back for him without more ado; 'tis +time we were in our beds, much more he."</p> + +<p>Reicht led the way, and Margaret followed readily enough in +that direction; but as they drew near the cell she stopped again.</p> + +<p>"Reicht, go you and ask him will he give me back my boy; +for I could not bear the sight of him."</p> + +<p>"Alas! mistress, this do seem a sorry ending after all that hath +been betwixt you twain. Bethink thee now, doth thine heart whisper +no excuse for him? dost verily hate him for whom thou hast +waited so long? Oh weary world!"</p> + +<p>"Hate him, Reicht? I would not harm a hair of his head for +all that is in nature; but look on him I cannot; I have taken a +horror of him. Oh! when I think of all I have suffered for him, +and what I came here this night to do for him, and brought my own +darling to kiss him and call him father. Ah; Luke, my poor chap, +my wound showeth me thine. I have thought too little of thy +pangs, whose true affection I despised: and now my own is despised. +Reicht, if the poor lad was here now, he would have a good chance."</p> + +<p>"Well, he is not far off," said Reicht Heynes, but somehow she +did not say it with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"Speak not to me of any man," said Margaret, bitterly, "I hate +them all."</p> + +<p>"For the sake of one?"</p> + +<p>"Flout me not, but prithee go forward and get me what <i>is</i> my +own, my sole joy in the world. Thou knowest I am on thorns till +I have him to my bosom again."</p> + +<p>Reicht went forward; Margaret sat by the roadside and covered +her face with her apron, and rocked herself after the manner of her +country, for her soul was full of bitterness and grief. So severe, +indeed, was the internal conflict, that she did not hear Reicht running +back to her, and started violently when the young woman laid +a hand upon her shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Mistress Margaret!" said Reicht, quietly, "take a fool's advice +that loves ye. Go softly to yon cave wi' all the ears and eyes your +mother ever gave you."</p> + +<p>"Why?—what,—Reicht?" stammered Margaret.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_657" id="Page_657">[657]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I thought the cave was afire, 'twas so light inside; and there +were voices."</p> + +<p>"Voices?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, not one, but twain, and all unlike—a man's and a little +child's, talking as pleasant as you and me. I am no great hand +at a keyhole for my part, 'tis paltry work; but if so be voices were +talking in yon cave, and them that owned those voices were so +near to me as those are to thee, I'd go on all fours like a fox, +and I'd crawl on my belly like a serpent, ere I'd lose one word +that passes <i>atwixt those twain</i>."</p> + +<p>"Whisht, Reicht! Bless thee! Bide thou here. Buss me! Pray +for me!"</p> + +<p>And almost ere the agitated words had left her lips Margaret was +flying towards the hermitage as noiselessly as a lapwing. Arrived +near it, she crouched, and there was something truly serpentine in +the gliding, flexible, noiseless movements by which she reached the +very door, and there she found a chink and listened. And often +it cost her a struggle not to burst in upon them, but warned by +defeat, she was cautious and resolute to let well alone. And after +a while slowly and noiselessly she reared her head, like a snake +its crest, to where she saw the broadest chink of all, and looked with +all her eyes and soul, as well as listened.</p> + +<p>The little boy then being asked whether he had no daddy, at first +shook his head, and would say nothing; but being pressed, he suddenly +seemed to remember something, and said he, "Dad—da ill +man; run away and leave poor mum—ma."</p> + +<p>She who heard this winced. It was as new to her as to Clement. +Some interfering foolish woman had gone and said this to the boy, +and now out it came in Gerard's very face. His answer surprised +her; he burst out, "The villain! the monster! he must be born without +bowels to desert thee, sweet one. Ah! he little knows the joy +he hath turned his back on. Well, my little dove, I must be father +and mother to thee, since the one runs away, and t'other abandons +thee to my care. Now to-morrow I shall ask the good people, that +bring me my food, to fetch some nice eggs and milk for thee as +well; for bread is good enough for poor old good-for-nothing me, +but not for thee. And I shall teach thee to read."</p> + +<p>"I can yead, I can yead."</p> + +<p>"Ay verily, so young? all the better; we will read good books<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_658" id="Page_658">[658]</a></span> +together, and I shall show thee the way to heaven. Heaven is a +beautiful place, a thousand times fairer and better than earth, and +there be little cherubs like thyself, in white, glad to welcome thee +and love thee. Wouldst like to go to heaven one day?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, along wi'—my—mammy."</p> + +<p>"What, not without her then?"</p> + +<p>"Nay. I ont my mammy. Where is my mammy?"</p> + +<p>(Oh! what it cost poor Margaret not to burst in and clasp him to +her heart!)</p> + +<p>"Well, fret not, sweetheart, mayhap she will come when thou art +asleep. Wilt thou be good now and sleep?"</p> + +<p>"I not eepy. Ikes to talk."</p> + +<p>"Well, talk we then; tell me thy pretty name."</p> + +<p>"Baby." And he opened his eyes with amazement at this great +hulking creature's ignorance.</p> + +<p>"Hast none other?"</p> + +<p>"Nay."</p> + +<p>"What shall I do to pleasure thee, baby? Shall I tell thee a +story?"</p> + +<p>"I ikes tories," said the boy, clapping his hands.</p> + +<p>"Or sing thee a song?"</p> + +<p>"I ikes tongs," and he became excited.</p> + +<p>"Choose then, a song or a story."</p> + +<p>"Ting I a tong. Nay, tell I a tory. Nay, ting I a tong. +Nay—." And the corners of his little mouth turned down and he +had half a mind to weep because he could not have both, and could +not tell which to forego. Suddenly his little face cleared, "Ting I +a tory," said he.</p> + +<p>"Sing thee a story, baby? Well, after all, why not? And wilt +thou sit o' my knee and hear it?"</p> + +<p>"Yea."</p> + +<p>"Then I must 'een doff this breastplate. 'Tis too hard for thy +soft cheek. So. And now I must doff this bristly cilice; they +would prick thy tender skin, perhaps make it bleed, as they have +me, I see. So. And now I put on my best pelisse, in honour of +thy worshipful visit. See how soft and warm it is; bless the good +soul that sent it; and now I sit me down; so. And I take thee on +my left knee, and put my arm under thy little head; so. And +then the psaltery, and play a little tune; so, not too loud."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_659" id="Page_659">[659]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I ikes dat."</p> + +<p>"I am right glad on't. Now list the story."</p> + +<p>He chanted a child's story in a sort of recitative, singing a little +moral refrain now and then. The boy listened with rapture.</p> + +<p>"I ikes oo," said he. "Ot is oo? is oo a man?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, little heart, and a great sinner to boot."</p> + +<p>"I ikes great tingers. Ting one other tory."</p> + +<p>Story No. 2 was chanted.</p> + +<p>"I ubbs oo," cried the child, impetuously. "Ot caft<a name="FNanchor_K_19" id="FNanchor_K_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_K_19" class="fnanchor">[K]</a> is oo?"</p> + +<p>"I am a hermit, love."</p> + +<p>"I ubbs vermins. Ting other one."</p> + +<p>But during this final performance, Nature suddenly held out +her leaden sceptre over the youthful eyelids. "I is not eepy," +whined he very faintly, and succumbed.</p> + +<p>Clement laid down his psaltery softly and began to rock his new +treasure in his arms, and to crone over him a little lullaby well +known in Tergou, with which his own mother had often set him off.</p> + +<p>And the child sank into a profound sleep upon his arm. And +he stopped crooning, and gazed on him with infinite tenderness, yet +sadness; for, at that moment he could not help thinking what might +have been but for a piece of paper with a lie in it.</p> + +<p>He sighed deeply.</p> + +<p>The next moment the moonlight burst into his cell, and with it, +and in it, and almost as swift as it, Margaret Brandt was down at +his knee with a timorous hand upon his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"GERARD, YOU DO NOT REJECT US. YOU CANNOT."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XCVII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>THE startled hermit glared from his nursling to Margaret, +and from her to him, in amazement, equalled only by his +agitation at her so unexpected return. The child lay +asleep on his left arm, and she was at his right knee; no longer the +pale, scared, panting girl he had overpowered so easily an hour +or two ago, but an imperial beauty, with blushing cheeks and +sparkling eyes, and lips sweetly parted in triumph, and her whole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_660" id="Page_660">[660]</a></span> +face radiant with a look he could not quite read; for he had +never yet seen it on her; maternal pride.</div> + +<p>He stared and stared from the child to her, in throbbing amazement.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Us?" he gasped at last. And still his wonder-stricken eyes +turned to and fro.</p> + +<p>Margaret was surprised in her turn. It was an age of impressions +not facts. "What!" she cried, "doth not a father know +his own child? and a man of God, too? Fie, Gerard, to pretend! +nay, thou art too wise, too good, not to have—why I watched thee: +and e'en now look at you twain! 'Tis thine own flesh and blood +thou holdest to thine heart."</p> + +<p>Clement trembled. "What words are these," he stammered, +"this angel mine?"</p> + +<p>"Whose else? since he is mine."</p> + +<p>Clement turned on the sleeping child, with a look beyond the power +of the pen to describe, and trembled all over, as his eyes seemed to +absorb the little love.</p> + +<p>Margaret's eyes followed his. "He is not a bit like me," said +she, proudly; "but oh at whiles he is thy very image in little; and +see this golden hair. Thine was the very colour at his age; ask +mother else. And see this mole on his little finger; now look at +thine own; there! 'Twas thy mother let me weet thou wast marked +so before him; and oh, Gerard, 'twas this our child found thee for +me; for by that little mark on thy finger I knew thee for his father, +when I watched above thy window and saw thee feed the birds;" +here she seized the child's hand and kissed it eagerly, and got +half of it into her mouth, heaven knows how. "Ah! bless thee, +thou didst find thy poor daddy for her, and now thou hast made +us friends again after our little quarrel; the first, the last. Wast +very cruel to me but now, my poor Gerard, and I forgive thee; for +loving of thy child."</p> + +<p>"Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah!" sobbed Clement, choking.</p> + +<p>And lowered by fasts, and unnerved by solitude, the once strong +man was hysterical, and nearly fainting.</p> + +<p>Margaret was alarmed, but, having experience, her pity was +greater than her fear. "Nay, take not on so," she murmured soothingly, +and put a gentle hand upon his brow. "Be brave! So, so.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_661" id="Page_661">[661]</a></span> +Dear heart, thou art not the first man, that hath gone abroad, and +come back richer by a lovely little self, than he went forth. Being +a man of God take courage, and say He sends thee this to comfort +thee for what thou hast lost in me; and that is not so very much, +my lamb; for sure the better part of love shall ne'er cool here to +thee, though it may in thine, and ought, being a priest, and parson of +Gouda."</p> + +<p>"I? priest of Gouda? Never!" murmured Clement, in a faint +voice, "I am a friar of St. Dominic: yet speak on sweet music, +tell me all that has happened thee, before we are parted again."</p> + +<p>Now some would on this have exclaimed against parting at all, +and raised the true question in dispute. But such women as Margaret +do not repeat their mistakes. It is very hard to defeat them +<i>twice</i>, where their hearts are set on a thing.</p> + +<p>She assented, and turned her back on Gouda manse as a thing +not to be recurred to; and she told him her tale, dwelling above +all on the kindness to her of his parents; and, while she related her +troubles, his hand stole to hers, and often she felt him wince and +tremble with ire, and often press her hand, sympathizing with her +in every vein.</p> + +<p>"Oh, piteous tale of a true heart battling alone against such bitter +odds," said he.</p> + +<p>"It all seems small, when I see thee here again, and nursing my +boy. We have had a warning, Gerard. True friends like you and +me are rare, and they are mad to part, ere death divideth them."</p> + +<p>"And that is true," said Clement, off his guard.</p> + +<p>And then she would have him tell her what he had suffered for +her, and he begged her to excuse him, and she consented; but by +questions quietly revoked her consent and elicited it all; and many +a sigh she heaved for him, and more than once she hid her face in +her hands with terror at his perils, though past.</p> + +<p>And to console him for all he had gone through, she kneeled down +and put her arms under the little boy, and lifted him gently up. +"Kiss him softly," she whispered. "Again, again! kiss thy fill if +thou canst; he is sound. 'Tis all I can do to comfort thee till thou +art out of this foul den and in thy sweet manse yonder."</p> + +<p>Clement shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Well," said she, "let that pass. Know that I have been sore +affronted for want of my lines."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_662" id="Page_662">[662]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who hath dared affront thee?"</p> + +<p>"No matter, those that will do it again if thou hast lost them, +which the saints forbid."</p> + +<p>"I lose them? nay, there they lie, close to thy hand."</p> + +<p>"Where, where, oh where?"</p> + +<p>Clement hung his head. "Look in the Vulgate. Heaven forgive +me: I thought thou wert dead, and a saint in heaven."</p> + +<p>She looked, and on the blank leaves of the poor soul's Vulgate +she found her marriage lines.</p> + +<p>"Thank God!" she cried, "thank God! Oh, bless thee, Gerard, +bless thee! Why what is here, Gerard?"</p> + +<p>On the other leaves were pinned every scrap of paper she had +ever sent him, and their two names she had once written together +in sport, and the lock of her hair she had given him, and half a +silver coin she had broken with him, and a straw she had sucked her +soup with the first day he ever saw her.</p> + +<p>When Margaret saw these proofs of love and signs of a gentle +heart bereaved, even her exultation at getting back her marriage +lines was overpowered by gushing tenderness. She almost staggered, +and her hand went to her bosom, and she leaned her brow against +the stone cell and wept so silently that he did not see she was +weeping; indeed she would not let him, for she felt that to befriend +him now she must be the stronger; and emotion weakens.</p> + +<p>"Gerard," said she, "I know you are wise and good. You must +have a reason for what you are doing, let it seem ever so unreasonable. +Talk we like old friends. Why are you buried alive?"</p> + +<p>"Margaret, to escape temptation. My impious ire against those +two had its root in the heart; that heart then I must deaden, and, +Dei gratiâ, I shall. Shall I, a servant of Christ and of the Church, +court temptation? Shall I pray daily to be led out on't, and walk +into it with open eyes?"</p> + +<p>"That is good sense any way," said Margaret, with a consummate +affection of candour.</p> + +<p>"'Tis unanswerable," said Clement, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"We shall see. Tell me, have you escaped temptation here? +Why I ask is, when <i>I</i> am alone, my thoughts are far more wild +and foolish than in company. Nay, speak sooth; come!"</p> + +<p>"I must needs own I have been worse tempted here with evil +imaginations than in the world."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_663" id="Page_663">[663]</a></span></p> + +<p>"There now."</p> + +<p>"Ay, but so were Anthony, and Jerome, Macarius, and Hilarion, +Benedict, Bernard, and all the saints. 'Twill wear off."</p> + +<p>"How do you know?"</p> + +<p>"I feel sure it will."</p> + +<p>"Guessing against knowledge. Here 'tis men folk are sillier than +us that be but women. Wise in their own conceits, they will not let +themselves see; their stomachs are too high to be taught by their +eyes. A woman, if she went into a hole in a bank to escape temptation, +and there found it, would just lift her farthingale and out +on't, and not e'en know how wise she was, till she watched a man in +like plight."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I grant humility and a teachable spirit are the roads to +wisdom; but, when all is said, here I wrestle but with imagination. +At Gouda she I love as no priest or monk must love any but the +angels, she will tempt a weak soul, unwilling, yet not loth, to be +tempted."