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diff --git a/old/1366-h/1366-h.htm b/old/1366-h/1366-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..abcea76 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/1366-h/1366-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,40663 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!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" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Cloister and the Hearth, by Charles Reade + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +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 + +Author: Charles Reade + +Release Date: February 15, 2006 [EBook #1366] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH *** + + + + +Produced by Neil McLachlan and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THERE IS AN ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WITH LINKED TABLE OF CONTENTS WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/38895"> +[# 38895 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH + </h1> + <h2> + by Charles Reade + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> AUTHOR'S PREFACE </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER XIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER XVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER XIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER XX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER XXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0022"> CHAPTER XXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0023"> CHAPTER XXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0024"> CHAPTER XXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0025"> CHAPTER XXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0026"> CHAPTER XXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0027"> CHAPTER XXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0028"> CHAPTER XXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0029"> CHAPTER XXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0030"> CHAPTER XXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0031"> CHAPTER XXXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0032"> CHAPTER XXXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0033"> CHAPTER XXXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0034"> CHAPTER XXXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0035"> CHAPTER XXXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0036"> CHAPTER XXXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0037"> CHAPTER XXXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0038"> CHAPTER XXXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0039"> CHAPTER XXXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0040"> CHAPTER XL </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0041"> CHAPTER XLI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0042"> CHAPTER XLII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0043"> CHAPTER XLIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0044"> CHAPTER XLIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0045"> CHAPTER XLV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0046"> CHAPTER XLVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0047"> CHAPTER XLVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0048"> CHAPTER XLVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0049"> CHAPTER XLIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0050"> CHAPTER L </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0051"> CHAPTER LI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0052"> CHAPTER LI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0053"> CHAPTER LIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0054"> CHAPTER LIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0055"> CHAPTER LV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0056"> CHAPTER LVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0057"> CHAPTER LVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0058"> CHAPTER LVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0059"> CHAPTER LIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0060"> CHAPTER LX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0061"> CHAPTER LXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0062"> CHAPTER XLII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0063"> CHAPTER LXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0064"> CHAPTER LXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0065"> CHAPTER LXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0066"> CHAPTER LXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0067"> CHAPTER LXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0068"> CHAPTER LXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0069"> CHAPTER LXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0070"> CHAPTER LXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0071"> CHAPTER LXXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0072"> CHAPTER LXXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0073"> CHAPTER LXXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0074"> CHAPTER LXXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0075"> CHAPTER LXXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0076"> CHAPTER LXXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0077"> CHAPTER LXXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0078"> CHAPTER LXXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0079"> CHAPTER LXXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0080"> CHAPTER LXXX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0081"> CHAPTER LXXXI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0082"> CHAPTER LXXXII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0083"> CHAPTER LXXXIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0084"> CHAPTER LXXXIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0085"> CHAPTER LXXXV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0086"> CHAPTER LXXXVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0087"> CHAPTER LXXXVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0088"> CHAPTER LXXXVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0089"> CHAPTER LXXXIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0090"> CHAPTER XC </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0091"> CHAPTER XCI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0092"> CHAPTER XCII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0093"> CHAPTER XCIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0094"> CHAPTER XCIV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0095"> CHAPTER XCV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0096"> CHAPTER XCVI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0097"> CHAPTER XCVII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0098"> CHAPTER XCVIII </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0099"> CHAPTER XCIX </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0100"> CHAPTER C </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Etext Notes: + +1. Greek passages are enclosed in angled brackets, e.g. {methua}, and + have been transliterated according to:alpha A, a + beta B, b + gamma G, g + delta D, d + epsilon E, e + zeta Z, z + eta Y, y + theta Th, th + iota I, i + kappa K, k + lamda L, l + mu M, m + nu N, n + omicron O, o + pi P, p + rho R, r + sigma S, s + tau T, t + phi Ph, ph + chi Ch, ch + psi Ps, ps + xi X, x + upsilon U, u + omega W, w + +2. All diacritics have been removed from this version + +3. References for the Author's footnotes are enclosed in square +brackets(e.g. (1)) and collected at the end of the chapter they occur +in. + +4. There are 100 chapters in the book, each starting with CHAPTER R, +where R is the chapter number expressed as a Roman numeral. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AUTHOR'S PREFACE + </h2> + <p> + A small portion of this tale appeared in Once a Week, July-September, + 1859, under the title of “A Good Fight.” + </p> + <p> + After writing it, I took wider views of the subject, and also felt uneasy + at having deviated unnecessarily 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> + <p> + CHARLES READE <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + 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 hail-stones striking him but to glance off his bosom: + nor can he understand them; for epitomes are not narratives, as skeletons + are not human figures. + </p> + <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> + <p> + There is a musty chronicle, written in intolerable 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> + <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. 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 as 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 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. + </p> + <p> + “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” + </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> + <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 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 would 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 that + 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 robemaker, 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> + 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> + <p> + Young Gerard was for many years of his life a son apart and 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 wrapped 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 neighbours, 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 neighbouring 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 head and blushed: he had suspected as much himself, + but mistrusted his judgment in so delicate a matter. “But, my son,” said + an 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. 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 lie 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 + towards 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 all rarities, except the humdrum virtues. + For anything singularly pretty or diabolically ugly, this was your + customer. The best of him was, he was openhanded 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 orfevrerie 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.” + </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 his + 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. His shoes were + pointed, in moderation, and secured by a strap that passed under the + hollow of the 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 were 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 + network 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 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + “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 meaning look, + Margaret was greatly relieved, and smiled gaily on the speaker. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile 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 a roadside 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 Van Swieten 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 had 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 big ear again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + “The soup is hot,” said Gerard. + </h3> + <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 into 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 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> + (Margaret. “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 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 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 Phoebus, 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 bye, 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 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; your + 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.' + </p> + <p> + “You know me not. I waste nothing. It is odds but I make a hairpin 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 manoeuvre 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 Hooch + 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 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 Hooch 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 + courtyard. 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 endeavouring 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 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 round 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 + illae lacrimae.” + </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, 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 a 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 shall see.” + </p> + <p> + “We will, and speedily.” And with this, Gerard raised a voice of + astounding volume and power, and routed so that the whole street rang: + </p> + <p> + “Ho! PHILIP, EARL OF HOLLAND!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you mad?” cried the porter. + </p> + <p> + “HERE IS ONE OF YOUR VARLETS DEFIES YOU.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush!” + </p> + <p> + “AND WILL NOT LET YOUR GUESTS PASS IN.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! murder! The Dukes 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> + “OPEN THE GATE, YE KNAVES! WAY THERE FOR GERARD ELIASSOEN AND HIS COMPANY! + (The fiends go with him!)” + </p> + <p> + The gate swung open as by magic. Eight soldiers lowered their pikes + halfway, 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 past the guarded portal, a few steps brought the trio upon a scene of + Oriental luxury. The courtyard 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 artificial ones of gold, silver, and wax, + hung pendant, 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 round 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 new-comers 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 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 bloodshot, 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, bares, lamb, poultry, etc., 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 wildfowl. 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 painted in the interstices of + the bas-reliefs; castles with 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 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 under-tone, 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> + Meanwhile, 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> + <p> + Margaret leaned back and half closed her eyes, and murmured to Gerard: + “What a lovely scene! the warm sun, the green shade, 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 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 courtyard rang again with their delicate harmony. + </p> + <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 fairest of all, to my + eye, is your lovely hair in its silver frame, and the setting sun kissing + it. It minds me of what the Vulgate praises for beauty, 'an apple of gold + in a network of silver,' and oh, 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> + “Oh, fie! it is wicked to talk so. Compare a poor, coarse-favoured girl + like me with the Queen of Heaven? Oh, 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> + “Oh, 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. Oh! 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 try and forgive you—you are so good in other + respects; but then you must promise me never to say you—to say that + 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 is + the use resisting force. She turned her head away, and her long eyelashes + drooped sweetly. Gerard lost nothing by his promise. Words were not needed + 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 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> + <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 while they were drying: yet they did not take long. + </p> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Oh, the merry days, the merry days when we were young. + Oh, the merry days, the merry days when we were young. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + 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: + </p> + <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 you will,” 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. + </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. + </p> + <p> + “But if your young man should be thoughtless, and go play, and Gerard miss + him?” + </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> + <p> + Hans Cloterman sat waiting for Gerard, solemn and businesslike. 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 nommement + 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> + <p> + The seneschal led Gerard through several passages to the door of the + pavilion, where some young noblemen, embroidered and 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 then, + 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 his 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 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 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 would 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 + </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 by Italian songsters, though + every jackal in India delivers them gratis to his customers all night, and + sometimes gets shot for them, and always deserves 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 a 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> + <p> + The Countess resumed: “My old friend request 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 Liege. The Bishop of Liege is a beautiful bishop. + What! do you not remember him, mamma, that day we were at Liege? he was + braver than grandpapa 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 birth dear mamma; and I am sure he is good 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.” + </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 Liege.” + </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 the 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 fan-lights 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.” 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The Hollanders were always an original and leading people. They claim to + have invented printing (wooden type), oil-painting, liberty, banking, + gardening, etc. 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Amphora coepit + Institui; currente rota cur urceus exit?” + </pre> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 tale-bearer,” 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 + eyes 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 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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mother! oh, Kate! when I saw the goldsmiths' work, I had liked to + have fallen on the floor. I 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 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 neighbours. 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 + 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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis labour, and skilled labour to boot; and that is better paid in all + crafts than rude labour, sweat or no sweat. Besides, 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> + “Ah 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 these three years, and I know 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> + <p> + It was night when the servant returned. + </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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <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 + ally 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.” + </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 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> + <p> + “An apple of gold in a network of silver.” + </p> + <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 + to stay supper. And Margaret disappeared; and Gerard had a nice learned + chat with Peter; and Margaret reappeared with her hair in her 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + One bright morning unwonted velvet shone, unwonted feathers waved, and + horses' hoofs glinted and ran 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. + </p> + <p> + Besides his own suite, he was attended by several servants of the Duke of + Burgundy, 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 giant 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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 the top of the + balcony; so he stopped and began to make fun of him. + </p> + <p> + “Hallo! brother!” squeaked he, “I had nearly passed without seeing thee.” + </p> + <p> + “You 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 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 + it; 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. + </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 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 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 father + of a family than a priest: he is for ever with Margaret, Peter Brandt's + red-haired girl, and 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 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. 