</p> + +<p>"Aye that is another matter; <i>I</i> should tempt thee then? to what, +i' God's name?"</p> + +<p>"Who knows? The flesh is weak."</p> + +<p>"Speak for yourself, my lad. Why you are thinking of some +other Margaret, not Margaret à Peter. Was ever my mind turned +to folly and frailty? Stay, is it because you were my husband +once, as these lines avouch? Think you the road to folly is beaten +for you more than for another? Oh! how shallow are the wise, +and how little able are you to read me, who can read you so well +from top to toe. Come, learn thy A B C. Were a stranger to +proffer me unchaste love, I should shrink a bit, no doubt, and feel +sore, but I should defend myself without making a coil; for men, +I know, are so, the best of them sometimes. But if you, that have +been my husband, and are my child's father, were to offer to +humble me so in mine own eyes, and thine, and his, either I should +spit in thy face, Gerard, or, as I am not a downright vulgar woman, +I should snatch the first weapon at hand and strike thee dead."</p> + +<p>And Margaret's eyes flashed fire, and her nostrils expanded, that +it was glorious to see; and no one that did see her could doubt +her sincerity.</p> + +<p>"I had not the sense to see that," said Gerard, quietly. And +he pondered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_664" id="Page_664">[664]</a></span></p> + +<p>Margaret eyed him in silence, and soon recovered her composure.</p> + +<p>"Let not you and I dispute," said she, gently; "speak we of +other things. Ask me of thy folk."</p> + +<p>"My father?"</p> + +<p>"Well, and warms to thee and me. Poor soul, a drew glaive on +those twain that day, but Jorian Ketel and I we mastered him, and +he drove them forth his house for ever."</p> + +<p>"That may not be; he must take them back."</p> + +<p>"That he will never do for us. You know the man; he is dour +as iron: yet would he do it for one word from one that will not +speak it."</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"The vicar of Gouda. The old man will be at the manse to-morrow, +I hear."</p> + +<p>"How you come back to that."</p> + +<p>"Forgive me: I am but a woman. It is us for nagging; shouldst +keep me from it wi' questioning of me."</p> + +<p>"My sister Kate?"</p> + +<p>"Alas!"</p> + +<p>"What hath ill befallen e'en that sweet lily? Out and alas!"</p> + +<p>"Be calm, sweetheart, no harm hath her befallen. Oh, nay, nay, +far fro' that." Then Margaret forced herself to be composed, and +in a low sweet, gentle voice she murmured to him thus: "My +poor Gerard, Kate hath left her trouble behind her. For the manner +on't, 'twas like the rest. Ah; such as she saw never thirty, nor +ever shall while earth shall last. She smiled in pain too. A well, +then, thus 'twas; she was took wi' a languor and a loss of all her +pains."</p> + +<p>"A loss of her pains? I understand you not."</p> + +<p>"Ay, you are not experienced; indeed, e'en thy mother almost +blinded herself, and said, ''tis maybe a change for the better.' +But Joan Ketel, which is an understanding woman, she looked +at her and said, 'Down sun, down wind!' And the gossips sided +and said, 'Be brave, you that are her mother, for she is half way +to the saints.' And thy mother wept sore, but Kate would not let +her; and one very ancient woman, she said to thy mother, 'She +will die as easy as she lived hard.' And she lay painless best +part of three days, a sipping of heaven aforehand. And, my dear, +when she was just parting, she asked for 'Gerard's little boy,'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_665" id="Page_665">[665]</a></span> +and I brought him and set him on the bed, and the little thing +behaved as peaceably as he does now. But by this time she was +past speaking: but she pointed to a drawer, and her mother knew +what to look for: it was two gold angels thou hadst given her years +ago. Poor soul! she had kept them till thou shouldst come home. +And she nodded towards the little boy, and looked anxious: but +we understood her, and put the pieces in his two hands, and, when his +little fingers closed on them, she smiled content. And so she gave +her little earthly treasures to her favourite's child—for you <i>were</i> +her favourite—and her immortal jewel to God, and passed so sweetly +we none of us knew justly when she left us. Well-a-day, well-a-day!"</p> + +<p>Gerard wept.</p> + +<p>"She hath not left her like on earth," he sobbed. "Oh how the +affections of earth curl softly round my heart! I cannot help it: +God made them after all. Speak on, sweet Margaret; at thy voice +the past rolls its tides back upon me; the loves and the hopes of +youth come fair and gliding into my dark cell, and darker bosom, +on waves of memory and music."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"Gerard, I am loth to grieve you, but Kate cried a little when +she first took ill, at you not being there to close her eyes."</p> + +<p>Gerard sighed.</p> + +<p>"You were within a league, but hid your face from her."</p> + +<p>He groaned.</p> + +<p>"There, forgive me for nagging; I am but a woman: you would +not have been so cruel to your own flesh and blood knowingly, +would you?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, no."</p> + +<p>"Well then, know that thy brother Sybrandt lies in my charge +with a broken back, fruit of thy curse."</p> + +<p>"Mea culpa! mea culpa!"</p> + +<p>"He is very penitent; be yourself and forgive him this night!"</p> + +<p>"I have forgiven him long ago."</p> + +<p>"Think you he can believe that from any mouth but yours? +Come! he is but about two butts' length hence."</p> + +<p>"So near? Why where?"</p> + +<p>"At Gouda manse. I took him there yestreen. For I know you, +the curse was scarce cold on your lips when you repented it"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_666" id="Page_666">[666]</a></span> +(Gerard nodded assent), "and I said to myself, Gerard will thank me +for taking Sybrandt to die under his roof; he will not beat his +breast and cry mea culpa, yet grudge three footsteps to quiet a +withered brother on his last bed. He may have a bee in his bonnet, +but he is not a hypocrite, a thing all pious words and uncharitable +deeds."</p> + +<p>Gerard literally staggered where he sat at this tremendous thrust.</p> + +<p>"Forgive me for nagging," said she. "Thy mother too is waiting +for thee. Is it well done to keep her on thorns so long? She +will not sleep this night. Bethink thee, Gerard, she is all to thee +that I am to this sweet child. Ah, I think so much more of +mothers since I had my little Gerard. She suffered for thee, and +nursed thee, and tended thee from boy to man. Priest, monk, +hermit, call thyself what thou wilt, to her thou art but one thing; +her child."</p> + +<p>"Where is she?" murmured Gerard, in a quavering voice.</p> + +<p>"At Gouda manse, wearing the night in prayer and care."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Then Margaret saw the time was come for that appeal to his +reason she had purposely reserved till persuasion should have paved +the way for conviction. So the smith first softens the iron by +fire; and then brings down the sledge hammer.</p> + +<p>She showed him, but in her own good straightforward Dutch, +that his present life was only a higher kind of selfishness; spiritual +egotism. Whereas a priest had no more right to care only for his +own soul than only for his own body. That was not <i>his</i> path to +heaven. "But," said she, "whoever yet lost his soul by saving the +souls of others? the Almighty loves him who thinks of others, and +when He shall see thee caring for the souls of the folk the duke +hath put into thine hand, He will care ten times more for thy soul +than He does now."</p> + +<p>Gerard was struck by this remark. "Art shrewd in dispute," +said he.</p> + +<p>"Far from it," was the reply, "only my eyes are not bandaged +with conceit.<a name="FNanchor_L_20" id="FNanchor_L_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_L_20" class="fnanchor">[L]</a> So long as Satan walks the whole earth, tempting +men, and so long as the sons of Belial do never lock themselves +in caves, but run like ants, to and fro, corrupting others, the good +man that skulks apart, plays the devil's game, or at least gives +him the odds: thou a soldier of Christ? ask thy comrade Denys, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_667" id="Page_667">[667]</a></span>who is but a soldier of the duke, ask him if ever he skulked in a +hole and shunned the battle because forsooth in battle is danger +as well as glory and duty. For thy sole excuse is fear; thou makest +no secret on't. Go to; no duke nor king hath such cowardly soldiers +as Christ hath. What was that you said in the church at Rotterdam +about the man in the parable, that buried his talent in the +earth and so offended the giver? Thy wonderful gift for preaching, +is it not a talent, and a gift from thy creator?"</p> + +<p>"Certes; such as it is."</p> + +<p>"And hast thou laid it out? or buried it? To whom hast thou +preached these seven months? to bats and owls? Hast buried it +in one hole with thyself and thy once good wits.</p> + +<p>"The Dominicans are the friars Preachers. 'Tis for preaching +they were founded; so thou art false to Dominic as well as to +his master.</p> + +<p>"Do you remember, Gerard, when we were young together, which +now are old before our time, as we walked handed in the fields, +did you but see a sheep cast, ay three fields off, you would leave +your sweetheart (by her good will), and run and lift the sheep for +charity? Well then, at Gouda is not one sheep in evil plight, but +a whole flock; some cast, some strayed, some sick, some tainted, +some a being devoured, and all for the want of a shepherd. Where +is their shepherd? lurking in a den like a wolf; a den in his own +parish, out fie! out fie!</p> + +<p>"I scented thee out, in part, by thy kindness to the little birds. +Take note, you Gerard Eliassoen must love something, 'tis in your +blood; you were born to't. Shunning man you do but seek earthly +affection a peg lower than man."</p> + +<p>Gerard interrupted her. "The birds are God's creatures, his +innocent creatures, and I do well to love them, being God's creatures."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>"What, are they creatures of the same God that we are, that he +is who lies upon thy knee?"</p> + +<p>"You know they are."</p> + +<p>"Then what pretence for shunning us and being kind to them? +Sith man is one of the animals, why pick him out to shun? Is't +because he is of animals the paragon? What, you court the young +of birds, and abandon your own young? Birds need but bodily +food, and, having wings, deserve scant pity if they cannot fly and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_668" id="Page_668">[668]</a></span> +find it. But that sweet dove upon thy knee, he needeth not carnal +only, but spiritual food. He is thine as well as mine: and I have +done my share. He will soon be too much for me, and I look to +Gouda's parson to teach him true piety and useful lore. Is he +not of more value than many sparrows?"</p> + +<p>Gerard started and stammered an affirmation. For she waited +for his reply.</p> + +<p>"You wonder," continued she, "to hear me quote holy writ so +glib. I have pored over it this four years, and why? Not because +God wrote it, but because I saw it often in thy hands ere thou didst +leave me. Heaven forgive me; I am but a woman. What thinkest +thou of this sentence? 'Let your work so shine before men that they +may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in +heaven!' What is a saint in a sink better than 'a light under a +bushel'?</p> + +<p>"Therefore, since the sheep committed to thy charge bleat for thee +and cry: 'Oh desert us no longer, but come to Gouda manse;' since +I, who know thee ten times better than thou knowest thyself, do pledge +my soul it is for thy soul's weal to go to Gouda manse,—since duty +to thy child, too long abandoned, call thee to Gouda Manse,—since +thy sovereign, whom holy writ again bids thee honour, sends thee to +Gouda manse,—since the Pope, whom the Church teaches thee to +revere, hath absolved thee of thy monkish vows, and orders thee to +Gouda manse—"</p> + +<p>"Ah?"</p> + +<p>"Since thy grey-haired mother watches for thee in dole and care, +and turneth oft the hour-glass and sigheth sore that thou comest so +slow to her at Gouda manse,—since thy brother, withered by thy +curse, awaits thy forgiveness and thy prayers for his soul, now lingering +in his body, at Gouda manse,—take thou up in thine arms the +sweet bird wi' crest of gold that nestles to thy bosom, and give me thy +hand; thy sweetheart erst and wife, and now thy friend, the truest +friend to thee this night that ere man had; and come with me to +Gouda manse!"</p> + +<p>"IT IS THE VOICE OF AN ANGEL!" cried Clement loudly.</p> + +<p>"Then hearken it, and come forth to Gouda manse!"</p> + +<p>The battle was won.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Margaret lingered behind, cast her eye rapidly round the furniture,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_669" id="Page_669">[669]</a></span> +and selected the Vulgate and the psaltery. The rest she sighed at, and +let it lie. The breastplate and the cilice of bristles she took and +dashed with feeble ferocity on the floor. Then, seeing Gerard watch +her with surprise from the outside, she coloured and said: "I am +but a woman: 'little' will still be 'spiteful.'"</p> + +<p>"Why encumber thyself with those? They are safe."</p> + +<p>"Oh, she had a reason."</p> + +<p>And with this they took the road to Gouda parsonage. The moon +and stars were so bright, it seemed almost as light as day.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Gerard stopped. "My poor little birds!"</p> + +<p>"What of them?"</p> + +<p>"They will miss their food. I feed them every day."</p> + +<p>"The child hath a piece of bread in his cowl. Take that and feed +them now, against the morn."</p> + +<p>"I will. Nay, I will not. He is as innocent, and nearer to me +and to thee."</p> + +<p>Margaret drew a long breath. "'Tis well. Hadst taken it, I +might have hated thee; I am but a woman."</p> + +<p>When they had gone about a quarter of a mile, Gerard sighed. +"Margaret," said he, "I must e'en rest; he is too heavy for me."</p> + +<p>"Then give him me, and take thou these. Alas! alas! I mind +when thou wouldst have run with the child on one shoulder, and the +mother on t'other."</p> + +<p>And Margaret carried the boy.</p> + +<p>"I trow," said Gerard, looking down, "overmuch fasting is not +good for a man."</p> + +<p>"A many die of it each year, winter time," replied Margaret.</p> + +<p>Gerard pondered these simple words, and eyed her askant, carrying +the child with perfect ease. When they had gone nearly a mile, +he said, with considerable surprise: "You thought it was but two +butts' length."</p> + +<p>"Not I."</p> + +<p>"Why, you said so."</p> + +<p>"That is another matter." She then turned on him the face of a +Madonna. "I lied," said she, sweetly. "And to save your soul +and body, I'd maybe tell a worse lie than that, at need. I am but a +woman. Ah, well, it is but two butts' length from here at any rate."</p> + +<p>"Without a lie?"</p> + +<p>"Humph? Three, without a lie."</p> + +<p>And sure enough, in a few minutes they came up to the manse.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_670" id="Page_670">[670]</a></span></p> + +<p>A candle was burning in the vicar's parlour. "She is waking +still," whispered Margaret.</p> + +<p>"Beautiful! beautiful!" said Clement, and stopped to look at it.</p> + +<p>"What, in Heaven's name?"</p> + +<p>"That little candle, seen through the window at night. Look an it +be not like some fair star of size prodigious: it delighteth the eyes and +warmeth the heart of those outside."</p> + +<p>"Come, and I'll show thee something better," said Margaret, and +led him on tiptoe to the window.</p> + +<p>They looked in, and there was Catherine kneeling on the hassock, +with her "hours" before her.</p> + +<p>"Folk can pray out of a cave," whispered Margaret. "Ay and +hit heaven with their prayers. For 'tis for a sight of thee she +prayeth; and thou art here. Now, Gerard, be prepared; she is not +the woman you knew her; her children's troubles have greatly broken +the brisk, light-hearted soul. And I see she has been weeping e'en +now; she will have given thee up, being so late."</p> + +<p>"Let me get to her," said Clement hastily, trembling all over.</p> + +<p>"That door! I will bide here."</p> + +<p>When Gerard was gone to the door, Margaret, fearing the sudden +surprise, gave one sharp tap at the window, and cried, "Mother!" in +a loud, expressive voice that Catherine read at once. She clasped her +hands together and had half risen from her kneeling posture, when +the door burst open and Clement flung himself wildly on his knees at +her knees, with his arms out to embrace her. She uttered a cry +such as only a mother could. "Ah! my darling, my darling!" And +clung sobbing round his neck. And true it was, she saw neither a +hermit, a priest, nor a monk, but just her child, lost, and despaired +of, and in her arms. And after a little while Margaret came in, +with wet eyes and cheeks, and a holy calm of affection settled by degrees +on these sore troubled ones. And they sat all three together, +hand in hand, murmuring sweet and loving converse; and he who +sat in the middle, drank right and left their true affection and their +humble but genuine wisdom, and was forced to eat a good nourishing +meal, and at daybreak was packed off to a snowy bed, and by-and-by +awoke, as from a hideous dream, friar and hermit no more, Clement +no more, but Gerard Eliassoen, parson of Gouda.