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, over-powered 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 + a 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> + “Oh, 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 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 has 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 and + bellowing for? It is vexing—it is angering, but it is not like + death, not 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> + <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 is it may appear to 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'It doth joy double, + And halveth trouble,' +</pre> + <p> + runs the byword. And so I have found it, sweetheart. Ah! here comes the + young fool.” + </p> + <p> + Catherine trembled, and held her husband's hand tight. + </p> + <p> + 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 chase; 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 Dukes side. The stipend was four merks 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.” + </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 battlefield 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. “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 skyward 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 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. 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 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 + griped 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 pair 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 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 still, + 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 bloodstained, 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?” + </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 the bow. The air at the same time filled with the + tongues of the hounds: 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <p> + 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 to 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 towards 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. + </p> + <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 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 the father; “you know why we are here.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Gerard!” said his mother, with a voice full of reproach 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: 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 wroth, 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 confidant. 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 that they were all at home, Catherine and all, + Cornelis said: “Our Gerard wed Margaret Brandt? Why, it is hunger marrying + thirst.” + </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 folks 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: + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! my second mother,” said Gerard, “I did not dare to tell you my + folly.” + </p> + <p> + “What folly? 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 you 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 pair 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, + </p> + <p> + “Les femmes sont tres braves avec le peur d'autrui.” + </p> + <p> + By this trait Gerard now profited. Margaret and Reicht were agreed that a + man 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 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 liked to have burst out crying: he was so changed. + </p> + <p> + “And I'll be bound the others keep their colour; ah, 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 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!” + </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 + here 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, 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 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're mistaken. Reicht, fetch me that!” 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 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 him in a hurry.” + </p> + <p> + This and several other receipts, quae 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 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> + <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 vexed, how poor he + must be 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. Oh, 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> + “Oh, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <p> + 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 cure 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 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. + </p> + <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 cure 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 cure, and told + him he had made a ridiculous mistake, which a sight of the parties had + rectified. On this the cure 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-idea'd curs were + ready to tear any one to death that 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. 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> + <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 was settled they should retire + into Flanders for a few weeks until the storm should be blown over at + Tergou. The cure 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 cure 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, father,” 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 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 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> + <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 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 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 manoeuvre, 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 some time 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 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 housedoor 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> + <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> + <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> + <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. 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 a 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 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 + manoeuvre 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 moonlight. + 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 minute his feet were at their hands. They seized 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> + <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!” + </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 up the wall! it is going up the wall! + Its head is on fire. Up 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <p> + 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 a mischief in + that prison, his escape from which could hardly be known. + </p> + <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 halfway 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 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 beatae Mariae, 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 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 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> + Margaret (panting). “Why, it is a woman!” + </p> + <p> + Kate (quivering). “Why, it is a woman!” + </p> + <p> + Margaret. “How you scared me!” + </p> + <p> + Kate. “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 YOU?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we are on the same errand? Ah! you are his good sister, Kate!” + </p> + <p> + “And you are Margaret Brandt.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. + </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> + “PARCHMENT!—PARCHMENT!—PARCHMENT!” + </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 + 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 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 ill 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.” + </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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <p> + Ghysbrecht Van Swieten kept the key of Gerard's prison in his pouch. He + waited till ten of the clock ere he visited 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. + </p> + <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 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 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 burghs + 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?” + </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 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 took 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 it more than the skin of any 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.” + </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 towards 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + They sat hand in hand till midnight, now deploring their hard fate, 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 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. 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 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> + <p> + A heavy knock fell on the door. + </p> + <p> + And on the hearts within. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <p> + 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 was 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. + </p> + <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 the place where the nick of + the arrow frets it. + </p> + <p> + “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. Any way, 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's 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 outwitted us bearded men; and so I + told the burgomaster, but he would not hear 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 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. + </p> + <p> + 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> + <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 Dierich Brower'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. + </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 battlefield 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 eye + 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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 soi-disant 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. + </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> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Why, mates, was the old fellow making ready to shoot at us?” + </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. + </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 over head. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, here he comes, at last. Well, Jorian, what is to do now up there?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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> + “THERE IS LIFE IN HIM!” said Jorian Ketel to himself. + </p> + <p> + Margaret caught the words instantly, though only muttered, and it was 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. + </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 have done you two a good turn; 'twas I + told you in the church whither we had to take him. Besides, what is + Dierich Brower to me? I'll see him hanged ere I'll tell him. But I wish + you'd tell me 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 made 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 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 shortsighted our shrewdest counsels. + </p> + <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, 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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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 downstairs, saddled his mule, and rode to the “Three Kings” at + Sevenbergen. There he found his men sleeping, some on the 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. + </p> + <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.” + </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 upstairs, and then + suddenly one of the men gave a shout, and pointed through Peter's window, + which was open. The others 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIX + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <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. + </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 aught 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 ardour 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. + </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.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Gerard!” said Margaret, “you are going to a distant land. We need the + goodwill 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 vagabond'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 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 not 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!” cried Martin to Margaret scornfully, “he is a priest at + heart still—and when he is not in ire, St. Paul, what a milksop!” + </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 misfortune 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.” + </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> + “Why, Martin, is this anything? You look pale.” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful!” said Martin, with a sickly sneer. “He asks me is it anything? + 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.” <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XX + </h2> + <p> + 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 ungenteel 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. + </p> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + A cry more tunable + Was never halloed to, nor cheered with horn, + In Crete, in Sparta, or in Thessaly. +</pre> + <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 her. + </p> + <p> + “But 'twill be little use in your hands,” said he. + </p> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “Come, be a man!” she said, “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> + 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 dog's 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. 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 with 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. Gerald 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 the 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 back out of sight by hard running. Ah!” + </p> + <p> + He stooped 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 openmouthed 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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXI + </h2> + <p> + Speech is the familiar vent of human thoughts; but there are emotions so + simple and overpowering, that they rush out not in words, but 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. + </p> + <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. + </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 manoeuvre, 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 thunder-bolt had + fallen on them, they were all lying on the ground, mule and all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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. + </p> + <p> + When he had been at peep-ho 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 ventre a terre. + </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 crossbow 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 strewed with dramatis personae. + </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 crestfallen back to look after their chief and + their winged bloodhound. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIII + </h2> + <p> + 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 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. + </p> + <p> + But presently Gerard found stains of blood on Margaret's ankles. + </p> + <p> + “Martin! Martin! help! they have wounded her: the crossbow!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” said Margaret, smiling to reassure 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 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> + <p> + He caught her in his arms, and spoke words of comfort to her; 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 around her, and so, supporting her + frame, which, from being strong like a boy, 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 a 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 + companions 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 his guide, half sulkily; “mayhap the one you are going to + will like you no better; any way, 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 her it would cost me nought to leave you for + ever, and all my kith and kin, and—the mother that bore me, and—my + playmates, and my little native town. Farewell, fatherland—welcome + the wide world! omne so-lum for-ti p p-at-r-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> + <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 + neighbour 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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?” + </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 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> + <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. + </p> + <p> + 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 rustle 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 house, with lighted candles and loud + voices inside it. He looked up to see if there was a signboard. There was + none. “Not an inn after all!” said he sadly. “No matter; what Christian + would turn a dog out into this 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 call “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 aerial 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. + </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 were 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.'” + </p> + <p> + “The beds are not come yet,” replied the landlady. “You will sleep when + the rest do. Inns are not built for one.” + </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. “May 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 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 farmyard. 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.e. 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 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 nightcap,” 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. + </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 lofty 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 overnight. + </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 guestchamber, 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 in mid 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. 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.e., 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. + </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 the 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 + shreads 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 faite avec l'eau et linge du pays on allait le + noircir a ne se reconnaitre plus.” + </p> + <p> + “Tiens, tiens!” cried the soldier, “v'la qui parle le Francais 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-by he stalked gloomily in with a hunch of bread + apiece, and exit 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 kid's 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 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 Gallicize the discussion. He patted his + interpreter on the back. “C'est bien, mon gars; plus fin que toi n'est pas + bete,” 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 round, 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 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 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, “Yes, 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 dumfounded, 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 not go to bed, and would 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 bedfellow'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 + 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 ne se mangent pas + entre eux.'” + </p> + <p> + “Aye but, sir soldier, I am not a wolf; and thou knowest, a 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 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> + <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 make little incidents wherever they go. He + passed nobody without addressing them. “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 + crossbow, 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 ahatching 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 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 farmyard, 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 fourscore, 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> + <p> + “Denys, where are you?” whined Gerard. + </p> + <p> + “Here, on her other side.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” + </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 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 Macon 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.” + </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 inexpertis.” + </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 + sante, madame; et sans rancune;” and the dog drank her milk to her own + health. + </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 finger-nails 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. + </p> + <p> + “Then let these alone, sith they are not to your taste,” retorted Gerard. + “What, is there no sweet face in Burgundy 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 doorstep 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 waved into a seat, while + almost at the same instant an eager shopman flings himself half across the + counter in a semi-circle to learn their commands, can best appreciate this + mediaeval 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> + <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!” + </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 I will 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 crossbow 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 + guineahen 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 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 + neighbour's shop, the tailor's, and sitting on the step, protected it from + the impertinence of morning calls. Neighbours should be neighbourly. + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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 marketplace, 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!” “cut-throats!” etc. + </p> + <p> + The very rustics were said to have a custom hereabouts of murdering the + unwary traveller in these gloomy woods, whose dark and devious winding + 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 yard's 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 bolt sharp, whistling the whilst; and + when they entered a gloomy wood, he would unsling his crossbow 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 + crossbow 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 crossbow 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 upon 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 crossbow.” + </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?” + </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 does 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 Caesar, 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 quarrel fly in forest nor + battlefield. 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 Burgundian who shall go with thee as far as Lyons; and + much I doubt that honest fellow will be myself, into whose liquor thou has + 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, Day, I want a clean one.” + </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 longbow—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 Goliath, 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 aye 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!” + </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, and it. 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 hull'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 eyes 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 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 crossbow, 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 her, + 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. 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 crossbow 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXV + </h2> + <p> + 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 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 around him, rolled away, yelling. + </p> + <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 why?” + </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, Maitre 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 + for a friend.” + </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, and a face as long as his + arm. When they rose, 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 egal, '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. + </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 + crossbow 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, towards 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 be 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 sulphurous + 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!” + </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 art 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 manoeuvre 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 bear-skin 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 dine.” + </p> + <p> + “But I tell you I am too hungry to sleep,” snapped Gerard. + </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 farther 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. “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 the 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 snake-like 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. + </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 here?” + </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.” + </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 byplay. + </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 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 crossbow, 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 thee. 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 crossbow 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. 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 mouth full, 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 priest-craft. 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 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; natheless, 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.” + </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> + <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> + “Add 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. “Dost 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, 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 highroad, 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> + <p> + “'Obsecro Deum omnipotentem, ut, qua cruce jam pendent isti quindecim + latrones fures et homicidae, in ea homicida fur et latro tu pependeris + quam citissime, pro publica salute, in honorem justi Dei cui sit gloria, + in aeternum, Amen.'” + </p> + <p> + “And so good day.” + </p> + <p> + The greedy outlaw was satisfied 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 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVI + </h2> + <p> + It was the afternoon of the next day. Gerard was no longer lightheaded, + 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. + </p> + <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 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 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, whatever you may say, 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!-good!-fever. Let me feel thy pulse: good!—fever. I ordain + flebotomy, and on the instant.” + </p> + <p> + “Flebotomy! that is bloodletting: 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 jiffy. 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, Phoebus, Chiron, Aesculapius, and his sons Podalinus and Machaon, + Pythagoras, Democritus, Praxagoras, who invented the arteries, and + Dioctes, 'qui primus urinae animum dedit.' All these taught orally. Then + came Hippocrates, the eighteenth from Aesculapius, and of him we have + manuscripts; to him we owe 'the vital principle.' He also invented the + bandage, and tapped for water 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. 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, having + 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 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 chocked 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 + be-get 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 sua + 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. Goodbye, + quadrupeds and apes, and paganism, and Mohammedanism; we bought of the + churchwardens, we shook the gallows; we undid the sexton's work of dark + nights, penetrated with love of science and our kind; all the authorities + had their orders from Paris to wink; and they winked. Gods 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; nor heard with the ears which are given us to + gull us, but seen with these sentinels mine eye, 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 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 downstairs, the doctor would be + beforehand and bespeak his undertaker, and then he 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 cure 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 empyrics 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 arquebus, as 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 counsellors 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. 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. + </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—CRAMPS of the STOMACH. Aha! + </p> + <p> + “Then—BILIOUS VOMIT. Aha! + </p> + <p> + “Then—COLD SWEAT, and DEADLY STUPOR. + </p> + <p> + “Then—CONFUSION OF ALL THE SENSES. + </p> + <p> + “Then—BLOODY VOMIT. + </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; 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—MADNESS! + </p> + <p> + “And after that—BLACK VOMIT + </p> + <p> + “And then—CONVULSIONS! + </p> + <p> + “And then—THAT CESSATION OF ALL VITAL FUNCTIONS THE VULGAR CALL + 'DEATH,' 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 + church-yard; 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-stricken 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, man, 'tis but + cautery; balm of Gilead, why, you recommend 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 into 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVII + </h2> + <p> + 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 women'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. + </p> + <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 IN AN AFFIDAVIT! + </p> + <p> + The officers, on reaching “The Silver Lion”, found the birds were flown. + </p> + <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; the + bailiff is his friend: in five minutes we 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 + ON 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, he 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.” + </p> + <p> + “What weak arm?” inquired Denys, with twinkling eyes. “I have lived among + arms, and by Samson's hairy pow 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 Caesar, + 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> + <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 it is 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 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 Aethiop 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 + saecula. 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 cauldron in which they and their mother Solomona were + boiled by a wicked king for refusing to eat swine's flesh.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, 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.” + </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 stupendous 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 hast 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 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> + <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 loudly 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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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 crossbow, was hoisted with so eager a + jerk that half his body bobbed up out of water. + </p> + <p> + “Now, grip me not! grip me not!” cried Gerard, in mortal terror of that + fatal mistake. + </p> + <p> + “Pas si bete,” 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 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, three score 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> + <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 Rome-ward how I 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! soyes + tranquille! cette fois il est bien decidement mort, ce coquin-la.” 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 quick 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. + </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> + <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 three 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, anyhow.” + </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. + </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 a top, too. + </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-defence went to sleep again. + </p> + <p> + Poor fellow, in his hard life he had been often driven to this manoeuvre. + At high noon he was waked by Gerard moving, and found him sitting up with + the straw smoking round him like a dung-hill. 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 'twas 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <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> + <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. Aye 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXX + </h2> + <p> + 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, etc., 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. + </p> + <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 + be 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 such like 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?” + </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 + cell-door, 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> + <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 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 nowadays; 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 God 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 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 thoughtful 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 for ever. 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. Nay, I + forgot, y'are bound for Italy; the spiteful old saint upon earth, had sent + ye to Canterbury 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> + <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, antagonists 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXI + </h2> + <p> + Gerard 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 bedclothes 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.” + </p> + <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 whence this sudden + aversion to places that had fed and lodged them gratis so often. The + soldier hemmed 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-hit. But I'll not forgive them my + misery.” Then, about a century before Henry VIII.'s commissioners, he + delivered his indictment. These gloomy piles were all built alike. Inns + differed, but here all was monotony. Great gate, little gate, so many + steps and then a gloomy cloister. 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 may + be no stomach for food. Ere your meat settles in your stomach, tinkle, + tinkle! and ye must to church with may be 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 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,' 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 his 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; a 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 he 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 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. Misericorde, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 savoury 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: “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. + </p> + <p> + “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?” + </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 and 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 the monks for? + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The fiend being dead, + The friars are sped.” + </pre> + <p> + 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 crossbowman 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 the question,' quoth I, and then I had the laugh.” + </p> + <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 chaire 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 Catherine, etc., bedizened + with gold, stood for the four queens; and black, white, grey, and crutched + friars for 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 rope-ladder. 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 man-jack 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 wall-flowers, and off to the + parlour, where they found a pair lying dead drunk, and other two + affectionate to tears. That they had straightway carried off the + inanimate, and dragged off the loving and lachymose, kicked them all + merrily each into his cell. + </p> + <p> + “And so shut up in measureless content.” + </p> + <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 ghost-like 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 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 tunable as a lark in spring. The posies did turn the + faces of the women folk bright red at first: but elles s'y faisaient.” + </p> + <p> + Here Gerard exploded. + </p> + <p> + “Miserable wretches! Corrupters of youth! Perverters of innocence! but for + your 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> + “Misericorde!” 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: 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 a pied et a 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 CEANS A CREDIT; CE BONHOMME EST MORT, LES MAUVAIS PAIEURS + L'ONT TUE.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIII + </h2> + <h3> + They met the landlord in the passage. + </h3> + <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 is 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. + </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 forever!” + </p> + <p> + “Aha! Courage, camarade. Le dia—” + </p> + <p> + “C'est convenu.” + </p> + <p> + The salic 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 toward 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 Francois 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 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 he 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> + “Apres? 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 + since you ask me” (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 laughers this time was the traitor Denys, whose + beard was of a good length, and singularly stiff and bristly; so that + Shakespeare, though he never saw him, hit him in the bull's eye. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard.” + —As You Like It. +</pre> + <p> + Gerard bore the Amazonian satire mighty calmly. He had little personal + vanity. “Nay, 'chambriere,'” 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, 'L'es 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 non-paying 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?” + </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> + Marion. “And frying eggs the second; no, telling lies; frying eggs is the + third, though.” + </p> + <p> + The Mistress. “And holding her tongue the last, and modesty the day after + never at all.” + </p> + <p> + Marion. “Alack! Talk of my 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: 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> + “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 you 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.” + </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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Femme veut en toute saison, + Estre dame en sa mason.” + </pre> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “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 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, 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> + <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 nightgown 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 custom?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, not to take them unbidden: but at night we aye question travellers, + are they for linen washed. So I came into 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> + <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'espiegle. “I take that to mean you would fain + brush the morning dew off, as your bashful companion calls it; well then, + excuse me, 'tis customary, but not prudent. I decline. Quits with you, + lad.