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_671" id="Page_671">[671]</a></span></p> +<h2>CHAPTER XCVIII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>MARGARET went back to Rotterdam long ere Gerard +awoke, and actually left her boy behind her. She sent +the faithful, sturdy Reicht off to Gouda directly with +a vicar's grey frock and large felt hat, and with minute instructions +how to govern her new master.</div> + +<p>Then she went to Jorian Ketel; for she said to herself, "he is the +closest I ever met, so he is the man for me," and in concert with +him she did two mortal sly things; yet not, in my opinion, virulent, +though she thought they were; but if I am asked what were these +deeds without a name, the answer is, that as she, who was "but a +woman," kept them secret till her dying day, I, who am a man,—Verbum +non amplius addam.</p> + +<p>She kept away from Gouda parsonage.</p> + +<p>Things that pass little noticed in the heat of argument, sometimes +rankle afterwards; and, when she came to go over all that had +passed, she was offended at Gerard's thinking she could ever forget +the priest in the sometime lover. "For what did he take me?" +said she. And this raised a great shyness which really she would not +otherwise have felt, being downright innocent. And pride sided +with modesty, and whispered "Go no more to Gouda parsonage."</p> + +<p>She left little Gerard there to complete the conquest her maternal +heart ascribed to him, not to her own eloquence and sagacity; +and to anchor his father for ever to humanity.</p> + +<p>But this generous stroke of policy cost her heart dear. She had +never yet been parted from her boy an hour; and she felt sadly +strange as well as desolate without him. After the first day it became +intolerable; and what does the poor soul do, but creep at dark +up to Gouda parsonage, and lurk about the premises like a thief till +she saw Reicht Heynes in the kitchen alone. Then she tapped +softly at the window and said, "Reicht, for pity's sake bring him +out to me unbeknown." With Margaret the person who occupied +her thoughts at the time ceased to have a name, and sank to a +pronoun.</p> + +<p>Reicht soon found an excuse for taking little Gerard out, and +there was a scene of mutual rapture; followed by mutual tears +when mother and boy parted again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_672" id="Page_672">[672]</a></span></p> + +<p>And it was arranged that Reicht should take him half way to +Rotterdam every day, at a set hour, and Margaret meet them. +And at these meetings, after the raptures, and after mother and +child had gambolled together like a young cat and her first kitten, +the boy would sometimes amuse himself alone at their feet, and +the two women generally seized this opportunity to talk very seriously +about Luke Peterson. This began thus:</p> + +<p>"Reicht," said Margaret, "I as good as promised him to marry +Luke Peterson. 'Say you the word,' quoth I, 'and I'll wed him.'"</p> + +<p>"Poor Luke!"</p> + +<p>"Prithee, why poor Luke?"</p> + +<p>"To be bandied about so, atwixt yea and nay."</p> + +<p>"Why, Reicht, you have not ever been so simple as to cast an +eye of affection on the boy, that you take his part?"</p> + +<p>"Me?" said Reicht, with a toss of the head.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I ask your pardon. Well, then, you can do me a good +turn."</p> + +<p>"Whist! whisper! that little darling is listening to every word, +and eyes like saucers."</p> + +<p>On this both their heads would have gone under one cap.</p> + +<p>Two women plotting against one boy? Oh you great cowardly +serpents!</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>But when these stolen meetings had gone on about five days +Margaret began to feel the injustice of it, and to be irritated as well +as unhappy.</p> + +<p>And she was crying about it, when a cart came to her door, +and in it, clean as a new penny, his beard close shaved, his bands +white as snow, and a little colour in his pale face, sat the vicar of +Gouda in the grey frock and large felt hat she had sent him.</p> + +<p>She ran upstairs directly and washed away all traces of her +tears and put on a cap, which, being just taken out of the drawer, +was cleaner, theoretically, than the one she had on; and came +down to him.</p> + +<p>He seized both her hands and kissed them, and a tear fell upon +them. She turned her head away at that to hide her own which +started.</p> + +<p>"My sweet Margaret," he cried, "why is this? Why hold you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_673" id="Page_673">[673]</a></span> +aloof from your own good deed? we have been waiting and waiting +for you every day, and no Margaret."</p> + +<p>"You said things."</p> + +<p>"What! when I was a hermit; and a donkey."</p> + +<p>"Ay! no matter, you said things. And you had no reason."</p> + +<p>"Forget all I said there. Who hearkens the ravings of a maniac? +for I see now that in a few months more I should have been a gibbering +idiot: Yet no mortal could have persuaded me away but you. +Oh what an outlay of wit and goodness was yours! But it is not +here I can thank and bless you as I ought; no, it is in the home you +have given me, among the sheep whose shepherd you have made me; +already I love them dearly; there it is I must thank 'the truest +friend ever man had.' So now I say to you as erst you said to me, +come to Gouda manse."</p> + +<p>"Humph! we will see about that."</p> + +<p>"Why, Margaret, think you I had ever kept the dear child so +long, but that I made sure you would be back to him from day to +day? Oh he curls round my very heart strings, but what is my +title to him compared to thine? Confess now, thou hast had hard +thoughts of me for this."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, not I. Ah! thou art thyself again; wast ever thoughtful +of others. I have half a mind to go to Gouda manse, for your +saying that."</p> + +<p>"Come then, with half thy mind, 'tis worth the whole of other +folk's."</p> + +<p>"Well, I dare say I will; but there is no such mighty hurry," +said she coolly (she was literally burning to go). "Tell me first +how you agree with your folk."</p> + +<p>"Why, already my poor have taken root in my heart."</p> + +<p>"I thought as much."</p> + +<p>"And there are such good creatures among them; simple, and +rough, and superstitious, but wonderfully good."</p> + +<p>"Oh! leave you alone for seeing a grain of good among a bushel +of ill."</p> + +<p>"Whisht; whisht! And, Margaret, two of them have been ill +friends for four years, and came to the manse each to get on my +blind side. But, give the glory to God, I got on their bright side +and made them friends and laugh at themselves for their folly."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_674" id="Page_674">[674]</a></span></p> + +<p>"But are you in very deed their vicar? answer me that."</p> + +<p>"Certes: have I not been to the bishop and taken the oath, and +rung the church bell, and touched the altar, the missal, and the holy +cap, before the churchwardens? And they have handed me the +parish seal; see here it is. Nay 'tis a real vicar inviting a true +friend to Gouda manse."</p> + +<p>"Then my mind is at ease. Tell me oceans more."</p> + +<p>"Well, sweet one, nearest to me of all my parish is a poor cripple +that my guardian angel and his (her name thou knowest even by this +turning of thy head away) hath placed beneath my roof. Sybrandt +and I are that we never were till now, brothers. 'Twould gladden +thee, yet sadden thee to hear how we kissed and forgave one +another. He is full of thy praises, and wholly in a pious mind; +he says he is happier since his trouble than e'er he was in the +days of his strength. Oh! out of my house he ne'er shall go to any +place but heaven."</p> + +<p>"Tell me somewhat that happened thyself, poor soul! All this +is good, but yet no tidings to me. Do I not know thee of old?"</p> + +<p>"Well, let me see. At first I was much dazzled by the sunlight, +and could not go abroad (owl!); but that is past; and good +Reicht Heynes—humph!"</p> + +<p>"What of her?"</p> + +<p>"This to thine ear only, for she is a diamond. Her voice goes +through me like a knife, and all voices seem loud but thine, which +is so mellow sweet. Stay, now I'll fit ye with tidings: I spake +yesterday with an old man that conceits he is ill-tempered, and +sweats to pass for such with others, but oh! so threadbare, and the +best good heart beneath."</p> + +<p>"Why 'tis a parish of angels," said Margaret, ironically.</p> + +<p>"Then why dost thou keep out on't?" retorted Gerard. "Well +he was telling me there was no parish in Holland where the devil +hath such power as at Gouda; and among his instances, says he, +'We had a hermit, the holiest in Holland; but, being Gouda, the +devil came for him this week, and took him, bag and baggage: not a +ha'porth of him left but a goodish piece of his skin, just for all +the world like a hedgehog's, and a piece o' old iron furbished up."</p> + +<p>Margaret smiled.</p> + +<p>"Aye, but," continued Gerard, "the strange thing is, the cave +has verily fallen in; and, had I been so perverse as resist thee, it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_675" id="Page_675">[675]</a></span> +had assuredly buried me dead there where I had buried myself +alive. Therefore in this I see the finger of Providence, condemning +my late, approving my present, way of life. What sayest thou?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, can I pierce the like mysteries? I am but a woman."</p> + +<p>"Somewhat more, methinks. This very tale proves thee my +guardian angel, and all else avouches it: so come to Gouda manse."</p> + +<p>"Well, go you on, I'll follow."</p> + +<p>"Nay, in the cart with me."</p> + +<p>"Not so."</p> + +<p>"Why?"</p> + +<p>"Can I tell why and wherefore, being a woman? All I know is +I seem—to feel—to wish—to come alone."</p> + +<p>"So be it then. I leave thee the cart, being, as thou sayest, a +woman, and I'll go a-foot being a man again, with the joyful tidings +of thy coming."</p> + +<p>When Margaret reached the manse the first thing she saw was +the two Gerards together, the son performing his capriccios on the +plot, and the father slouching on a chair, in his great hat, with +pencil and paper, trying very patiently to sketch him.</p> + +<p>After a warm welcome he showed her his attempts. "But in +vain I strive to fix him," said he, "for he is incarnate quicksilver. +Yet do but note his changes, infinite, but none ungracious: +all is supple and easy; and how he melteth from one posture to +another." He added presently, "Woe to illuminators! looking on +thee, sir baby, I see what awkward, lopsided, ungainly toads I and +my fellows painted missals with, and called them cherubs and +seraphs." Finally he threw the paper away in despair, and Margaret +conveyed it secretly into her bosom.</p> + +<p>At night when they sat round the peat fire he bade them observe +how beautiful the brass candlesticks and other glittering metals +were in the glow from the hearth. Catherine's eyes sparkled at +this observation. "And oh the sheets I lie in here," said he, "often +my conscience pricketh me and saith, 'Who art thou to lie in lint +like web of snow?' Dives was ne'er so flaxed as I. And to think +that there are folk in the world that have all the beautiful things +which I have here, yet not content. Let them pass six months in a +hermit's cell, seeing no face of man; then will they find how lovely +and pleasant this wicked world is; and eke that men and women are +God's fairest creatures. Margaret was always fair: but never to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_676" id="Page_676">[676]</a></span> +my eye so bright as now." Margaret shook her head incredulously. +Gerard continued: "My mother was ever good and kind, but I noted +not her exceeding comeliness till now."</p> + +<p>"Nor I neither," said Catherine: "a score years ago I might pass +in a crowd, but not now."</p> + +<p>Gerard declared to her that each age had its beauty: "See this +mild grey eye," said he, "that hath looked motherly love upon so +many of us, all that love hath left its shadow, and that shadow is +a beauty which defieth Time. See this delicate lip, these pure +white teeth. See this well-shaped brow, where comeliness just +passeth into reverence. Art beautiful in my eyes, mother dear."</p> + +<p>"And that is enough for me, my darling. 'Tis time you were in +bed, child. Ye have to preach the morn."</p> + +<p>And Reicht Heynes and Catherine interchanged a look, which +said, "We two have an amiable maniac to superintend; calls everything +beautiful."</p> + +<p>The next day was Sunday; and they heard him preach in his +own church. It was crammed with persons, who came curious, but +remained devout. Never was his wonderful gift displayed more +powerfully: he was himself deeply moved by the first sight of all +his people, and his bowels yearned over this flock he had so long +neglected. In a single sermon, which lasted two hours and seemed +to last but twenty minutes, he declared the whole scripture: he +terrified the impenitent and thoughtless, confirmed the wavering, +consoled the bereaved and the afflicted, uplifted the hearts of the +poor, and, when he ended, left the multitude standing, rapt, and +unwilling to believe the divine music of his voice and soul had +ceased.</p> + +<p>Need I say that two poor women in a corner sat entranced, with +streaming eyes.</p> + +<p>"Wherever gat he it all?" whispered Catherine with her apron +to her eyes. "By our Lady not from me."</p> + +<p>As soon as they were by themselves Margaret threw her arms +round Catherine's neck and kissed her.</p> + +<p>"Mother, mother, I am not quite a happy woman, but oh I am +a proud one."</p> + +<p>And she vowed on her knees never by word or deed to let her +love come between this young saint and heaven.</p> + +<p>Reader, did you ever stand by the sea-shore after a storm, when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_677" id="Page_677">[677]</a></span> +the wind happens to have gone down suddenly? The waves cannot +cease with their cause; indeed, they seem at first to the ear to lash +the sounding shore more fiercely than while the wind blew. Still +we are conscious that inevitable calm has begun, and is now but rocking +them to sleep. So it was with those true and tempest-tossed +lovers from that eventful night, when they went hand in hand beneath +the stars from Gouda hermitage to Gouda manse.</p> + +<p>At times a loud wave would every now and then come roaring; +but it was only memory's echo of the tempest that had swept their +lives: the storm itself was over; and the boiling waters began from +that moment to go down, down, down, gently, but inevitably.</p> + +<p>This image is to supply the place of interminable details, that +would be tedious and tame. What best merits attention at present, +is the general situation, and the strange complication of feeling that +arose from it. History itself, though a far more daring storyteller +than romance, presents few things so strange<a name="FNanchor_M_21" id="FNanchor_M_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_M_21" class="fnanchor">[M]</a> as the footing on +which Gerard and Margaret now lived for many years. United by +present affection, past familiarity, and a marriage irregular, but +legal; separated by holy Church and by their own consciences which +sided unreservedly with holy Church: separated by the Church, but +united by a living pledge of affection, lawful in every sense at its +date.</p> + +<p>And living but a few miles from one another, and she calling +his mother "mother." For some years she always took her boy to +Gouda on Sunday, returning home at dark. Go when she would, +it was always fête at Gouda manse, and she was received like a +little queen. Catherine, in these days, was nearly always with her, +and Eli very often. Tergou had so little to tempt them, compared +with Rotterdam; and at last they left it altogether, and set up in the +capital.</p> + +<p>And thus the years glided: so barren now of striking incidents, +so void of great hopes, and free from great fears, and so like one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_678" id="Page_678">[678]</a></span> +another, that without the help of dates I could scarcely indicate +the progress of time.</p> + +<p>However, early next year, 1471, the Duchess of Burgundy with +the open dissent, but secret connivance of the duke, raised forces +to enable her dethroned brother, Edward the Fourth of England, +to invade that kingdom; our old friend Denys thus enlisted, and +passing through Rotterdam to the ships, heard on his way that +Gerard was a priest, and Margaret alone. On this he told Margaret +that marriage was not a habit of his, but that as his comrade +had put it out of his own power to keep troth, he felt bound to +offer to keep it for him; "for a comrade's honour is dear to us +as our own," said he.</p> + +<p>She stared, then smiled, "I choose rather to be still thy she-comrade," +said she; "closer acquainted we might not agree so well." +And in her character of she-comrade she equipped him with a new +sword of Antwerp make, and a double handful of silver. "I give +thee no gold," said she; "for 'tis thrown away as quick as silver, +and harder to win back. Heaven send thee safe out of all thy +perils; there be famous fair women yonder to beguile thee with +their faces, as well as men to hash thee with their axes."</p> + +<p>He was hurried on board at La Vere, and never saw Gerard at that +time.</p> + +<p>In 1473, Sybrandt began to fail. His pitiable existence had been +sweetened by his brother's inventive tenderness, and his own contented +spirit, which, his antecedents considered, was truly remarkable. +As for Gerard, the day never passed that he did not devote +two hours to him; reading or singing to him, praying with him, and +drawing him about in a soft carriage Margaret and he had made between +them. When the poor soul found his end near, he begged +Margaret might be sent for; she came at once, and almost with his +last breath he sought once more that forgiveness she had long ago +accorded. She remained by him till the last; and he died blessing +and blessed, in the arms of the two true lovers he had parted for +life. Tantum religio scit suadere boni.</p> + +<p>1474 there was a wedding in Margaret's house. Luke Peterson +and Reicht Heynes.</p> + +<p>This may seem less strange if I give the purport of the dialogue +interrupted some time back.</p> + +<p>Margaret went on to say: "Then in that case you can easily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_679" id="Page_679">[679]</a></span> +make him fancy you, and for my sake you must, for my conscience +it pricketh me and I must needs fit him with a wife, the best I know." +Margaret then instructed Reicht to be always kind and good humoured +to Luke; and she would be a model of peevishness to him. +"But be not thou so simple as run me down," said she. "Leave that +to me. Make thou excuses for me; I will make myself black enow."</p> + +<p>Reicht received these instructions like an order to sweep a room, +and obeyed them punctually.</p> + +<p>When they had subjected poor Luke to this double artillery for +a couple of years, he got to look upon Margaret as his fog and wind, +and Reicht as his sunshine: and his affections transferred themselves, +he scarce knew how or when.</p> + +<p>On the wedding day Reicht embraced Margaret and thanked her +almost with tears. "He was always my fancy," said she, "from the +first hour I clapped eyes on him."</p> + +<p>"Heyday, you never told me that. What, Reicht, are you as sly +as the rest?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay," said Reicht eagerly; "but I never thought you would +really part with him to me. In my country the mistress looks to +be served before the maid."</p> + +<p>Margaret settled them in her shop, and gave them half the profits.</p> + +<p>1476 and 7, were years of great trouble to Gerard, whose conscience +compelled him to oppose the Pope. His Holiness, siding +with the Grey Friars in their determination to swamp every palpable +distinction between the Virgin Mary and her Son, bribed the +Christian world into his crotchet by proffering pardon of all sins to +such as would add to the Ave Mary, this clause: "and blessed be thy +Mother Anna, from whom, without blot of original sin, proceeded +thy virgin flesh."</p> + +<p>Gerard, in common with many of the northern clergy, held this +sentence to be flat heresy; he not only refused to utter it in his +church, but warned his parishioners against using it in private; and +he refused to celebrate the new feast the Pope invented at the same +time, viz., "the feast of the miraculous conception of the Virgin."</p> + +<p>But this drew upon him the bitter enmity of the Franciscans, and +they were strong enough to put him into more than one serious +difficulty, and inflict many a little mortification on him.</p> + +<p>In emergencies he consulted Margaret, and she always did one +of two things, either she said, "I do not see my way"; and refused to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_680" id="Page_680">[680]</a></span> +guess; or else she gave him advice that proved wonderfully sagacious. +He had genius; but she had marvellous tact.</p> + +<p>And where affection came in and annihilated the woman's judgment, +he stepped in his turn to her aid. Thus, though she knew +she was spoiling little Gerard, and Catherine was ruining him for +life, she would not part with him, but kept him at home, and his +abilities uncultivated. And there was a shrewd boy of nine years, +instead of learning to work and obey, playing about and learning +selfishness from their infinite unselfishness, and tyrannizing with a +rod of iron over two women, both of them sagacious and spirited, but +reduced by their fondness for him to the exact level of idiots.</p> + +<p>Gerard saw this with pain, and interfered with mild but firm +remonstrance; and after a considerable struggle prevailed, and got +little Gerard sent to the best school in Europe, kept by one Haaghe +at Deventer: this was in 1477. Many tears were shed, but the great +progress the boy made at that famous school reconciled Margaret in +some degree, and the fidelity of Reicht Heynes, now her partner in +business, enabled her to spend weeks at a time hovering over her boy +at Deventer.</p> + +<p>And so the years glided; and these two persons subjected to as +strong and constant temptation as can well be conceived, were +each other's guardian angels; and not each other's tempters.</p> + +<p>To be sure the well greased morality of the next century, which +taught that solemn vows to God are sacred in proportion as they are +reasonable, had at that time entered no single mind; and the alternative +to these two minds was self-denial, or sacrilege.</p> + +<p>It was a strange thing to hear them talk with unrestrained tenderness +to one another of their boy; and an icy barrier between themselves +all the time.</p> + +<p>Eight years had now passed thus, and Gerard, fairly compared +with men in general, was happy.</p> + +<p>But Margaret was not.</p> + +<p>The habitual expression of her face was a sweet pensiveness; but +sometimes she was irritable and a little petulant. She even snapped +Gerard now and then. And, when she went to see him, if a monk +was with him, she would turn her back and go home.</p> + +<p>She hated the monks for having parted Gerard and her, and she +inoculated her boy with a contempt for them which lasted him till +his dying day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_681" id="Page_681">[681]</a></span></p> + +<p>Gerard bore with her like an angel. He knew her heart of gold, +and hoped this ill gust would blow over.</p> + +<p>He himself being now the right man in the right place this many +years, loving his parishioners, and beloved by them, and occupied +from morn till night in good works, recovered the natural cheerfulness +of his disposition. To tell the truth, a part of his jocoseness +was a blind: he was the greatest peacemaker, except Mr. Harmony +in the play, that ever was born. He reconciled more enemies in ten +years than his predecessors had done in three hundred; and one of +his manœuvres in the peace-making art was to make the quarrellers +laugh at the cause of quarrel. So did he undermine the demon of +discord. But, independently of that, he really loved a harmless +joke. He was a wonderful tamer of animals, squirrels, hares, +fawns, &c. So half in jest, a parishoner who had a mule supposed +to be possessed with a devil, gave it him, and said, "Tame this vagabone, +parson, if ye can." Well, in about six months, Heaven knows +how, he not only tamed Jack, but won his affections to such a degree, +that Jack would come running to his whistle like a dog. One day, +having taken shelter from a shower on the stone settle outside a certain +public-house, he heard a toper inside, a stranger, boasting he +could take more at a draught than any man in Gouda. He instantly +marched in, and said, "What, lads, do none of ye take him up for the +honour of Gouda? Shall it be said that there came hither one from +another parish a greater sot than any of us? Nay, then, I your +parson do take him up. Go to; I'll find thee a parishioner shall +drink more at a draught than thou."</p> + +<p>A bet was made: Gerard whistled; in clattered Jack—for he was +taught to come into a room with the utmost composure—and put his +nose into his backer's hand.</p> + +<p>"A pair of buckets!" shouted Gerard, "and let us see which of +these two sons of asses can drink most at a draught."</p> + +<p>On another occasion two farmers had a dispute whose hay was the +best. Failing to convince each other, they said, "We'll ask parson;" +for by this time he was their referee in every mortal thing.</p> + +<p>"How lucky you thought of me!" said Gerard. "Why, I have got +one staying with me who is the best judge of hay in Holland. Bring +me a double handful apiece."</p> + +<p>So when they came, he had them into the parlour, and put each +bundle on a chair. Then he whistled, and in walked Jack.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_682" id="Page_682">[682]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Lord a mercy!" said one of the farmers.</p> + +<p>"Jack," said the parson, in the tone of conversation, "just tell us +which is the best hay of these two."</p> + +<p>Jack sniffed them both, and made his choice directly; proving his +sincerity by eating every morsel. The farmers slapped their thighs, +and scratched their heads. "To think of we not thinking o' that." +And they each sent Jack a truss.</p> + +<p>So Gerard got to be called the merry parson of Gouda. But +Margaret, who like most loving women had no more sense of humour +than a turtledove, took this very ill. "What!" said she to herself, +"is there nothing sore at the bottom of his heart that he can go about +playing the zany?" She could understand pious resignation and +content, but not mirth, in true lovers parted. And whilst her +woman's nature was perturbed by this gust (and women seem more +subject to gusts than men) came that terrible animal, a busybody, +to work upon her. Catherine saw she was not happy, and said to +her, "Your boy is gone from you. I would not live alone all my +days if I were you."</p> + +<p>"<i>He</i> is more alone than I," sighed Margaret.</p> + +<p>"Oh, a man is a man: but a woman is a woman. You must not +think all of him and none of yourself. Near is your kirtle, but +nearer is your smock. Besides, he is a priest, and can do no better. +But you are not a priest. He has got his parish, and his heart is in +that. Bethink thee! Time flies; overstay not thy market. +Wouldst not like to have three or four more little darlings about thy +knee now they have robbed thee of poor little Gerard, and sent him +to yon nasty school?" And so she worked upon a mind already +irritated.</p> + +<p>Margaret had many suitors ready to marry her at a word or even +a look, and among them two merchants of the better class, Van Schelt +and Oostwagen. "Take one of those two," said Catherine.</p> + +<p>"Well, I will ask Gerard if I may," said Margaret one day with +a flood of tears; "for I cannot go on the way I am."</p> + +<p>"Why, you would never be so simple as ask <i>him?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Think you I would be so wicked as marry without his leave?"</p> + +<p>Accordingly she actually went to Gouda, and after hanging her +head, and blushing, and crying, and saying she was miserable, told +him his mother wished her to marry one of those two; and if he approved +of her marrying at all, would he use his wisdom, and tell her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_683" id="Page_683">[683]</a></span> +which he thought would he the kindest to the little Gerard of those +two; for herself she did not care what became of her.</p> + +<p>Gerard felt as if she had put a soft hand into his body, and torn +his heart out with it. But the priest with a mighty effort mastered +the man. In a voice scarcely audible he declined this responsibility. +"I am not a saint or a prophet," said he; "I might advise thee ill. +I shall read the marriage service for thee," faltered he; "it is my +right. No other would pray for thee as I should. But thou must +choose for thyself: and oh! let me see thee happy. This four +months past thou hast not been happy."</p> + +<p>"A discontented mind is never happy," said Margaret.</p> + +<p>She left him, and he fell on his knees, and prayed for help from +above.</p> + +<p>Margaret went home pale and agitated. "Mother," said she, +"never mention it to me again, or we shall quarrel."</p> + +<p>"He forbade you? Well, more shame for him, that is all."</p> + +<p>"He forbid me? He did not condescend so far. He was as noble +as I was paltry. He would not choose for me for fear of choosing +me an ill husband. But he would read the service for my groom +and me: that was his right. Oh, mother, what a heartless creature +I was!"</p> + +<p>"Well, I thought not he had that much sense."</p> + +<p>"Ah, you go by the poor soul's words: but I rate words as air +when the face speaketh to mine eye. I saw the priest and the true +lover a fighting in his dear face, and his cheek pale with the strife, +and oh! his poor lip trembled as he said the stout-hearted words—Oh! +oh! oh! oh! oh! oh! oh!" And Margaret burst into a violent +passion of tears.</p> + +<p>Catherine groaned. "There, give it up without more ado," said +she. "You two are chained together for life; and, if God is merciful, +that won't be for long; for what are you? neither maid, wife, +nor widow."</p> + +<p>"Give it up?" said Margaret: "that was done long ago. All I +think of now is comforting him; for now I have been and made him +unhappy too, wretch and monster that I am."</p> + +<p>So the next day they both went to Gouda. And Gerard, who had +been praying for resignation all this time, received her with peculiar +tenderness as a treasure he was to lose; for she was agitated and +eager to let him see without words that she would never marry, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_684" id="Page_684">[684]</a></span> +she fawned on him like a little dog to be forgiven. And as she was +going away she murmured, "Forgive! and forget! I am but a woman."</p> + +<p>He misunderstood her, and said, "All I bargain for is, let me see +thee content; for pity's sake, let me not see thee unhappy as I have +this while."</p> + +<p>"My darling, you never shall again," said Margaret, with streaming +eyes, and kissed his hand.</p> + +<p>He misunderstood this too at first; but when month after month +passed, and he heard no more of her marriage, and she came to +Gouda comparatively cheerful, and was even civil to Father Ambrose, +a mild benevolent monk from the Dominican convent hard +by—then he understood her; and one day he invited her to walk +alone with him in the sacred paddock: and before I relate what +passed between them, I must give its history. When Gerard had +been four or five days at the manse looking out of window, he uttered +an exclamation of joy. "Mother, Margaret, here is one of +my birds: another, another; four, six, nine. A miracle! a miracle!"</p> + +<p>"Why, how can you tell your birds from their fellows?" said +Catherine.</p> + +<p>"I know every feather in their wings. And see: there is the little +darling whose beak I gilt, bless it!"</p> + +<p>And presently his rapture took a serious turn, and he saw +Heaven's approbation in this conduct of the birds as he did in the +fall of the cave. This wonderfully kept alive his friendship for +animals: and he enclosed a paddock, and drove all the sons of Cain +from it with threats of excommunication. "On this little spot of +earth we'll have no murder," said he. He tamed leverets and partridges, +and little birds, and hares, and roe-deer. He found a +squirrel with a broken leg; he set it with infinite difficulty and +patience: and during the cure showed it repositories of acorns, nuts, +chestnuts, &c. And this squirrel got well and went off, but visited +him in hard weather, and brought a mate, and next year little +squirrels were found to have imbibed their parents' sentiments: and +of all these animals each generation was tamer than the last. This +set the good parson thinking, and gave him the true clue to the great +successes of mediæval hermits in taming wild animals.</p> + +<p>He kept the key of this paddock, and never let any man but himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_685" id="Page_685">[685]</a></span> +enter it: nor would he even let little Gerard go there without +him or Margaret. "Children are all little Cains," said he.</p> + +<p>In this oasis then he spoke to Margaret, and said, "Dear Margaret, +I have thought more than ever of thee of late, and have asked myself +why I am content, and thou unhappy."</p> + +<p>"Because thou art better, wiser, holier, than I; that is all," said +Margaret, promptly.