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop! stop!” cried Denys, as she was making off victorious, “I am 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> + <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 forefend! A fine fool you would make of yourself.” + </p> + <p> + They broke their fast, settled their score, and said farewell. Then it was + they found that 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 credit' 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, 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's 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 their 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 'roues.' Yet of those little three one 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 cure in his native village at Eastertide: “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 cut-purse + 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 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 the 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 non-reasoning 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 royal noise, a loud and + piercing wail burst from every woman's bosom, and a deep, 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 folk's 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mechant, 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 + booklearning. 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> + “Helas! 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. Helas! fallait-il + donc, mere 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “What a fine thing + Is a lute with one string,” + </pre> + <p> + said he. + </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 tue, 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. Ca vaut une petite embrassade—pas?” + </p> + <p> + “Je crois ben. Aie! aie!” + </p> + <p> + “Qu'as-tu?” + </p> + <p> + “Ca pique! ca pique!” + </p> + <p> + “Quel dommage! je vais la couper.” + </p> + <p> + “Nein, ce n'est rien; et pisque t'as tue ce mechant. T'es fierement beau, + tout d' meme, toi; t'es lien miex que ma grande soeur. + </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, ca ne m'aurait jamais donne l'arjan, + blanc, plutot ca 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 coeur,” 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!” + </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 to 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 grasping + each other, to signify farewell. By-the-by, one drop of bitterness found + its way into his letter to Margaret. But of that anon. + </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 courtyard and cross swords with me.” + </p> + <p> + “Whereupon I had cut thy comb for thee,” retorted the other. + </p> + <p> + “Hadst done thy endeavour, drole, 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 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> + “Uphill 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 calf-pen 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 ecu 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.” + </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 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.” 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. 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> + “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. + “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, 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> + <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 sign 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. + </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 guet-apens!” + </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 hearts thump at times. + </p> + <p> + “Good news!” breathed Denys, listening at the door. “They are casting + lots.” + </p> + <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> + <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. + </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> + <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 going 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.” + </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> + <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 crossbow 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 drole 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, here 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 gave 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 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 chapfallen 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 mans 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 hellfire. 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> + <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> + <p> + Dead silence. + </p> + <p> + Sudden came into the room a thing that made them start and their hearts + quiver. + </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 had rested + on; but on few more ghastly than this, where two men, with a lighted + corpse between them, waited panting, to kill and 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 therein 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> + <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. + </p> + <p> + 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 door-post. 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. + </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> + <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 stairs 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 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, + jobbed 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, 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIV + </h2> + <h3> + “Where be the true men?” + </h3> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “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 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 storey like that; they would + fain have the trick of his arm.” + </p> + <p> + Denys at first pished and pshawed, but 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 you 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 places 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. + </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 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 anyway.” + </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 there.” + </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 you 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 shankbone of + a man; no more, no less. But 'tisn't a battlefield, 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 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 lip 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 hair. It was long, + glossy, and golden. A woman's beautiful hair. At the 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 this, 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 this + landlord. One we slew upstairs, one we trundled 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 crossbow bolt.” + </p> + <p> + “Good!” said the clerk. He whispered his master, “What a goodly show will + the 'pieces 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 hands 1 axe—2 carcasses—1 + crossbow 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 he, 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 against 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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXV + </h2> + <h3> + Gerard awoke, and found Denys watching him with some anxiety. + </h3> + <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> + 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. 'Tis here I was making for + yestreen. But we lost time, and night o'ertook us—and— + </p> + <p> + “And you saw a woman at the door, and would be wiser than a 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 a 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 till 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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVI + </h2> + <h3> + “In prison, sir; good lack, for what misdeed?” + </h3> + <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 women folk. For a + man at odd times hides 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 subpoena. 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 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 tone 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 Manon's deposition. + </p> + <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 that she gave for turning me + off was, because I was saucy. Last year I stood in the marketplace 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 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 gallows' 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 favourably.” + </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 could 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, 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 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, 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 + bareheaded, 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 cure, 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 cure 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 cure 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 cure went to his cupboard, and while 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> + <p> + THE CURE'S TALE. + </p> + <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 cure. I say he lived; but barely. The parish + was small, the parishioners greedy; and never gave their cure 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 cure + 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 cure, '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 man, + not even the hangman. 'Miller, I tell thee nay,' quo' the cure. '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 cure. Came to him at dinner-time a summons to the episcopal + palace, to bring the parish books and answer certain charges. Then the + cure 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 cure 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 cure 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 cure 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 crestfallen to the + cure, and said, 'Parson, ye were even good to us, barring this untoward + matter: prithee let there be no ill blood anent so trivial a thing.' And + the cure 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 cure you love may miss starvation.' + </p> + <p> + “And the bishop often told the story, and it kept his memory of the cure + 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 cure: 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 cure's little niece burst in, “Uncle, the weighing—la! a + stranger!” And burst out. + </p> + <p> + The cure 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 manor: whereat the hawk + balanced and flapped; but stuck: then winked. + </p> + <p> + While the sexton heaved in the great weights, the cure 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 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 cure + 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 cure 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, cure,” 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 cure. + </p> + <p> + “Between a bird and a brute,” whispered Gerard. + </p> + <p> + “Tush!” and the cure 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. 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 + naively, and that naivete 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. + </p> + <p> + Whilst I have been preaching, who preach so rarely and so ill, the good + cure 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 cure gave a shout of dismay + and put forth his arm to hinder him, but was too late. + </p> + <p> + The cure 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 cure. “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 workmen's + jerkin, and—saints defend us! the jerkin has been moved.” + </p> + <p> + The poor cure's worst misgivings were realized: the rising generation of + the plebians 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. + </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 Cure?” said he. “Nay, the business is too old: he is + out of purgatory by this time, up or down. I shall not draw my + purse-strings 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 cure 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, etc. 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 cure assented. + Then Gerard asked, “Could the saint have loved hawking?” + </p> + <p> + The cure 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 cure. “But, que voulez-vous? the + saints are debonair, and have been flesh themselves, and know man's + frailty and absurdity. 'Tis the Bishop of Avignon sent this one.” + </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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVII + </h2> + <p> + The culprits were condemned to stand pinioned in the marketplace 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. + </p> + <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 conjectures were 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?” + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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 tenterhooks 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 you each an + ecu.” + </p> + <p> + “Jacques, what say you to that?” + </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 this 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 cure.” + </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 you think you are innocent—officer, go with him to the cure; + but see he 'scape you not. Innocent, quotha?” + </p> + <p> + They found the cure 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 cure, 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 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 + cure 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 cure 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 cure 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 by 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 cure subtly. + </p> + <p> + Thus encouraged, Gerard fired the eyes and nostrils of the image and made + the cure jump. Then lighted up the hair in patches; and set the whole face + shining like a glow-worm's. + </p> + <p> + “By'r Lady,” shouted the cure, “'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 cure 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 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 did but use in self-defence a secret of + chemistry well-known to me and 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 cure. “Therefore, sorcerer, withdraw thy plaint + without more words!” + </p> + <p> + “That I will 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 false knaves like thee, not to blame our credulous ears, but + the false tongue that gulled them. Therefore 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 cure 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 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 cure 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, cure, 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 cure 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 cure'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 very 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> + <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 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Qui hante femmes et dez + Il mourra en pauvretez. +</pre> + <p> + “There.” And having delivered this thunderbolt of antique wisdom, he + slammed the door viciously ere any of them could retort. + </p> + <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. + </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 insteads 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.” + </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 cost me three 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 our pricen + with the market. Oh, no, I tell thee the shoe is trode 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 cure 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> + <p> + “Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis aevum.” + </p> + <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 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 guet-apens.” + </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 it 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 Manon, 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 Manon.” + </p> + <p> + Gerard was dumfounded. + </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 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.' + </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 femina,' 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 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 bete,” 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 little expected or desired. + </p> + <p> + “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 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 staunch friends were more than reconciled after their short + tiff. + </p> + <p> + The next day the thieves were tried. The pieces 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, etc., 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 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 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 housewifely 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. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the landlord went downstairs, 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 open 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 quae latuit, + bene vixit,' that is, she is the best wife that is least talked of: but + here 'male quae 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 wife 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 + colour rising a little. + </p> + <p> + In six little 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 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 “quae patuit,” i.e. 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 cure 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 overnight, 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 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 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 as rife as flies at midsummer.” + </p> + <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, an 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 'Tete d'Or.' My grandaughter keeps it. She is a + mijauree, but not so knavish as most hotel-keepers, and her house + indifferent clean.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey, for the 'Tete d'Or,'” struck in Denys, decided by his ineradicable + foible. + </p> + <p> + On the way to it, Gerard inquired of his companion what a “mijauree” was? + </p> + <p> + Denys laughed at his ignorance. “Not know what a mijauree is? why all the + world knows that. It is neither more nor less than a mijauree.” + </p> + <p> + As they entered the “Tete d'Or,” they met a young lady richly dressed with + a 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: 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.e. 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 loath, 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 to be 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 “grimaciere” 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 afeard 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 mijauree 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 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 'Tete 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 gaol, St. Catherine's church, etc. 