</p> + +<p>"Our lives tell another tale," said Gerard, thoughtfully. "I know +thy goodness and thy wisdom too well to reason thus perversely. +Also I know that I love thee as dear as thou, I think, lovest me. Yet +am I happier than thou. Why is this so?"</p> + +<p>"Dear Gerard, I am as happy as a woman can hope to be this side +the grave."</p> + +<p>"Not so happy as I. Now for the reason. First then I am a +priest, and this, the one great trial and disappointment God giveth +me along with so many joys, why I share it with a multitude. For +alas! I am not the only priest by thousands that must never hope for +entire earthly happiness. Here then thy lot is harder than mine."</p> + +<p>"But Gerard, I have my child to love. Thou canst not fill thy +heart with him as his mother can. So you may set this against +yon."</p> + +<p>"And I have ta'en him from thee; it was cruel; but he would have +broken thy heart one day if I had not. Well then, sweet one, I +come to where the shoe pincheth, methinks. I have my parish, and +it keeps my heart in a glow from morn till night. There is scarce +an emotion that my folk stir not up in me many times a day. Often +their sorrows make me weep, sometimes their perversity kindles a +little wrath, and their absurdity makes me laugh, and sometimes +their flashes of unexpected goodness do set me all of a glow: and I +could hug 'em. Meantime thou, poor soul, sittest with heart—"</p> + +<p>"Of lead, Gerard, of very lead."</p> + +<p>"See now, how unkind thy lot compared with mine. Now how +if thou couldst be persuaded to warm thyself at the fire that warmeth +me."</p> + +<p>"Ah, if I could?"</p> + +<p>"Hast but to will it. Come among my folk. Take in thine hand +the alms I set aside, and give it with kind words; hear their sorrows: +they shall show you life is full of troubles, and, as thou sayest truly, +no man or woman without their thorn this side the grave. In-doors<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_686" id="Page_686">[686]</a></span> +I have a map of Gouda parish. Not to o'erburden thee at first, I +will put twenty housen under thee with their folk. What sayest +thou? but for thy wisdom I had died a dirty maniac, and ne'er seen +Gouda manse, nor pious peace. Wilt profit in turn by what little +wisdom <i>I</i> have to soften her lot to whom I do owe all?"</p> + +<p>Margaret assented warmly: and a happy thing it was for the little +district assigned to her: it was as if an angel had descended on +them. Her fingers were never tired of knitting, or cutting for them, +her heart of sympathizing with them. And that heart expanded +and waved its drooping wings; and the glow of good and gentle deeds +began to spread over it: and she was rewarded in another way, by +being brought into more contact with Gerard, and also with his +spirit. All this time malicious tongues had not been idle. "If +there is nought between them more than meets the eye, why doth +she not marry?" &c. And I am sorry to say our old friend, Joan +Ketel, was one of these coarse sceptics. And now, one winter evening +she got on a hot scent. She saw Margaret and Gerard talking +earnestly together on the Boulevard. She whipped behind a tree. +"Now I'll hear something," said she: and so she did. It was winter; +there had been one of those tremendous floods followed by a +sharp frost, and Gerard in despair as to where he should lodge forty +or fifty houseless folk out of the piercing cold. And now it was, +"Oh dear, dear Margaret, what shall I do? The manse is full of +them, and a sharp frost coming on this night."</p> + +<p>Margaret reflected, and Joan listened.</p> + +<p>"You must lodge them in the church," said Margaret, quietly.</p> + +<p>"In the church? Profanation."</p> + +<p>"No: charity profanes nothing; not even a church: soils nought, +not even a church. To-day is but Tuesday. Go save their lives; +for a bitter night is coming. Take thy stove into the church: and +there house them. We will dispose of them here and there ere the +Lord's day."</p> + +<p>"And I could not think of that: bless thee, sweet Margaret; thy +mind is stronger than mine, and readier."</p> + +<p>"Nay, nay, a woman looks but a little way; therefore she sees +clear. I'll come over myself to-morrow."</p> + +<p>And on this they parted with mutual blessings.</p> + +<p>Joan glided home remorseful.</p> + +<p>And after that she used to check all surmises to their discredit.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_687" id="Page_687">[687]</a></span> +"Beware," she would say, "lest some angel should blister thy tongue. +Gerard and Margaret paramours? I tell ye they are two saints +which meet in secret to plot charity to the poor."</p> + +<p>In the summer of 1481 Gerard determined to provide against +similar disasters recurring to his poor. Accordingly he made a +great hole in his income, and bled his friends (zealous parsons always +do that) to build a large Xenodochium to receive the victims +of flood or fire. Giles, and all his friends were kind, but all was +not enough; when lo! the Dominican monks of Gouda, to whom +his parlour and heart had been open for years, came out nobly and +put down a handsome sum to aid the charitable vicar.</p> + +<p>"The dear good souls," said Margaret, "who would have thought +it!"</p> + +<p>"Any one who knows them," said Gerard. "Who more charitable +than monks?"</p> + +<p>"Go to! They do but give the laity back a pig of their own sow."</p> + +<p>"And what more do I? What more doth the duke?"</p> + +<p>Then the ambitious vicar must build almshouses for decayed true +men in their old age, close to the manse, that he might keep, and +feed them, as well as lodge them. And, his money being gone, he +asked Margaret for a few thousand bricks, and just took off his coat +and turned builder: and as he had a good head, and the strength of +a Hercules, with the zeal of an artist, up rose a couple of almshouses +parson built.</p> + +<p>And at this work Margaret would sometimes bring him his dinner, +and add a good bottle of Rhenish. And once, seeing him run +up a plank with a wheelbarrow full of bricks, which really most +bricklayers would have gone staggering under, she said, "Times are +changed since I had to carry little Gerard for thee."</p> + +<p>"Ay, dear one, thanks to thee."</p> + +<p>When the first home was finished, the question was who they +should put into it; and being fastidious over it like a new toy, there +was much hesitation. But an old friend arrived in time to settle +this question.</p> + +<p>As Gerard was passing a public-house in Rotterdam one day, he +heard a well-known voice. He looked up, and there was Denys of +Burgundy; but sadly changed: his beard stained with grey, and his +clothes worn and ragged; he had a cuirass still, and gauntlets, but +a staff instead of an arbalest. To the company he appeared to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_688" id="Page_688">[688]</a></span> +bragging and boasting; but in reality he was giving a true relation +of Edward the Fourth's invasion of an armed kingdom with 2000 +men, and his march through the country with armies capable of +swallowing him, looking on, his battles at Tewkesbury and Barnet, +and reoccupation of his capital and kingdom in three months after +landing at the Humber with a mixed handful of Dutch, English, +and Burgundians.</p> + +<p>In this, the greatest feat of arms the century had seen, Denys had +shone; and whilst sneering at the warlike pretensions of Charles +the Bold, a duke with an itch, but no talent, for fighting, and proclaiming +the English king the first captain of the age, did not forget +to exalt himself.</p> + +<p>Gerard listened with eyes glittering affection and fun. "And +now," said Denys, "after all these feats, patted on the back by the +gallant young Prince of Gloucester, and smiled on by the great +captain himself, here I am lamed for life; by what? by the kick of +a horse, and this night I know not where I shall lay my tired bones. +I had a comrade once in these parts, that would not have let me lie +far from him. But he turned priest and deserted his sweetheart; +so 'tis not likely he would remember his comrade. And ten years +play sad havoc with our hearts, and limbs, and all." Poor Denys +sighed; and Gerard's bowels yearned over him.</p> + +<p>"What words are these?" he said, with a great gulp in his throat. +"Who grudges a brave soldier supper and bed? Come home with +me!"</p> + +<p>"Much obliged; but I am no lover of priests."</p> + +<p>"Nor I of soldiers; but what is supper and bed between two true +men?"</p> + +<p>"Not much to you; but something to me. I will come."</p> + +<p>"In one hour," said Gerard, and went in high spirits to Margaret, +and told her the treat in store, and she must come and share it. She +must drive his mother in his little carriage up to the manse with all +speed, and make ready an excellent supper.</p> + +<p>Then he himself borrowed a cart, and drove Denys up rather +slowly, to give the women time.</p> + +<p>On the road Denys found out this priest was a kind soul; so told +him his trouble, and confessed his heart was pretty near broken. +"The great use our stout hearts, and arms, and lives, till we are +worn out, and then fling us away like broken tools." He sighed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_689" id="Page_689">[689]</a></span> +deeply, and it cost Gerard a great struggle, not to hug him then and +there, and tell him. But he wanted to do it all like a story book. +Who has not had this fancy once in his life? Why Joseph had it; +all the better for us.</p> + +<p>They landed at the little house. It was as clean as a penny; the +hearth blazing, and supper set.</p> + +<p>Denys brightened up. "Is this your house, reverend sir?"</p> + +<p>"Well, 'tis my work, and with these hands; but 'tis your house."</p> + +<p>"Ah, no such luck," said Denys, with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"But I say ay," shouted Gerard. "And what is more. I—" +(gulp) "say—" (gulp) "Courage, camarade, le diable est mort!"</p> + +<p>Denys started, and almost staggered. "Why what?" he stammered, +"w—wh—who art thou that bringest me back the merry +words and merry days of my youth?" and he was greatly agitated.</p> + +<p>"My poor Denys, I am one whose face is changed, but nought +else: to my heart, dear trusty comrade, to my heart." And he +opened his arms, with the tears in his eyes. But Denys came close +to him, and peered in his face, and devoured every feature; and +when he was sure it was really Gerard, he uttered a cry so vehement +it brought the women running from the house, and fell upon +Gerard's neck, and kissed him again and again, and sank on his +knees, and laughed and sobbed with joy so terribly that Gerard +mourned his folly in doing dramas. But the women with their +gentle soothing ways soon composed the brave fellow; and he sat +smiling, and holding Margaret's hand and Gerard's. And they all +supped together, and went to their beds with hearts warm as a toast, +and the broken soldier was at peace, and in his own house, and under +his comrade's wing.</p> + +<p>His natural gaiety returned, and he resumed his consigne after +eight years' disuse, and hobbled about the place enlivening it, but +offended the parish mortally by calling the adored vicar comrade, +and nothing but comrade.</p> + +<p>When they made a fuss about this to Gerard, he just looked in +their faces and said, "What does it matter? Break him of swearing, +and you shall have my thanks."</p> + +<p>This year Margaret went to a lawyer to make her will, for without +this she was told her boy might have trouble some day to get +his own, not being born in lawful wedlock. The lawyer, however, +in conversation, expressed a different opinion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_690" id="Page_690">[690]</a></span></p> + +<p>"This is the babble of churchmen," said he. "Yours is a perfect +marriage, though an irregular one."</p> + +<p>He then informed her that throughout Europe, excepting only +the southern part of Britain, there were three irregular marriages, +the highest of which was hers, viz., a betrothal before witnesses.</p> + +<p>"This," said he, "if not followed by matrimonial intercourse, is +a marriage complete in form, but incomplete in substance. A person +so betrothed can forbid any other banns to all eternity. It has, +however, been set aside where a party so betrothed contrived to get +married regularly and children were born thereafter. But such a +decision was for the sake of the offspring, and of doubtful justice. +However, in your case, the birth of your child closes that door, and +your marriage is complete both in form and substance. Your +course, therefore, is to sue for your conjugal rights: it will be the +prettiest case of the century. The law is on our side, the Church +all on theirs. If you come to that, the old Batavian law, which +<i>compelled</i> the clergy to marry, hath fallen into disuse, but was never +formally repealed."</p> + +<p>Margaret was quite puzzled. "What are you driving at, sir? +Who am I to go to law with?"</p> + +<p>"Who is the defendant? Why, the vicar of Gouda."</p> + +<p>"Alas, poor soul! And for what shall I law him?"</p> + +<p>"Why, to make him take you into his house, and share bed and +board with you, to be sure."</p> + +<p>Margaret turned red as fire. "Gramercy for your rede," said +she. "What, is yon a woman's part? Constrain a man to be hers +by force? That is men's way of wooing, not ours. Say I were so +ill a woman as ye think me, I should set myself to beguile him, not +to law him;" and she departed, crimson with shame and indignation.</p> + +<p>"There is an impracticable fool for you," said the man of art.</p> + +<p>Margaret had her will drawn elsewhere, and made her boy safe +from poverty, marriage or no marriage.</p> + +<p>These are the principal incidents, that in ten whole years befell +two peaceful lives, which in a much shorter period had been so +thronged with adventures and emotions.</p> + +<p>Their general tenor was now peace, piety, the mild content that +lasts, not the fierce bliss ever on tiptoe to depart, and, above all, +Christian charity.</p> + +<p>On this sacred ground these two true lovers met with an uniformity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_691" id="Page_691">[691]</a></span> +and a kindness of sentiment, which went far to sooth the +wound in their own hearts. To pity the same bereaved; to hunt in +couples all the ills in Gouda, and contrive and scheme together to +remedy all that were remediable; to use the rare insight into troubled +hearts, which their own troubles had given them, and use it to make +others happier than themselves, this was their daily practice. And +in this blessed cause their passion for one another cooled a little, +but their affection increased. From the time Margaret entered +heart and soul into Gerard's pious charities that affection purged +itself of all mortal dross. And, as it had now long outlived scandal +and misapprehension, one would have thought that so bright an +example of pure self-denying affection was to remain long before the +world, to show men how nearly religious faith, even when not quite +reasonable, and religious charity, which is always reasonable, could +raise two true lovers' hearts to the loving hearts of the angels of +heaven. But the great Disposer of events ordered otherwise.</p> + +<p>Little Gerard rejoiced both his parents' hearts by the extraordinary +progress he made at Alexander Haaghe's famous school at +Deventer.</p> + +<p>The last time Margaret returned from visiting him she came to +Gerard flushed with pride. "Oh, Gerard, he will be a great man +one day, thanks to thy wisdom in taking him from us silly women. +A great scholar, one Zinthius, came to see the school and judge the +scholars, and didn't our Gerard stand up, and not a line in Horace +or Terence could Zinthius cite, but the boy would follow him with +the rest. 'Why, 'tis a prodigy,' says that great scholar, and there +was his poor mother stood by and heard it. And he took our Gerard +in his arms and kissed him, and what think you he said?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, I know not."</p> + +<p>"'Holland will hear of thee one day: and not Holland only, but +all the world.' Why, what a sad brow!"</p> + +<p>"Sweet one, I am as glad as thou; yet am I uneasy to hear the +child is wise before his time. I love him dear: but he is thine idol; +and Heaven doth often break our idols."</p> + +<p>"Make thy mind easy," said Margaret. "Heaven will never rob +me of my child. What I was to suffer in this world I have suffered. +For if any ill happened to my child or thee I should not live a week. +The Lord he knows this, and he will leave me my boy."</p> + +<p>A month had elapsed after this; but Margaret's words were yet<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_692" id="Page_692">[692]</a></span> +ringing in his ears, when, going his daily round of visits to his +poor, he was told quite incidentally and as mere gossip that the +plague was at Deventer, carried thither by two sailors from Hamburgh.</p> + +<p>His heart turned cold within him. News did not gallop in those +days. The fatal disease must have been there a long time before +the tidings would reach Gouda. He sent a line by a messenger to +Margaret, telling her that he was gone to fetch little Gerard to +stay at the manse a little while; and would she see a bed prepared; +for he should be back next day. And so he hoped she would not +hear a word of the danger till it was all happily over. He borrowed +a good horse, and scarce drew rein till he reached Deventer, +quite late in the afternoon. He went at once to the school. The +boy had been taken away.</p> + +<p>As he left the school he caught sight of Margaret's face at the +window of a neighbouring house she always lodged at when she +came to Deventer.</p> + +<p>He ran hastily in to scold her and pack both her and the boy +out of the place.</p> + +<p>To his surprise the servant told him with some hesitation that +Margaret had been there, but was gone.</p> + +<p>"Gone, woman?" said Gerard, indignantly. "Art not ashamed +to say so? Why, I saw her but now at the window."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you saw her——"</p> + +<p>A sweet voice above said, "Stay him not, let him enter." It +was Margaret.</p> + +<p>Gerard ran up the stairs to her, and went to take her hand.</p> + +<p>She drew back hastily.</p> + +<p>He looked astounded.</p> + +<p>"I am displeased," said she, coldly. "What makes you here? +Know you not the plague is in the town?"</p> + +<p>"Ay, dear Margaret: and came straightway to take our boy +away."</p> + +<p>"What, had he no mother?"</p> + +<p>"How you speak to me! I hoped you knew not."</p> + +<p>"What, think you I leave my boy unwatched? I pay a trusty +woman that notes every change in his cheek when I am not here, +and lets me know. I am his mother."</p> + +<p>"Where is he?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_693" id="Page_693">[693]</a></span></p> + +<p>"In Rotterdam, I hope, ere this."</p> + +<p>"Thank Heaven! And why are you not there?"</p> + +<p>"I am not fit for the journey: never heed me; go you home on +the instant: I'll follow. For shame of you to come here risking +your precious life."</p> + +<p>"It is not so precious as thine," said Gerard. "But let that +pass; we will go home together, and on the instant."</p> + +<p>"Nay, I have some matters to do in the town. Go thou at once; +and I will follow forthwith."</p> + +<p>"Leave thee alone in a plague-stricken town? To whom speak +you, dear Margaret?"</p> + +<p>"Nay, then, we shall quarrel, Gerard."</p> + +<p>"Methinks I see Margaret and Gerard quarreling! Why, it +takes two to quarrel, and we are but one."</p> + +<p>With this Gerard smiled on her sweetly. But there was no kind +responsive glance. She looked cold, gloomy, and troubled. He +sighed, and sat patiently down opposite her with his face all puzzled +and saddened. He said nothing: for he felt sure she would +explain her capricious conduct, or it would explain itself.</p> + +<p>Presently she rose hastily, and tried to reach her bedroom: but +on the way she staggered and put out her hand. He ran to her +with a cry of alarm. She swooned in his arms. He laid her gently +on the ground, and beat her cold hands, and ran to her bedroom, +and fetched water, and sprinkled her pale face. His own was +scarce less pale; for in a basin he had seen water stained with +blood: it alarmed him, he knew not why. She was a long time ere +she revived, and when she did she found Gerard holding her hand, +and bending over her with a look of infinite concern and tenderness. +She seemed at first as if she responded to it, but the next moment +her eye dilated, and she cried, "Ah, wretch, leave my hand; how +dare you touch me?"</p> + +<p>"Heaven help her!" said Gerard. "She is not herself."</p> + +<p>"You will not leave me, then, Gerard?" said she, faintly. "Alas! +why do I ask? Would I leave thee if thou wert——At least, touch +me not, and then I will let thee abide, and see the last of poor Margaret. +She ne'er spoke harsh to thee before, sweetheart; and she +never will again."</p> + +<p>"Alas! what mean these dark words, these wild and troubled +looks?" said Gerard, clasping his hands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_694" id="Page_694">[694]</a></span></p> + +<p>"My poor Gerard," said Margaret, "forgive me that I spoke so +to thee. I am but a woman, and would have spared thee a sight will +make thee weep." She burst into tears. "Ah, me!" she cried, +weeping, "that I cannot keep grief from thee: there is a great +sorrow before my darling, and this time I shall not be able to come +and dry his eyes."</p> + +<p>"Let it come, Margaret, so it touch not thee," said Gerard, trembling.</p> + +<p>"Dearest," said Margaret, solemnly, "call now religion to thine +aid and mine. I must have died before thee one day, or else outlived +thee and so died of grief."</p> + +<p>"Died? thou die? I will never let thee die. Where is thy pain? +What is thy trouble?"</p> + +<p>"The plague," said she, calmly. Gerard uttered a cry of horror, +and started to his feet: she read his thought. "Useless," said she, +quietly. "My nose hath bled; none ever yet survived to whom +that came along with the plague. Bring no fools hither to babble +over the body they cannot save. I am but a woman; I love not to +be stared at; let none see me die but thee."</p> + +<p>And even with this a convulsion seized her, and she remained +sensible but speechless a long time.</p> + +<p>And now for the first time Gerard began to realize the frightful +truth, and he ran wildly to and fro, and cried to Heaven for help +as drowning men cry to their fellow-creatures. She raised herself +on her arm and set herself to quiet him.</p> + +<p>She told him she had known the torture of hopes and fears, +and was resolved to spare him that agony. "I let my mind dwell +too much on the danger," said she, "and so opened my brain to it; +through which door when this subtle venom enters it makes short +work. I shall not be spotted or loathsome, my poor darling; God +is good and spares thee that; but in twelve hours I shall be a dead +woman. Ah, look not so, but be a man: be a priest! Waste not one +precious minute over my body; it is doomed; but comfort my parting +soul."</p> + +<p>Gerard sick and cold at heart kneeled down, and prayed for +help from Heaven to do his duty.</p> + +<p>When he rose from his knees his face was pale and old, but +deadly calm and patient. He went softly and brought her bed +into the room, and laid her gently down and supported her head<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_695" id="Page_695">[695]</a></span> +with pillows. Then he prayed by her side the prayers for the dying, +and she said Amen to each prayer. Then for some hours she +wandered, but when the fell disease had quite made sure of its +prey, her mind cleared; and she begged Gerard to shrive her; "For +oh my conscience it is laden," said she, sadly.</p> + +<p>"Confess thy sins to me, my daughter; let there be no reserve."</p> + +<p>"My father," said she, sadly, "I have one great sin on my breast +this many years. E'en now that death is at my heart I can scarce +own it. But the Lord is débonair: if thou wilt pray to him, perchance +he may forgive me."</p> + +<p>"Confess it first, my daughter."</p> + +<p>"I—alas!"</p> + +<p>"Confess it!"</p> + +<p>"I deceived thee. This many years I have deceived thee."</p> + +<p>Here tears interrupted her speech.</p> + +<p>"Courage, my daughter, courage," said Gerard, kindly, overpowering +the lover in the priest.</p> + +<p>She hid her face in her hands, and with many sighs told him it +was she who had broken down the hermit's cave with the help of +Jorian Ketel. "I, shallow, did it but to hinder thy return thither; +but when thou sawest therein the finger of God, I played the traitress, +and said, 'While he thinks so he will ne'er leave Gouda manse;' +and I held my tongue. Oh false heart."</p> + +<p>"Courage, my daughter; thou dost exaggerate a trivial fault."</p> + +<p>"Ah, but 'tis not all. The birds."</p> + +<p>"Well?"</p> + +<p>"They followed thee not to Gouda by miracle but by my treason. +I said, he will ne'er be quite happy without his birds that visited +him in his cell; and I was jealous of them, and cried, and said, these +foul little things, they are my child's rivals. And I bought loaves +of bread, and Jorian and me we put crumbs at the cave door, and +thence went sprinkling them all the way to the manse, and there a +heap. And my wiles succeeded, and they came, and thou wast +glad, and I was pleased to see thee glad; and when thou sawest in +my guile the finger of Heaven, wicked, deceitful I did hold my +tongue. But <i>die</i> deceiving thee? ah, no, I could not. Forgive me +if thou canst; I was but a woman; I knew no better at the time. +'Twas writ in my bosom with a very sunbeam, ''Tis good for him +to bide at Gouda manse.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_696" id="Page_696">[696]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Forgive thee, sweet innocent!" sobbed Gerard, "what have <i>I</i> to +forgive? Thou hadst a foolish froward child to guide to his own +weal, and didst all this for the best. I thank thee and bless thee. +But as thy confessor, all deceit is ill in Heaven's pure eye. Therefore +thou hast done well to confess and report it; and even on thy +confession and penitence the Church through me absolves thee. +Pass to thy graver faults."</p> + +<p>"My graver faults? Alas! alas! Why, what have I done to +compare? I am not an ill woman, not a very ill one. If He can +forgive me deceiving thee, He can well forgive me all the rest ever I +did."</p> + +<p>Being gently pressed, she said she was to blame not to have done +more good in the world. "I had just begun to do a little," she said; +"and now I must go. But I repine not, since 'tis Heaven's will. +Only I am so afeard thou wilt miss me." And at this she could not +restrain her tears, though she tried hard.</p> + +<p>Gerard struggled with his as well as he could; and knowing her +life of piety, purity, and charity, and seeing that she could not in +her present state realize any sin but her having deceived <i>him</i>, gave +her full absolution. Then he put the crucifix in her hand, and, +while he concentrated the oil, bade her fix her mind neither on her +merits nor her demerits, but on Him who died for her on the tree.</p> + +<p>She obeyed him, with a look of confiding love and submission.</p> + +<p>And he touched her eye with the consecrated oil, and prayed +aloud beside her.</p> + +<p>Soon after she dozed.</p> + +<p>He watched beside her, more dead than alive himself.</p> + +<p>When the day broke she awoke, and seemed to acquire some +energy. She begged him to look in her box for her marriage lines, +and for a picture, and bring them both to her. He did so. She +then entreated him by all they had suffered for each other, to ease +her mind by making a solemn vow to execute her dying requests.</p> + +<p>He vowed to obey them to the letter.</p> + +<p>"Then, Gerard, let no creature come here to lay me out. I could +not bear to be stared at; my very corpse would blush. Also I +would not be made a monster of for the worms to sneer at as well +as feed on. Also my very clothes are tainted, and shall to earth +with me. I am a physician's daughter: and ill becomes me kill +folk, being dead, which did so little good to men in the days of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_697" id="Page_697">[697]</a></span> +health; wherefore lap me in lead, the way I am; and bury me deep! +yet not so deep but what one day thou mayest find the way, and lay +thy bones by mine.</p> + +<p>"Whiles I lived I went to Gouda but once or twice a week. It +cost me not to go each day. Let me gain this by dying, to be +always at dear Gouda—in the green kirkyard.</p> + +<p>"Also they do say the spirit hovers where the body lies: I would +have my spirit hover near thee, and the kirkyard is not far from +the manse. I am so afeard some ill will happen thee, Margaret +being gone.</p> + +<p>"And see, with mine own hands I place my marriage lines in my +bosom. Let no living hand move them, on pain of thy curse and +mine. Then, when the angel comes for me at the last day, he shall +say, this is an honest woman, she hath her marriage lines (for you +know I am your lawful wife though holy Church hath come between +us), and he will set me where the honest women be. I will +not sit among ill women, no, not in heaven; for their mind is not +my mind, nor their soul my soul. I have stood, unbeknown, at +my window, and heard their talk."</p> + +<p>For some time she was unable to say any more, but made signs +to him that she had not done.</p> + +<p>At last she recovered her breath, and bade him look at the picture.</p> + +<p>It was the portrait he had made of her when they were young +together, and little thought to part so soon. He held it in his hands +and looked at it, but could scarce see it. He had left it in fragments, +but now it was whole.</p> + +<p>"They cut it to pieces, Gerard. But see, Love mocked at their +knives.</p> + +<p>"I implore thee with my dying breath, let this picture hang ever +in thine eye.</p> + +<p>"I have heard that such as die of the plague, unspotted, yet after +death spots have been known to come out; and, oh, I could not +bear thy last memory of me to be so. Therefore, as soon as the +breath is out of my body, cover my face with this handkerchief, +and look at me no more till we meet again, 'twill not be so very +long. O promise."</p> + +<p>"I promise," said Gerard, sobbing.</p> + +<p>"But look on this picture instead. Forgive me; I am but a +woman. I could not bear my face to lie a foul thing in thy memory.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_698" id="Page_698">[698]</a></span> +Nay, I must have thee still think me as fair as I was true. Hast +called me an angel once or twice; but be just! did I not still tell thee +I was no angel, but only a poor simple woman, that whiles saw +clearer than thou because she looked but a little way, and that loves +thee dearly, and never loved but thee, and now with her dying breath +prays thee indulge her in this, thou that art a man."</p> + +<p>"I will. I will. Each word, each wish is sacred."</p> + +<p>"Bless thee! Bless thee! So then the eyes that now can scarce +see thee, they are so troubled by the pest, and the lips that shall not +touch thee to taint thee, will still be before thee, as they were when +we were young and thou didst love me."</p> + +<p>"When I did love thee, Margaret! Oh, never loved I thee as +now."</p> + +<p>"Hast not told me so of late."</p> + +<p>"Alas! hath love no voice but words? I was a priest; I had +charge of thy soul; the sweet offices of a pure love were lawful; +words of love imprudent at the least. But now the good fight is +won, ah me! Oh my love, if thou hast lived doubting of thy +Gerard's heart, die not so: for never was woman loved so tenderly as +thou this ten years past."</p> + +<p>"Calm thyself, dear one," said the dying woman, with a heavenly +smile. "I know it: only being but a woman, I could not die happy +till I had heard thee say so. Ah, I have pined ten years for those +sweet words. Hast said them; and this is the happiest hour of my +life. I had to die to get them; well, I grudge not the price."</p> + +<p>From this moment a gentle complacency rested on her fading +features. But she did not speak.</p> + +<p>Then Gerard, who had loved her soul so many years, feared lest +she should expire with a mind too fixed on earthly affection. "Oh +my daughter," he cried, "my dear daughter, if indeed thou lovest +me as I love thee, give me not the pain of seeing thee die with thy +pious soul fixed on mortal things.</p> + +<p>"Dearest lamb of all my fold, for whose soul I must answer, oh +think not now of mortal love, but of His who died for thee on the +tree. Oh let thy last look be heavenwards, thy last word a word +of prayer."</p> + +<p>She turned a look of gratitude and obedience on him. "What +saint?" she murmured: meaning, doubtless, "what saint should she +invoke as an intercessor."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_699" id="Page_699">[699]</a></span></p> + +<p>"He to whom the saints themselves do pray."</p> + +<p>She turned on him one more sweet look of love and submission, +and put her pretty hands together in prayer like a child.</p> + +<p>"Jesu!"</p> + +<p>This blessed word was her last. She lay with her eyes heavenwards, +and her hands put together.</p> + +<p>Gerard prayed fervently for her passing spirit. And when he +had prayed a long time with his head averted, not to see her last +breath, all seemed unnaturally still. He turned his head fearfully. +It was so.</p> + +<p>She was gone.</p> + +<p>Nothing left him now, but the earthly shell of as constant, pure, +and loving a spirit, as ever adorned the earth.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER XCIX</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>A PRIEST is never more thoroughly a priest than in the +chamber of death. Gerard did the last offices of the Church +for the departed, just as he should have done them for his +smallest parishioner. He did this mechanically, then sat down +stupefied by the sudden and tremendous blow; and not yet realizing +the pangs of bereavement. Then in a transport of religious enthusiasm +he kneeled and thanked Heaven for her Christian end.</div> + +<p>And then all his thought was to take her away from strangers, +and lay her in his own churchyard. That very evening a covered +cart with one horse started for Gouda, and in it was a coffin, and a +broken-hearted man lying with his arms and chin resting on it.