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 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 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 mediaeval 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 roadside,” 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 mediaeval 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 mijauree 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 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 mijauree coloured and bit her lips. She had not intended her byplay + 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 meditative + mijauree, 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 mijauree rattled the dice. In which sport she was so + taken up with her hands, that she forgot to cheat, and Denys won an “ecu + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 cob 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.” + </p> + <p> + “So would—ahem. He is right: the young women of the day are not + worthy of him, 'un tas des mijaurees' 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, Manon, 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 'mijaurees' 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 its 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 mijauree,” interposed Gerard, + yawning. + </p> + <p> + “Comrade, be reasonable; 'tis not the friskiest sheep that falls down the + cliff. All creatures must have their fling soon, or late; and why not a + woman? What more frivolous than a kitten? what graver than a cat?” + </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 who 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 exceeding low in discoursing of thee, and murmured + sweetly; another infallible sign. The bolt hath struck and rankles 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 'Tete d'Or,' + and safe from all the 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 or 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 'Tete 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 'coeur d'or' far more than a dozen of + these 'Tetes d'Or.' So prithee call me at the 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 jug 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 “Tete d'Or,” while its mistress was + washing her hands. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXVIII + </h2> + <p> + Outside the town they found the snow fresh trampled by innumerable wolves + every foot of the road. + </p> + <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 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. And they plodded on in + silence. + </p> + <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 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 on thy goodness of + overnight. Wouldst have wedded me to the 'Tete d'Or' or rather to the + 'tete de veau doree,' 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 'Tete 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 castors. + </p> + <p> + “I trow ye are from the 'Tete 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 be the + younger; here, youngster.” And he held him out a paper packet. “Ye left + this at the 'Tete 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 a + 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 features 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 naive, and may be thus + Englished:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Youth, with thee my heart is fledde, + Come back to the 'golden Hedde!' + Wilt not? yet this token keepe + Of hir who doeth thy goeing weepe. + Gyf the world prove harsh and cold, + Come back to 'the Hedde of gold.'” + </pre> + <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 “Tete 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 'Tete 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. + </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 nor 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.” + </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 is 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, and + shoot me this white-livered 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 + maybe 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 + 'Tete 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> + <p> + “Hush, Denys, hush! blaspheme not! Oh, God forgive him, he wots not what + he says. Be patient, Denys, be patient: though 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> + <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> + <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> + <p> + He had risen, and was dragging his leaden limbs along, when he 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 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 to get to Strasbourg without money? + </p> + <p> + Then suddenly seemed to ring in his ears— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Gyf the world prove harsh and cold, + Come back to the hedde of gold.” + </pre> + <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 begin 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 roadside, and stretched out his limbs on the snow, with + a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, tear not thine hair so! teareth my heart to see thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Margaret. Never see me more. Poor Margaret.” + </p> + <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 halfway to + Rome. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XXXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 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 horsepond, 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 Tergovian, 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. This added to his + uneasiness. It made him fear Gerard was only lurking in the neighbourhood: + 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> + <p> + “That, noting all, seem nought to note.” + </p> + <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 heart-strings. 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; 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 + busybody the burgomaster, who must put his nose into a business that + nowise concerned him. + </p> + <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 + 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 voice, 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 concealed + 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 an 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!” + </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; owing doubtless + to not being dead. + </p> + <p> + “In sooth, madam, I did use to think it hideous; but he 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> + <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 lackeys and pages. So he threw + himself in his sovereign's way out hunting, and contrary to all court + precedents, commenced the conversation—by roaring lustily 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 + tete-a-tete, and Martin reminded him of a certain battlefield 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, and the manoeuvre 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 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 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 him. 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XL + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I heard, and thought how side by side + We two had stemmed the battle's tide + In many a well-debated field, + Where Bertram's breast was Philip's shield. + I thought on Darien's deserts pale, + Where Death bestrides the evening gale, + How o'er my friend my cloak I threw, + And fenceless faced the deadly dew. + I thought on Quariana's cliff, + Where, rescued from our foundering skiff, + Through the white breakers' wrath I bore + Exhausted Bertram to the shore: + And when his side an arrow found, + I sucked the Indian's venom'd wound. + These thoughts like torrents rushed along + To sweep away my purpose strong.” + </pre> + <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 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 I know not. Stay! he named the cities + he should visit. Florence was one, and Rome.” But then—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, 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> + <p> + This Hans Memling was an old pupil of Jan Van Eyck and his 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 entrust 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 entrusted 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 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: + </p> + <p> + “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> + “She 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> + <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. + </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 a 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 was nearly dead: so it is not to say a + downright lie, after all.” + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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 it, we will see.” + </p> + <p> + “But, burgomaster, the man will be gone. It will be too late.” + </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> + <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. He 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> + <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 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 in the house 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's 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 is + 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 cleared 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 must 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.” + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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 gravely, “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 + your 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 him 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 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,'” + </p> + <p> + (Ghysbrecht trembled: he thought the duke capable of the deed) + </p> + <p> + “'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 rattlesnake 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 his 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 weird-like and terrible: so old and wizened the + face; so white and reverend the streaming 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> + <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. + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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! Oh! 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. + </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 friend, but one letter.” + </p> + <p> + “That we shall see,” said Sybrandt, who was the one in front. + </p> + <p> + “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 I 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 + weathercock in March; then whirled his weapon over his head and danced + about the road like a figure on springs, shouting: + </p> + <p> + “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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLI + </h2> + <p> + 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 “Tete d'Or.” + </p> + <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> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “The base degrees by which she did ascend.” + </p> + <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.” + </p> + <p> + 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 the 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. 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—and—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.” + </p> + <p> + She had already forgotten her precept to Denys. + </p> + <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 mediaeval naivete 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLII + </h2> + <p> + 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 cure, 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. + </p> + <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. + </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 drawbridge 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 + crossbows. + </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, 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> + <p> + 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 crossbowmen. 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. + </p> + <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 + crossbowmen, 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 boards 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 mediaeval forts, from which the besieged + delivered their missiles with far more freedom and variety of range than + they could shoot through the oblique 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 woodworks 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 side of the besieged 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 tall knight and his long lance were pretty sure to be concerned in + it. + </p> + <p> + My young reader will say, “Why did not Denys shoot him?” 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 + demoralised 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 woollen + 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 those missiles like the rest. + </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 penthouses + somewhat shattered by the mangonels, trebuchets, 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. + </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 trebuchet 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. Anyway, 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 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 twentypound stone some 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. + </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 beseiged 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 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 the 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 + crossbow 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 wonder-struck; 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?” + </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 you 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “Methinks the folk all look at me.” + </p> + <p> + One day, Margaret Van Eyck asked her what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + 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 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 curtsey, 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 + stopped 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.” + </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> + <p> + [a picture of two hands clasped together] + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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> + <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.” + </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, 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> + <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.” + </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 her—' + 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIV + </h2> + <p> + Experienced women are not frightened when a woman faints, or 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: + </p> + <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 + has 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, 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 before + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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 so.” + </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. + </p> + <p> + “I suffered for Gerard, and you shed your blood for him I do hear; his own + words show me that I have been to blame, the very words you have read to + me. Ay, Gerard, my child, I have held aloof from her; 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLV + </h2> + <p> + 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 bearers 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. + </p> + <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 Saone 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. + </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-a-beds 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 as 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 your 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 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 and bad. No I 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 the + 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 you, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0046" id="link2HCH0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVI + </h2> + <p> + 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 day to day, and one afternoon that it really could have + been managed, Peter Buyskens' mule was out of the way. + </p> + <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 wretch 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well then, sooth to say, I have seen her.” + </p> + <p> + “And?” + </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, wend 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 backards and + forrards of thee to her, and her to thee.” + </p> + <p> + In return for this, Kate bestowed on Catherine one of the prettiest + presents in nature—the composite kiss, i.e., she imprinted on her + cheek a single kiss, which said— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1. Quite correct. + 2. Good, clever mother, for guessing so right and quick. + 3. How sweet for us twain to be' of one mind again after + never having been otherwise. + 4. Etc. +</pre> + <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 captive's + 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 you, + 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 the altar together.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, but they went as they came, maid and bachelor.” + </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 any 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, neither 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 self-same 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 we 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 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?” + </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 heartbroken. 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> + <p> + “What makes you here?” was Catherine's greeting. + </p> + <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> + “Comes, 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 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> + <p> + A shrewd writer, now unhappily lost to us, has somewhere the following + dialogue: + </p> + <p> + She. “I feel all a woman's weakness.” + </p> + <p> + He. “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. + </p> + <p> + It was Eli; he had come in from the shop. + </p> + <p> + “Here is a ruffian been a-scolding of your women folk 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!” + </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 newcomer. 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 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 cut-throats, 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. + </p> + <p> + Denys started up; but Eli waved him back and flung a little water 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 + hustled 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> + <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 tea-spoonful 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 storytellers, 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 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 won through. Had he miscarried, and I at hand, would + I be alive?” + </p> + <p> + And meantime Kate's little Kardiometer, or heart-measurer, 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> + <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 to-morrow; 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. “And think you to lie from this house? + Gerard's room has been 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. “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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0047" id="link2HCH0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVII + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <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; 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 know 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 of 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.” + </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 + 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 said 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Well I never. A resolute chin.” + </p> + <p> + Denys. “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 Sevenbergen? 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 one can feel for her: for I too am far from my friends, + and often, when first I came to Holland, I did used to take a hearty cry + all to myself. But ten times liever would I be Reicht Heynes with nought + but the leagues atw'een me and all my kith, than be as she is i' the midst + 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 't won't rankle in her. And part with her for me, that + shall ye not. Beshrew the wench, she wots 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 woman. 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 her. 