</p> + +<p>The mourner's short-lived energy had exhausted itself in the +necessary preparations, and now he lay crushed, clinging to the cold +lead that held her.</p> + +<p>The man, of whom the cart was hired, walked by the horse's head, +and did not speak to him, and when he baited the horse spoke but +in a whisper, respecting that mute agony. But, when he stopped +for the night, he and the landlord made a well-meaning attempt to +get the mourner away to take some rest and food. But Gerard repulsed +them, and, when they persisted, almost snarled at them, like +a faithful dog, and clung to the cold lead all night. So then they +drew a cloak over him, and left him in peace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_700" id="Page_700">[700]</a></span>.</p> + +<p>And at noon the sorrowful cart came up to the manse, and there +were full a score of parishioners collected with one little paltry +trouble or another. They had missed the parson already. And +when they saw what it was, and saw their healer so stricken down, +they raised a loud wail of grief, and it roused him from his lethargy +of woe, and he saw where he was, and their faces, and tried to +speak to them. "Oh my children! my children!" he cried; but +choked with anguish could say no more.</p> + +<p>Yet the next day, spite of all remonstrances, he buried her himself, +and read the service with a voice that only trembled now and +then. Many tears fell upon her grave. And when the service +ended he stayed there standing like a statue, and the people left the +churchyard out of respect.</p> + +<p>He stood like one in a dream, till the sexton, who was, as most +men are, a fool, began to fill in the grave without giving him due +warning.</p> + +<p>But at the sound of earth falling on her, Gerard uttered a piercing +scream.</p> + +<p>The sexton forbore.</p> + +<p>Gerard staggered and put his hand to his breast. The sexton +supported him, and called for help.</p> + +<p>Jorian Ketel, who lingered near, mourning his benefactress, ran +into the churchyard, and the two supported Gerard into the manse.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Jorian! good Jorian!" said he, "something snapped within +me; I felt it, and I heard it: here Jorian, here:" and he put his +hand to his breast.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER C</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>A FORTNIGHT after this a pale, bowed figure entered the +Dominican convent in the suburbs of Gouda, and sought +speech with brother Ambrose, who governed the convent as +deputy, the prior having lately died, and his successor, though appointed, +not having arrived.</div> + +<p>The sick man was Gerard, come to end life as he began it. He +entered as a novice, on probation; but the truth was, he was a +failing man, and knew it, and came there to die in peace, near kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_701" id="Page_701">[701]</a></span> +and gentle Ambrose his friend, and the other monks to whom his +house and heart had always been open.</p> + +<p>His manse was more than he could bear; it was too full of reminiscences +of her.</p> + +<p>Ambrose, who knew his value, and his sorrow, was not without +a kindly hope of curing him, and restoring him to his parish. With +this view he put him in a comfortable cell over the gateway, and +forbade him to fast or practise any austerities.</p> + +<p>But in a few days the new prior arrived, and proved a very Tartar. +At first he was absorbed in curing abuses, and tightening the +general discipline; but one day hearing the vicar of Gouda had +entered the convent as a novice, he said, "'Tis well; let him first +give up his vicarage then, or go: I'll no fat parsons in my house." +The prior then sent for Gerard, and he went to him; and the moment +they saw one another they both started.</p> + +<p>"Clement!"</p> + +<p>"Jerome!"</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER CI</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>JEROME was as morose as ever in his general character; but +he had somewhat softened towards Gerard. All the time he +was in England he had missed him more than he thought +possible, and since then had often wondered what had become of +him. What he heard in Gouda raised his feeble brother in his +good opinion: above all that he had withstood the Pope and the +Minorites on "the infernal heresy of the immaculate conception," +as he called it. But when one of his young monks told him with +tears in his eyes the cause of Gerard's illness, all his contempt revived. +"Dying for a woman?"</div> + +<p>He determined to avert this scandal: he visited Clement twice +a day in his cell, and tried all his old influence and all his eloquence +to induce him to shake off this unspiritual despondency, and not +rob the Church of his piety and his eloquence at so critical a period.</p> + +<p>Gerard heard him, approved his reasoning, admired his strength, +confessed his own weakness, and continued visibly to wear away to +the land of the leal. One day Jerome told him he had heard his +story, and heard it with pride. "But now," said he, "you spoil it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_702" id="Page_702">[702]</a></span> +all, Clement: for this is the triumph of earthly passion. Better +have yielded to it, and repented, than resist it while she lived, and +succumb under it now body and soul."</p> + +<p>"Dear Jerome," said Clement, so sweetly as to rob his remonstrance +of the tone of remonstrance, "here, I think, you do me some +injustice. Passion there is none: but a deep affection, for which I +will not blush here, since I shall not blush for it in Heaven. Bethink +thee, Jerome; the poor dog that dies of grief on his master's +grave, is he guilty of passion? Neither am I. Passion had saved +my life, and lost my soul. She was my good angel: she sustained +me in my duty and charity; her face encouraged me in the pulpit: +her lips soothed me under ingratitude. She intertwined herself +with all that was good in my life: and after leaning on her so long, +I could not go on alone. And, dear Jerome, believe me I am no +rebel against Heaven. It is God's will to release me. When they +threw the earth upon her poor coffin, something snapped within my +bosom here that mended may not be. I heard it and I felt it. And +from that time, Jerome, no food that I put in my mouth had any +savour. With my eyes bandaged now I could not tell thee which +was bread, and which was flesh, by eating of it."</p> + +<p>"Holy saints!"</p> + +<p>"And again, from that same hour my deep dejection left me, and +I smiled again. I often smile—why? I read it thus: He in +whose hands are the issues of life and death gave me that minute +the great summons; 'twas some cord of life snapped in me. He is +very pitiful. I should have lived unhappy; but He said 'No; +enough is done, enough is suffered; poor, feeble, loving servant, +thy shortcomings are forgiven, thy sorrows touch thine end; come +thou to thy rest!' I come, Lord, I come."</p> + +<p>Jerome groaned. "The Church had ever her holy but feeble +servants," he said. "Now would I give ten years of my life to save +thine. But I see it may not be. Die in peace."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>And so it was that in a few days more Gerard lay a dying in a +frame of mind so holy and happy, that more than one aged saint +was there to garner his dying words. In the evening he had seen +Giles, and begged him not to let poor Jack starve: and to see that +little Gerard's trustees did their duty, and to kiss his parents for +him, and to send Denys to his friends in Burgundy: "Poor thing,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_703" id="Page_703">[703]</a></span> +he will feel so strange here without his comrade." And after that +he had an interview with Jerome alone. What passed between +them was never distinctly known; but it must have been something +remarkable; for Jerome went from the door with his hands crossed +on his breast, his high head lowered, and sighing as he went.</p> + +<p>The two monks, that watched with him till matins, related that +all through the night he broke out from time to time in pious exclamations, +and praises, and thanksgivings: only once they said he +wandered, and thought he saw her walking in green meadows with +other spirits clad in white, and beckoning him; and they all smiled +and beckoned him. And both these monks said (but it might have +been fancy) that just before dawn there came three light taps +against the wall, one after another, very slow; and the dying man +heard them, and said "I come, love, I come."</p> + +<p>This much is certain, that Gerard did utter these words, and prepare +for his departure, having uttered them. He sent for all the +monks who at that hour were keeping vigil. They came, and +hovered like gentle spirits round him with holy words. Some +prayed in silence for him with their faces touching the ground, +others tenderly supported his head. But when one of them said +something about his life of self-denial and charity, he stopped him, +and addressing them all said, "My dear brethren, take note that he, +who here dies so happy, holds not these newfangled doctrines of +man's merit. Oh, what a miserable hour were this to me an if I +did! Nay, but I hold with the Apostles, and their pupils in the +Church, the ancient fathers, that 'we are justified, not by our own +wisdom, or piety, or the works we have done in holiness of heart, +but by faith.'"<a name="FNanchor_N_22" id="FNanchor_N_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_N_22" class="fnanchor">[N]</a></p> + +<p>Then there was a silence, and the monks looked at one another +significantly.</p> + +<p>"Please you sweep the floor," said the dying Christian in a voice +to which all its clearness and force seemed supernaturally restored.</p> + +<p>They instantly obeyed, not without a sentiment of awe and curiosity.</p> +<div class="figleft" style="width: 406px;"> +<img src="images/illus745.jpg" width="406" height="600" alt="THE DEATH OF GERARD" title="" /> +<span class="caption">THE DEATH OF GERARD</span> +</div> +<p>"Make me a great cross with wood ashes."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_704" id="Page_704">[704]</a></span></p> +<p>They strewed the ashes in form of a great cross upon the floor.</p> + +<p>"Now lay me down on it: for so will I die."</p> + +<p>And they took him gently from his bed, and laid him on the cross +of wood ashes.</p> + +<p>"Shall we spread out thine arms, dear brother?"</p> + +<p>"Now God forbid! Am I worthy of that?"</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>He lay silent, but with his eyes raised in ecstasy.</p> + +<p>Presently he spoke half to them, half to himself. "Oh," he said +with a subdued but concentrated rapture, "I feel it buoyant. It +lifts me floating in the sky whence my merits had sunk me like +lead."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Day broke; and displayed his face cast upward in silent rapture, +and his hands together; like Margaret's.</p> + +<p>And just about the hour she died he spoke his last word in this +world.</p> + +<p>"Jesu!"</p> + +<p>And even with that word—he fell asleep.</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>They laid him out for his last resting-place.</p> + +<p>Under his linen they found a horse-hair shirt. "Ah!" cried the +young monks, "behold a saint!"</p> + +<p>Under the hair cloth they found a long thick tress of auburn +hair.</p> + +<p>They started, and were horrified; and a babel of voices arose, +some condemning, some excusing.</p> + +<p>In the midst of which Jerome came in, and, hearing the dispute, +turned to an ardent young monk called Basil, who was crying +scandal the loudest. "Basil," said he, "is she alive or dead that +owned this hair?"</p> + +<p>"How may I know, father?"</p> + +<p>"Then for aught you know it may be the relic of a saint?"</p> + +<p>"Certes it may be," said Basil sceptically.</p> + +<p>"You have then broken our rule, which saith 'Put ill construction +on no act done by a brother which can be construed innocently.' +Who are you to judge such a man as this was? go to your cell, and +stir not out for a week by way of penance."</p> + +<p>He then carried off the lock of hair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_705" id="Page_705">[705]</a></span></p> + +<p>And when the coffin was to be closed, he cleared the cell: and put +the tress upon the dead man's bosom. "There, Clement," said he +to the dead face. And set himself a penance for doing it; and +nailed the coffin up himself.</p> + +<p>The next day Gerard was buried in Gouda churchyard. The +monks followed him in procession from the convent. Jerome, who +was evidently carrying out the wishes of the deceased, read the service. +The grave was a deep one, and at the bottom of it was a lead +coffin. Poor Gerard's, light as a feather (so wasted was he), was +lowered, and placed by the side of it.</p> + +<p>After the service Jerome said a few words to the crowd of parishioners +that had come to take the last look at their best friend. When +he spoke of the virtues of the departed, loud wailing and weeping +burst forth, and tears fell upon the coffin like rain.</p> + +<p>The monks went home. Jerome collected them in the refectory +and spoke to them thus: "We have this day laid a saint in the earth. +The convent will keep his trentals, but will feast, not fast; for our +good brother is freed from the burden of the flesh; his labours are +over, and he has entered into his joyful rest. I alone shall fast, +and do penance: for to my shame I say it, I was unjust to him, and +knew not his worth, till it was too late. And you, young monks, +be not curious to inquire whether a lock he bore on his bosom was +a token of pure affection, or the relic of a saint; but remember the +heart he wore beneath: most of all, fix your eyes upon his life and +conversation; and follow them an ye may: for he was a holy man."</p> + +<div><br /> </div> + +<p>Thus after life's fitful fever these true lovers were at peace. The +grave, kinder to them than the Church, united them for ever: and +now a man of another age and nation, touched with their fate, has +laboured to build their tombstone, and rescue them from long and +unmerited oblivion.</p> + +<p>He asks for them your sympathy, but not your pity.</p> + +<p>No, put this story to a wholesome use.</p> + +<p>Fiction must often give false views of life and death. Here as +it happens, curbed by history, she gives you true ones. Let the +barrier, that kept these true lovers apart, prepare you for this, that +here on earth there will nearly always be some obstacle or other to +your perfect happiness; to their early death apply your Reason +and your Faith, by way of exercise and preparation. For if you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_706" id="Page_706">[706]</a></span> +cannot bear to be told that these died young, who, had they lived a +hundred years, would still be dead, how shall you bear to see the +gentle, the loving, and the true, glide from your own bosom to the +grave, and fly from your house to heaven?</p> + +<p>Yet this is in store for you. In every age the Master of life and +death, who is kinder as well as wiser than we are, has transplanted +to heaven, young, earth's sweetest flowers.</p> + +<p>I ask your sympathy then for their rare constancy, and pure +affection, and then cruel separation by a vile heresy<a name="FNanchor_O_23" id="FNanchor_O_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_O_23" class="fnanchor">[O]</a> in the bosom +of the Church; but not your pity for their early, but happy end.</p> + +<p>Beati sunt qui in Domino moriuntur.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CHAPTER CII</h2> + + +<div class='cap'>IN compliance with a custom I despise, but have not the spirit to +resist, I linger on the stage to pick up the smaller fragments +of humanity I have scattered about: <i>i. e.</i> some of them, for the +wayside characters have no claim on me; they have served their turn +if they have persuaded the reader that Gerard travelled from +Holland to Rome through human beings, and not through a population +of dolls.</div> + +<p>Eli and Catherine lived to a great age: lived so long that both +Gerard and Margaret grew to be dim memories. Giles also was +longævous; he went to the court of Bavaria, and was alive there at +ninety, but had somehow turned into bones and leather, trumpet +toned.</p> + +<p>Cornelis, free from all rivals, and forgiven long ago by his mother, +who clung to him more and more now all her brood was scattered, +waited, and waited, and waited, for his parents' decease. But +Catherine's shrewd word came true: ere she and her mate wore out, +this worthy rusted away. At sixty-five he lay dying of old age in +his mother's arms, a hale woman of eighty-six. He had lain unconscious +a while; but came to himself <i>in articulo mortis</i>, and seeing +her near him, told her how he would transform the shop and premises +as soon as they should be his. "Yes, my darling," said the +poor old woman, soothingly; and in another minute he was clay:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_707" id="Page_707">[707]</a></span> +and that clay was followed to the grave by all the feet whose shoes +he had waited for.</p> + +<p>Denys, broken-hearted at his comrade's death, was glad to return +to Burgundy, and there a small pension the court allowed him +kept him until unexpectedly he inherited a considerable sum from +a relation. He was known in his native place for many years as a +crusty old soldier, who could tell good stories of war, when he chose; +and a bitter railer against women.</p> + +<p>Jerome, disgusted with northern laxity, retired to Italy, and, +having high connections, became at seventy a mitred abbot. He +put on the screw of discipline: his monks revered and hated him. +He ruled with iron rod ten years. And one night he died, alone; +for he had not found the way to a single heart. The Vulgate was +on his pillow, and the crucifix in his hand, and on his lips something +more like a smile, than was ever seen there while he lived; so that, +methinks, at that awful hour he was not quite alone. Requiescat +in pace. The Master he served has many servants, and they have +many minds, and now and then a faithful one will be a surly one, +as it is in these our mortal mansions.</p> + +<p>The yellow-haired laddie, Gerard Gerardson, belongs not to Fiction +but to History. She has recorded his birth in other terms +than mine. Over the tailor's house in the Brede Kirk Straet she +has inscribed:—</p> + +<div class='center'> +"Hæc est parva domus natus quâ magnus Erasmus";<br /> +</div> + +<div class='unindent'>and she has written half a dozen lives of him. But there is something +left for her yet to do. She has no more comprehended magnum +Erasmum, than any other pigmy comprehends a giant, or +partisan a judge.</div> + +<p>First scholar and divine of his epoch, he was also the heaven-born +dramatist of his century. Some of the best scenes in this new +book are from his mediæval pen, and illumine the pages where they +come; for the words of a genius, so high as his are not born to die: +their immediate work upon mankind fulfilled, they may seem to lie +torpid; but, at each fresh shower of intelligence Time pours upon +their students, they prove their immortal race: they revive, they +spring from the dust of great libraries; they bud, they flower, they +fruit, they seed, from generation to generation, and from age to +age.<br /><br /></p> + +<div class='footnotes'> +<h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> Sinclair was a singer; and complained to the manager that in the operatic +play of Rob Roy he had a multitude of mere words to utter between the +songs. 'Cut, my boy, cut!' said the manager. On this vox et p. n. cut +Scott, and doubtless many of his cuts would not have discredited the condensers +of evidence. But only one of his master-strokes has reached posterity. His +melodious organs had been taxed with this sentence: "Rashleigh is my cousin; +but, for what reason I cannot divine, he is my bitterest enemy." This he condensed +and delivered thus:—"Rashleigh is my cousin, but for what reason I +cannot divine."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a> Anglice, a Thing-em-bob.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a> Pietro Vanucci, and Andrea, did not recognize him without his beard. The +fact is, that the beard, which has never known a razor, grows in a very picturesque +and characteristic form, and becomes a feature in the face; so that +its removal may in some cases be an effectual disguise.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_D_4" id="Footnote_D_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_D_4"><span class="label">[D]</span></a> "Loricatus," vide Ducange, in voce</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_E_5" id="Footnote_E_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_E_5"><span class="label">[E]</span></a> It requires now-a-days a strong effort of the imagination to realize the +effect on poor people who had never seen them before, of such sentences as this: +"Blessed are the poor," &c.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_F_6" id="Footnote_F_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_F_6"><span class="label">[F]</span></a> The primitive writer was so interpreted by others besides Clement; and, in +particular by Peter of Blois, a divine of the twelfth century, whose comment is +noteworthy, as he himself was a forty-year hermit.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_7" id="Footnote_1_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_7"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Beat down Satan under our feet.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_8" id="Footnote_2_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_8"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Up, Hearts!</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_9" id="Footnote_3_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_9"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Oh God our refuge and strength.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_10" id="Footnote_4_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_10"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Oh! Lamb of God, that takest away the Sins of the world, have mercy upon +me!</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_11" id="Footnote_5_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_11"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Oh! Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy upon us.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_6_12" id="Footnote_6_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_12"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> From the assaults of demons—from the wrath to come—from everlasting +damnation— +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 32em;">Deliver us O Lord!</span><br /> +</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_7_13" id="Footnote_7_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_13"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> See the English collect, St. Michael and all Angels.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_8_14" id="Footnote_8_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_14"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Of whom may we seek succour, but of thee, Oh Lord, who for our sins art +justly displeased (and that torrent of prayer, the following verse).</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_G_15" id="Footnote_G_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_G_15"><span class="label">[G]</span></a> Dr. Dickson, author of <i>Fallacies of the Faculty</i>, etc.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_H_16" id="Footnote_H_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_H_16"><span class="label">[H]</span></a> It is related of a mediæval hermit, that being offered a garment made of +cats' skins, he rejected it, saying, "I have heard of a lamb of God, but I never +heard of a cat of God."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_I_17" id="Footnote_I_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_I_17"><span class="label">[I]</span></a> More than one hermit had received a present of this kind.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_J_18" id="Footnote_J_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_J_18"><span class="label">[J]</span></a> Query? "looking-glass."</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_K_19" id="Footnote_K_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_K_19"><span class="label">[K]</span></a> Craft. He means trade or profession.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_L_20" id="Footnote_L_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_L_20"><span class="label">[L]</span></a> I think she means prejudice.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_M_21" id="Footnote_M_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_M_21"><span class="label">[M]</span></a> Let me not be understood to apply this to the bare outline of the relation. +Many bishops and priests, and not a few popes had wives and children as laymen; +and entering orders were parted from the wives and not from the children. +But in the case before the reader are the additional features of a strong surviving +attachment on both sides, and of neighbourhood, besides that here the man +had been led into holy orders by a false statement of the woman's death. On a +summary of all the essential features, the situation was, to the best of my belief, +unique.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_N_22" id="Footnote_N_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_N_22"><span class="label">[N]</span></a> He was citing from Clement of Rome— +</p><p> +'Thy di heantôn dikaioumetha oude dia tês hêmeteras sophias, ê eusebeias, ê ergôn +ôn kateirgasametha en hosiotêti kardias, alla dia tês pisteôs.'——<i>Epist. ad +Corinth.</i>, i. 32.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_O_23" id="Footnote_O_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_O_23"><span class="label">[O]</span></a> Celibacy of the Clergy, an invention truly fiendish.</p></div> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class='tnote'> +<div class='center'><b>Transcriber's Notes:</b></div> + +<p>Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Archaic spelling, where recognized, such as "Ilias" for +"Iliad" was retained. Corrections for others listed below. Varied hyphenation +was retained. Text uses both Bergundy and Burgundy.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_18">18</a>, "fiends" changed to "friends" (the friends go with him)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_72">72</a>, "fortell" changed to "foretell" (who may foretell)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_77">77</a>, "gladened" changed to "gladdened" (the urchin was gladdened)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_80">80</a>, "he" changed to "be" (be in Tergou)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_84">84</a>, "contemptuuously" changed to "contemptuously" (said Martin contemptuuusly)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_86">86</a>, "befel" changed to "befell" (if evil befell him)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_123">123</a>, "exit" changed to "exited" (and exited with an injured)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_135">135</a> and <a href="#Page_173">173</a>, "Gerald" changed to "Gerard" (Gerard more than thunder) (waked by +Gerard moving)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, "gruffy" changed to "gruffly" (said gruffly, "Good morrow.")</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_147">147</a>, word "to" inserted into text. Orginal read (Denys whispered Gerard)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_153">153</a>, "brethern" changed to "brethren" (my learned brethren)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_164">164</a>, "assulting" changed to "assaulting" (assaulting a Dusseldorf)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_165">165</a>, "pow" changed to "paw" (Samson's hairy paw)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_188">188</a>, "Deny's" changed to "Denys's" (Denys's infinite amusement)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_210">210</a>, "sorowfully" changed to "sorrowfully" (said Denys, sorrowfully)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_231">231</a>, "worldy" changed to "worldly" (piety and worldly prudence)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_271">271</a>, "I'l" changed to "I'll" (I'll tell her tho)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_275">275</a>, repeated line of text deleted. Original read:</p> + +<div class='poem2'> +being sincere. Dierich Brower, who was discovered at "The Three<br /> +Kings," making a chatterbox drunk in order to worm out of him the<br /> +whereabouts of Martin Wittenhaagen, was actually taken and flung<br /> +into a horse-pond, and threatened with worse usage, should he ever<br /> +show his face in the burgh again; and finally, municipal jealousy<br /> +being roused, the burgomaster of Sevenbergen sent a formal missive<br /> +being sincere. Dierich Brower, who was discovered at "The Three<br /> +to the burgomaster of Tergou, reminding him he had overstepped<br /> +</div> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, "Itay" changed to "Italy" (will never leave Italy)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_287">287</a>, "occured" changed to "occurred" (unlooked-for interruption occurred)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_298">298</a>, "occurence" changed to "occurrence" (occurrence as a miracle)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_300">300</a>, "condensd" changed to "condensed" (Covered by their condensed)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_301">301</a>, "beseigers" changed to "besiegers" (besiegers got spiteful)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_311">311</a>, "Maragaret" changed to "Margaret" (soon at Margaret Van Eyck's house)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_315">315</a>, "wondred" changed to "wondered" (your ways, and wondered)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_364">364</a>, "mesage" changed to "message" (message to Tergou)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_380">380</a>, "be" changed to "he" (he bade me untruss)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_409">409</a>, word "had" added to text (Ere I had gone)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_414">414</a>, "beseiged" changed to "besieged" (where they besieged)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_414">414</a>, "beseigers" changed to "besiegers" (their besiegers, and hashed)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_418">418</a>, "patriach" changed to "patriarch" (one the patriarch)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_421">421</a>, the word "thof" appears. The transcriber could find no meaning +for this word nor any word or words that would be appropriate, although it might be +a dialectic combination of "though if". It was left +as printed. (Writing, thof it had no sale)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_428">428</a>, "runing" changed to "running" (only kept running)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_436">436</a>, word "the" added to text (out of the window)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_464">464</a>, "blazé" changed to "blasé" (blasé. A high bred)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_491">491</a>, "carressed" changed to "caressed" (young tones, caressed)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_536">536</a>, "Wo" changed to "We" (We love our own)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_537">537</a>, "forseen" changed to "foreseen" (Heaven hath foreseen)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_540">540</a>, "aim" changed to "am" (vile I am)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_561">561</a>, "bethrothal" changed to "betrothal" (recognizing her betrothal)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_570">570</a>, "Maragret" changed to "Margaret" (Margaret said she thought)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_577">577</a>, "liker" changed to "like" (like iron cobwebs)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_594">594</a>, the footnote at the bottom of this page had no anchor in the text. +The transcriber placed the anchor on the last paragraph from the previous page +as the text seemed to fit better.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_605">605</a>, "pilows" changed to "pillows" (pillows, lay his deadly)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_608">608</a>, "reconcilation" changed to "reconciliation" (least of a reconciliation)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_650">650</a>, "cubboard" changed to "cupboard" (in the little cupboard)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_622">622</a>, "marrige" changed to "marriage" (me my marriage lines)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_639">639</a>, first footnote missing anchor in text. Anchor placed after +Greek quotation. Also footnote switched from letters to numbers here.</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_642">642</a>, "creasli" changed to "creasti" (Quae tu creasti)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_645">645</a>, "litle" changed to "little" (little water every day)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_653">653</a>, "ectasy" changed to "ecstasy" (gazed with ecstasy)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_653">653</a>, "wonderfuly" changed to "wonderfully" (wonderfully intelligent for)</p> + +<p>Page <a href="#Page_659">659</a>, "croning" changed to "crooning" (he stopped crooning)</p> + +</div> + + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Cloister and the Hearth, by Charles Reade + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH *** + +***** This file should be named 38895-h.htm or 38895-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/8/8/9/38895/ + +Produced by Emmy, Juliet Sutherland and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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