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. + </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> + Catherine. “Well, did you ever?” + </p> + <p> + Margaret. “Never in all my born days.” + </p> + <p> + Catherine. “Before our very faces.” + </p> + <p> + Margaret. “Of all the absurdity, and insolence of this ridiculous sex—” + </p> + <p> + Then 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 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, now, 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 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, alias 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, are not for innocent tranquility. + </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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0048" id="link2HCH0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLVIII + </h2> + <p> + Catherine 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. + </p> + <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 about 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 a 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; 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? 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, 'tisn't for you to + disappoint me beforehand, telling me it is not to be a child, but only a + girl.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0049" id="link2HCH0049"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 formerly + 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 mediaeval 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 Horace's famous couplet, Segnius irritant, + etc., 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 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 elite 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 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 water side, 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, etc., 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?” + </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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0050" id="link2HCH0050"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER L + </h2> + <p> + 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. + He flung a battalion of bottles out of 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. + </p> + <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 you mercy, mistress. I knew not my cousin had fallen 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 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 reverently, 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 hearts' content. + Populus vult decipi. And when they were gone, she would take down two + little boxes Gerard had made her; and on one of these she had written + To-day, and on the other To-morrow, 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 and 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 had 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. + </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 + penitently 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. + </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 bubbled 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 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 are 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 awanting for't, but the headpiece, worst + 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. 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. “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. “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 learnedest 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 eye in every patient. Had they stayed at home, and + never seen your daughter, they had 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> + <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 any thing. 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 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 again!” + </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?” + </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 vow not. I shall but command her to tell me the caitiff'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 who had 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 eye 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 or 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. + </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? maybe 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, for 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. + </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> + <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> + <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 fettered. 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!” + </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 the + 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 the 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 perseverance which, “oh, that they had bestowed on the arts,” as poor + Aguecheek 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. + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + They stared at this novelty, resistance; and ere they could recover and + make mincement 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, ods bodikins! I know you not, and you know me.” + </p> + <p> + “By Gerard's letter. Crossbow! 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 coming? 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. Shall 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. Boo! boo! boo!” + </p> + <p> + Margaret quickened her steps; but Denys took down his crossbow and + pretended to shoot them all dead: they fled quadrivious, shrieking. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0051" id="link2HCH0051"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 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 stepdaughter + 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 story-tellers, bards, + musicians, actors, tumblers followed in the train; and there was fencing, + dancing, and joy in every town they shone on. Richart invited all his + people to meet him at Rotterdam and view the pageant. + </p> + <p> + They had been in Rotterdam some days, when Denys met Catherine + accidentally in the street, and after a warm greeting on both sides, 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Mock me not, old man,” and she turned slowly round. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, see;” and he held out an enormous letter. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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 + Martha. Margaret was hours alone with her letter. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0052" id="link2HCH0052"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LI + </h2> + <p> + When she came down again she was a changed woman. Her eyes were wet, but + calm, and all her bitterness and excitement charmed away. + </p> + <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.” + </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 faithful 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(1),”' 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, an 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 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 towards + 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 hand; 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 here 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 must 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 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 + mediaeval 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?” 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— + </p> + <p> + “She will be here at three on the great dial.” + </p> + <p> + They all looked at one another in silence. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) Anglice, a Thing-em-bob. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0053" id="link2HCH0053"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LIII + </h2> + <p> + “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?” + </p> + <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 waited the foe. She, for her + part, prepared for the interview in a spirit little less hostile. 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. “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 wristbands, 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 + halfway, 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> + “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 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 whisht, 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, 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 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 liked 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 suppose, 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!' 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 it. 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 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 daily 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 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 + overmuch 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 the 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 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> + Catherine. “Alas! that he will think so.” + </p> + <p> + Eli. “Whisht, 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 has 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 lied from it, I looked down the path to see what could + make a man so lighthearted 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, thou hast youth and health; + and here comes the wreck of nature on crutches, praising God's goodness + with singing like a mavis?'” + </p> + <p> + Catherine. “There you see.” + </p> + <p> + Eli. “Whisht, dame, whisht!” + </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 had 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 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 + chaunt, 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> + Eli. “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, 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 same 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. 'Ba!' 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 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 meeting. And at the next town my master, Cul de + Jatte, bought me a psaltery, and set 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 my 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 bellyache 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 fine 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 debonair. 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 wayside, clap + thou on the music box! so 'twill make our pot boil for the nonce; but with + your, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Good people, let us peak and pine, + Cut tristful mugs, and miaul and whine + Thorough our nosen chaunts divine, +</pre> + <p> + 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; naught but the bare + melody.' For oh, Margaret, note the sly malice of the Evil One! Still to + the scurviest matter he wedded the tunablest ditties.” + </p> + <p> + Catherine. “That is true as Holy Writ.” + </p> + <p> + Sybrandt. “How know you that, mother?” + </p> + <p> + Cornelis. “He! he! he!” + </p> + <p> + Eli. “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 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 wheelbarrow. 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 fleshy, + 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, 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 becked for asking 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 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> + <p> + 'Qui veut ouir qui veut Savoir,' + </p> + <p> + 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 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. + </p> + <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 boatman 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 it, but the boatman 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'The Lord is debonair, + Let sinners nought despair.' +</pre> + <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 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 farmhouse,' 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 farmhouse 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, came towards me hobbling and holloaing, for the peasants had laid + 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 Strasbourg. 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 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. Welladay! 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 afeared 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> + Catherine. “D'ye hear that, my man!” + </p> + <p> + Eli. “Ay, wife, I hear; and mark to boot.” + </p> + <p> + Little Kate went back to her place, and Margaret read on. + </p> + <p> + “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> + Catherine. “Oh, the goodly Latin!” + </p> + <p> + Eli. “What meaneth it?” + </p> + <p> + Catherine. “Nay, I know not; but 'tis Latin; is not that enow? He was the + flower of the flock.” + </p> + <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 a-weary 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 be + 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 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 whoreson 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 guild.' 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 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 downlying, + scarce able to drag herself, yet still, poor soul, helping the weaker on + the way.' + </p> + <p> + Catherine. “Nay, nay, Margaret. Why, wench, pluck up heart. Certes thou + art no Bohemian.” + </p> + <p> + Kate. “Nay, mother, 'tis not that, I trow, but her father. And, dear + heart, why take notice to put her to the blush?” + </p> + <p> + Richart. “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 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 rufflers 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 newborn 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 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 + suntvegers,” “the schwiegers,” “the joners,” “the sesseldegers,” “the + gensscherers,” in France “marcandiers or rifodes,” “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 sho'ed 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. 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, 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 we 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 scurry + 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 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 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, 'Ant 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 master said + carelessly, he minded not precisely: his had been a life of misfortunes + and losses. When a poor soul has lost the 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 soldiers' 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 loath 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 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> + Richart. “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, lighthearted, 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 Cousin Detstein; and I, late count, thy Servant. Play the part + well, and help me save my bloodstained 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> + “What is that?” + </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 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. + </p> + <p> + This seems to have surprised him; for he enlarged on it with the naivete + 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 the 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 and 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> + <p> + DIARY. + </p> + <p> + “This first day 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. + Greeting 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 hedgestakes, and moved not + nor spake.” + </p> + <p> + Denys. “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 women, + Denys?”) And the reader opened two great violet eyes upon him with gentle + surprise. + </p> + <p> + Denys. “Ahem! he says so, she-comrade. By Hannibal's helmet, 'tis their + fault, not mine. They will have such soft voices, and white skins, and + sunny hair, and dark blue eyes, and—” + </p> + <p> + Margaret. (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 wreath of roses, encircling their + bare hair, as laurel Caesar'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 rosebuds 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 rosebuds 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 + snow-clad, 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 these + particoloured '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 hac aula + morari, strepitantes ita—et olentes: ut dulcissimae 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 worthy 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> + “January 2.—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 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 is it 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> + “January 3.—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 blushed 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 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 city, did crow with delight, and like 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 strangers' 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 Soloman's cloth! + </p> + <p> + “January 5.—Dear Margaret, it is a noble city, and a kind mother to + arts. Here they cut in wood and ivory, that 'tis like spider's work, and + paint on glass, and sing angelical harmonies. Writing of books is quite + gone by; here be six printers. Yet was I 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 ye 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, 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> + “January 8.—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 stupendous + 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> + “January 10.—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 unto Rome, for man may not vie with iron. + </p> + <p> + “Imprimit una dies quantum non scribitur anno. And, dearest, 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> + “January 12.—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-faced 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> + “January 14.—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> + “January 16.-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> + “January 18.-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 distanced 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 a-foot, + 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 + windmill. '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 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> + Catherine. “Oh, my poor boy! those black-haired 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 downstairs 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 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> + <p> + Eli. “Whisht 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 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. Mindest 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 not 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> + Giles. “WELL DONE! WELL DONE!” + </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> + Catherine. “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 that I had not fallen into their 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 + lighting, 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 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 placen, 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 ghosts 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—ah!” + </p> + <p> + Catherine. “Here, help! water! Stand aloof, you that be men!” + </p> + <p> + Margaret had fainted away. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0054" id="link2HCH0054"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LIV + </h2> + <p> + 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 beautifullest, and most moving, and smallest writ.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, good Master Giles,” sighed Margaret feebly, “he was 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> + Catherine. “Bless him! bless him!” + </p> + <p> + Eli. “Whisht!” + </p> + <p> + “And I told him what had befallen. He would see my leg. It 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> + “January 19.—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> + Catherine. “Eli, my man, an yon merchant comes our way let us buy a + hundred ells of cloth of him, and not higgle.” + </p> + <p> + Eli. “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 monks' cowls in shape and delicacy. + </p> + <p> + “January 20.—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 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 tourney dreading the evil eye. + </p> + <p> + “January 25.—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 city, 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 paved, + 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 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 fleshy 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> + Catherine. “'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> + Denys. “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 woman will sit here; but rather keep the place for you.” + </p> + <p> + Catherine. “Gramercy! that is manners. France for me!” + </p> + <p> + Denys rose and placed his hand gracefully to his breastplate. + </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 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> + Denys. “My foul mouth! Is that so writ, Master Richart?” + </p> + <p> + Richart. “Ay, in sooth; see else.” + </p> + <p> + Denys (inspecting the letter gravely). “I read not the letter so.” + </p> + <p> + Richart. “How then?” + </p> + <p> + Denys. “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 + is 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 peevishness is for + extortion's sake. The innkeepers 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> + Eli. “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> + Catherine. “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 Jezebels 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 city, 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 aye 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. 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> + Eli (with a sigh). “He should have been a priest, saving your presence, my + poor lass.” + </p> + <p> + “January 26.—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 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 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 bring 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 gentle folks 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Quand Italie sera sans poison + Et France sans trahison + Et l'Angleterre sans guerre, + Lors sera le monde sans terre.” + </pre> + <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. 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 boy, was written + in muckle letters, + </p> + <p> + RICHART ELIASSOEN, AMSTERDAM. + </p> + <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> + Eli. “Well, Richart, go on, lad, prithee go on. Is this a place to halt + at?” + </p> + <p> + Richart. “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> + Denys. “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> + Richart. “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.” + </p> + <p> + Richart. “So! so! skipper! Master Richart aforesaid will be at thy wedding + and bring's purse to boot.” + </p> + <p> + Margaret. “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 they would + sound so harsh now 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 he 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, though 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?” + </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 that 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 though 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 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 abide + with me. The world is wide and free. Within my walls I am master, and my + son's betrothed is welcome.” + </p> + <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 sonorous atom. + </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.” + </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> + <p> + Sybrandt. “Which will get to him first?” + </p> + <p> + Cornelis (gloomily). “Who can tell?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0055" id="link2HCH0055"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Non quia vexari quemquam est jucunda voluptas + Sed quibus ipse malis careas quia cernere suave est. +</pre> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 amid-ships, 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 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. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, most merciful sea! oh, sea most generous! oh! bountiful sea! oh, + 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. 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 mediaevals. 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 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, whoe'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 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. + </p> + <p> + “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, 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 composedly. They rolled along; 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> + <p> + When they had tumbled along thus a long time, suddenly the friar said + quietly— + </p> + <p> + “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 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-defence, and grazed the grave by land and sea—reached the + Eternal City; post tot naufragia tutus. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0056" id="link2HCH0056"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LVI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 unsaleable; the city + was thronged with works from all Europe. He should have come last year. + </p> + <p> + Gerard bought a psaltery. 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 them.” + </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.” + </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 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 himself: by which brusque opening, + having made him blush and look 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: 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, anyway.” + </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 name. Anyway, 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 grownup 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, signer. 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 offence to your superior merit, Signor Pietro.” + </p> + <p> + “No offence, stranger, none. Only, meseemeth an artist is one who thinks, + and paints his thought. Now a caligraph but draws in black and white the + thoughts of another.” + </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. “Ah! 'tis the good dame,” + cried Gerard. “What oh! 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 savoury. 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 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. + </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 condition. 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, 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 solis filii. 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 have 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 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 it is 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 maestro! 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0057" id="link2HCH0057"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LVII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + To be plain, Gerard, who never had a friend he did not master, 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 rattle-snake, 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, oh, 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 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 merchandise! 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 upstairs 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 worse.” + </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 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 + weary 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0058" id="link2HCH0058"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <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, Claelia, the sausage-maker, wants one; she told me, and I told + Leonora.” + </p> + <p> + Teresa made a courteous speech and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + Claelia 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 Claelia 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; 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 Claelia, “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 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 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 saith 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 + key-hole; 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 handiwork 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 upstairs, 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 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 downstairs, 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. However 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> + <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 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> + <p> + The next day an event took place in Holland, the effect of which on + Gerard's destiny, no mortal at the time, nor even my intelligent reader + now, could, I think, foresee. + </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 were 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 + crinolina. For the man, under the colour of a warming-pan, retained + Nature's outline. But it was subaudi equum! Scarce a pennyweight of honest + horse-flesh to be seen. Our crinoline spares the noble parts of women, 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 neighbouring town—to execute the + behests of royalty. + </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 taber. + </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 tiger-cats, 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 you, + 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 bellman 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. + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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 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 a 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 the 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. + </p> + <p> + 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> + <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. + </p> + <p> + It is an unpopular thing. + </p> + <p> + He made it an intolerable one. + </p> + <p> + Bawled it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0059" id="link2HCH0059"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LIX + </h2> + <h3> + Happy the man who has two chain-cables: Merit, and Women. + </h3> + <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 A.D. 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 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, etc. Above all, his old friend Thomas of Sarzana had been + made Pope, and had lent a mighty impulse to letters; had accumulated 5000 + MSS. in the library of the Vatican, and had set Poggio to translate + Diodorus Siculus and Xenophon's Cyropaedia, 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> + <p> + “And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.” + </p> + <p> + And such of them as are conceited as well as stupid shall even parade + instead of blushing for the holes in their intellects. + </p> + <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 sceptism was as naif 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 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 contemporary, 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 copying than + authorship 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. + </p> + <p> + 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, 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 had 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, awe-struck, 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 the chink ran it against a cold steel + halbert. Two soldiers, armed cap-a-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 + chattered ephemeralities while Gerard wrote the immortal lives. + </p> + <p> + One day he came a changed and moody man, and threw himself into 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 Plutarcho, to soothe 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0060" id="link2HCH0060"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 + aboveground here and there, he 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 pleases 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> + <p> + “'Ex pede Herculem; ex ungue leonem.'” + </p> + <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 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, finger-nails, 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 + 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 has 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> + <p> + 'Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes.' + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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> + <p> + One afternoon, when Gerard had finished his day's work, a fine lackey 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 voice to a very feminine tone, and said, “Are you the + writer, messer?” + </p> + <p> + “I am, Signora. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis well.” + </p> + <p> + 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 them?” + </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 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 a la moyen + age. 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 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.” + </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 time on such vanity 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 Gerardo.” 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> + <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 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-a-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 by-streets 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. + </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 priest 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 Flagellants, + 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 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 grey 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 + demigods, is a venerable custom, and inciteth the vulgar to virtue by + great and invisible 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> + <p> + 'Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic incredulus odi.' + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <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 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. + </p> + <p> + “'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> + Jacques Bonaventura. “Give me the Signor Boccaccio.” + </p> + <p> + His Holiness. “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 of faith. + I can but give you my sincere impression. Well then the work in question + had, as far as I can remember, all the vices of Boccaccio, without his + choice Italian.” + </p> + <p> + Fra Colonna. “Your holiness is known for slighting Aeneas 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 blase. A highbred, and highly + cultivated gentleman, who had done, and said, and seen, and known + everything, and whose body was nearly worn out. But double languor seemed + 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, {Makarioi oi eirinopioi}.” + </p> + <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> + <p> + {ouk estin ostis est' anyr eleutheos}. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 Church, the next best thing + is to go to the most ancient history of men and animals.” + </p> + <p> + Colonna. “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> + Colonna. “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> + His Holiness. “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, and the cattle that + were with him in the ark.' + </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, and every living creature of all flesh: 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 + 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, besides much cattle. + </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 terra' 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 you 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 cathedra, 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 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.” 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 bird-lime 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 manoeuvre. 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.” + </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> + <a name="link2HCH0061" id="link2HCH0061"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXI + </h2> + <p> + The Princess Claelia ordered a full-length portrait of herself. Gerard + advised her to employ his friend Pietro Vanucci. + </p> + <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 mediaeval + 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, his 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.” + </p> + <p> + The respite thus gained was passed in making the tunic and toga, etc., 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, anyway,” 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. + </p> + <p> + “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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Opera et impensis Sweynheim et Pannartz + Alumnorum Joannis Fust. + Impressum Subiacis. A.D. 1465. +</pre> + <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 Claelia. + </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, so that no footfall + could be heard. The room was an ante-chamber 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.” + </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 highbred nostrils + suddenly expanded like a bloodhorse'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 has 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. + </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 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 Ercole + 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 Claelia. 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 Claelia, Gerar-do.” + </p> + <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 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> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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 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 a daughter of a physician called Peter, and 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 selis 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. “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 draweth, 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.” + </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 dumb-stricken. “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!” + </p> + <p> + “I will, I will.” + </p> + <p> + “If you breathe 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,” said she, in a choked voice, “take him + safe out of the house, through my chamber, and by the side postern.” + </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. + </p> + <p> + “You are in luck, my young master,” said she. “All the fish run to your + net this day methinks. See what a lackey 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 round + 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 was 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 round her neck and hugged her. + </p> + <p> + “My best friend,” said he, “my second mother, I'll read it to you. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, do, do.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! it is not from Margaret. This is not her hand.” And he turned it + about. + </p> + <p> + “Alack; but maybe 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 Van Eyck. Oh, then Margaret's bill will 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> + <p> + “MARGARET VAN EYCK.'” + </p> + <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> + <p> + The poor woman sighed and rocked herself. + </p> + <p> + “And must 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 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 realise 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.” 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 round with arms extended; then fell like a dead log upon the + floor, with blood trickling from his nostrils and ears. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0062" id="link2HCH0062"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XLII + </h2> + <h3> + Gerard returned to consciousness and to despair. + </h3> + <p> + On the second day he was raving with fever on the brain. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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. Oh, my Margaret! + oh, 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. + </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 hast 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0063" id="link2HCH0063"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXIII + </h2> + <h3> + A dark cloud fell on a noble mind. + </h3> + <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 and + demoralized him. He rushed fiercely into pleasure. And in those days, even + more than now, pleasure was vice. 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> + <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.” + </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> + <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> + <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 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, criticising her from afar. + </p> + <p> + “Gemini! what steps 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 chere 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> + <p> + “What think ye of this new beef, mesdames?” + </p> + <p> + “We ne'er saw monsters so viley 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. + </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, griped 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> + Gerard's lady. “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> + Gerard's lady. “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 snake-like, on each, 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. + </p> + <p> + Presently the unanimity of the party suffered a momentary check. + </p> + <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 stultified 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 fire-shovel.” + </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 take me for? You should not be + so sad.” + </p> + <p> + 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 Claelia. + </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> + <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!” 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 should all 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 Epicaene, calmly + cracking an almond. + </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 a 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> + <p> + But one there was who was still among these butterflies, but no longer of + them. The sight of the Princess Claelia 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. + </p> + <p> + How much lower had he fallen now. + </p> + <p> + How happy he must have been, when the blandishments of Claelia, that might + have melted an anchorite, could not tempt him from the path of loyalty! + </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, 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! 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, woebegone, 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> + <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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0064" id="link2HCH0064"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXIV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 not 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 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 need + must guard our hand. This is our mallet.” He then undid his doublet, and + gave her a glimpse of a coat of mail 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 mediaeval. 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, male instruments. And the + effect is as terrible as the combination is unnatural. + </p> + <p> + In this instance it whetted an assassin's dagger for a poor forlorn wretch + just meditating suicide. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0065" id="link2HCH0065"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXV + </h2> + <p> + It happened, two days after the scene I have endeavoured to describe, that + Gerard, wandering through one of the meanest streets in 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. + </p> + <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 you + 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 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 one 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 this state of mind, the circumstance made no impression whatever on + him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0066" id="link2HCH0066"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXVI + </h2> + <p> + Two nights after this Pietro Vanucci and Andrea sat waiting supper for + Gerard. + </p> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “'Dear Pietro, dear Andrea, life is too great a burden.' + </p> + <p> + “So 'tis, my lad,' but that is no reason for being abroad at supper-time. + Supper is not a burden.” + </p> + <p> + “'Wear my habits!' + </p> + <p> + “Said the poplar to the juniper bush.” + </p> + <p> + “'And thou, Andrea, mine amethyst ring; and me in both your hearts a month + or two.' + </p> + <p> + “Why, Andrea?” + </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> + <p> + “'Adieu! adieu! + </p> + <p> + “'The broken-hearted Gerard.' + </p> + <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> + “O, 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 lackey, 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 lackey questioned Andrea. + </p> + <p> + Andrea, sobbing, told him about the letter, and Gerard's moody ways of + late. + </p> + <p> + That lackey was a spy of the Princess Claelia. + </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. + </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 + lackey 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 quickfooted 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 lackey 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 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 fisherman 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 lackey. + </p> + <p> + “Four hours past midnight.” + </p> + <p> + “My pretty lad,” said the lackey 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0067" id="link2HCH0067"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXVII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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. + </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. + </p> + <p> + “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> + <p> + What followed will be related by the assassin. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0068" id="link2HCH0068"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXVIII + </h2> + <p> + A woman has her own troubles, as a man has his. 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. + </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> + <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 does 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 hustled 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 happy 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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0069" id="link2HCH0069"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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> + <p> + “It is Teresa's husband. And an assassin?!!?” + </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.” And he + retired on tip-toe 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> + “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.” + </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> + <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 novitiate in prayer, and mortification, and pious reading + and meditation. + </p> + <p> + The Princess Claelia'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. 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 Lodovico 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0070" id="link2HCH0070"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXX + </h2> + <p> + One of the novice Gerard's self-imposed penances was to receive Lodovico + kindly, feeling secretly as to a slimy serpent. + </p> + <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 cooperated 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 Lodovico 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> + <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 Claelia'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.” + </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> + <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. + </p> + <p> + Loving but experienced eyes were on him. + </p> + <p> + Upon a shorter probation than usual he was admitted to priest's 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0071" id="link2HCH0071"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXI + </h2> + <p> + “As is the race of leaves so is that of men.” And a great man budded + unnoticed in a tailor's house at Rotterdam this year, and a large man + dropped to earth with great eclat. + </p> + <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 + siecle!” + </p> + <p> + In this emergency the seneschal cast his despairing eyes around; and not + in vain. A hopeful light shot into them. + </p> + <p> + “Here is this,” said he, sotto voce. “Surely this 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 this.” + </p> + <p> + Now this 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, + etc., 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 + mediaeval 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, here 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. + </p> + <p> + 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” thunder's from pole to pole. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0072" id="link2HCH0072"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXII + </h2> + <h3> + The Cloister + </h3> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 + paternoster. + </p> + <p> + “Would ye not speak with them, brother?” said Jerome, trying him. + </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, slaughtered. + 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. + </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 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> + <p> + One Julio Antonelli was accused of sacrilege; three witnesses swore they + saw him come out of the church whence the candle-sticks 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; and after the appointed prayers, dismissed him, cleared of the + charge. + </p> + <p> + During the experiment Clement prayed earnestly on the bank. + </p> + <p> + 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 + hundred-fold.” + </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 sliest 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.” + </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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 + 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? {a} + negative, and {methua} to tipple. Go to, names are but the signs of + things. A stone is not called {amethustos} 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. + </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 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + {Zeus estin ouranos, Zeus te gy Zeus toi panta} + saith the Greek, and Lucan echoes him: + 'Jupiter est quod cunque vides quo cunque moveris.' +</pre> + <p> + “Their vulgar were polytheists; and what are ours? We have not invented + 'invocation of the saints.' Our sancti answers to their Daemones and Divi, + and the heathen used to pray their Divi or deified mortal 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 or 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 worshipped Venus; called her 'Stella maris,' and 'Regina + caelorum.' 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 doubtlet 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 them. 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 dropped + 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 drafts 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 villainous 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 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> + <p> + 'Qui Bavium non odit amet tua carmina, Mavi.' + </p> + <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 Chaeronea, 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 Aeneas, 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. Antony'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 footprints 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> + <p> + 'Qui Bavium non odit amet tua carmina, Mavi.' + </p> + <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 the High Priest's toe a thousand years + B.C. 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. + </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! + </p> + <p> + 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Ah nimium faciles, qui tristia crimina coedis + Fluminea tolli posse putetis aqua.' +</pre> + <p> + Thou seest the heathen were not all fools. No more are we. Not all.” + </p> + <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 November. The + Festum Dei Mortis was on the 2nd 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 courtesans 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 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 Phaedo, and + the sixth book of Virgil's Aeneid. + </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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Aliae panduntur inanes, + Suspensae ad ventous, aliis sub gurgite vasto + Infectum eluitur scelus, aut exuritur igni.' +</pre> + <p> + But peradventure, you think Pope Gregory I lived before Virgil, and Virgil + versified him. + </p> + <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 Aeneas. Ovid tells, + that when he prayed for the soul of Anchises, the custom was strange in + Italy. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 'Hunc morem Aeneas, pietatis idoneus auctor + Attulit in terras, juste Latine, tuas.' +</pre> + <p> + The 'Biblicae' Sortes,' which I have seen consulted on the altar, are a + parody on the 'Sortes Virgilianae.' 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 Pathian Venus + were a hundred of them. 'Centum que Sabaeo thure calent arae.' Our altar's + 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? 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 + 'praefectus 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.” + </p> + <p> + Clement interrupted him to inquire what he meant. “I have spoken with + those 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 Christian virgins in a little, + wee, Paynim city! + </p> + <p> + 'Quod cunque ostendis mihi sic incredulus odi.' + </p> + <p> + 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 mis-pronounce undecim + mille, eleven thousand: loose tongue found credulous ears, and so one fool + made many; eleven thousand of them, 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 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 the 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 Caenobite? + 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 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 Absolom's, Jerome! for the tonsure is as Pagan as the + Muses.” + </p> + <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 thousands 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 Dens. + 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 hallooed joyfully after Jerome. “And that 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Affecti suppliciis Chrisitiani, genus hominum + Novas superstitionis ac maleficae,'” + </pre> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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> + Jerome. “Humph! He obeyed, but with regret, ay, with childish repining.” + </p> + <p> + Anselm, “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, great, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0073" id="link2HCH0073"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE HEARTH + </h3> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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. 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 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, uplifting 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 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 their ridiculous + pronunciation? + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could wash out THAT,” 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 him? 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 luke-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, our lives are all cut upon one + pattern. Wasn't I for washing out my Gerard's mole in his young days? 'Oh, + fie! here's a foul blot,' quo' I; and scrubbed away at it I did till I + made the poor wight cry; so then I thought 'twas time to give over. And + now says you to me, 'Mother,' says you, 'do try and wash you 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—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> + <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, rightly 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 + </p> + <p> + “the Cloister and the Hearth.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0074" id="link2HCH0074"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE CLOISTER + </h3> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 + barefooted 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. 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 seemed to crush him. He groaned and moaned under them, and + grovelled on the floor. At last the friar observed that at intervals 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, 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. + </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 roadside, 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 + bill-hooks, 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; 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!” + </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— + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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 entrusted 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.” + </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 hustled 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 you took me + 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 recontre 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, 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 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 its 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? 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 hath sent him.” (Clement's eye was 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 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 emotion, in quick succession. + </p> + <p> + “My daughter, he you murdered—in intent—was one Gerard, a + Hollander. He loved a creature, as men 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, nor any layman, 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 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, does 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 Caesare, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0075" id="link2HCH0075"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXV + </h2> + <p> + Clement sighed. He began to doubt whether he had taken the wisest course + with a creature so passionate. + </p> + <p> + But young as he was, he had already learned many lessons of ecclesiastical + wisdom. For one thing he had been taught to pause, ie., in certain + difficulties, neither to do nor to 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 it + 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 last 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 thee to marry + one that feareth God. For thou art very clay. Mated ill thou shalt be + naught. But wedding a worthy husband thou mayest, Dei gratia, 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 foemina.” + </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. Dost + 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.” + </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> + <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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0076" id="link2HCH0076"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE HEARTH + </h3> + <p> + When little Gerard was nearly three months old, a messenger came hot from + Tergou for Catherine. + </p> + <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 must 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, + </p> + <p> + “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 + grudged bounty from any family; unless I saw my child starving, and—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” + </p> + <p> + Catherine yielded with a good grace; and when the actual parting came, + embraces and tears burst forth on both sides. + </p> + <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 thought granny gave in + rather sudden.” + </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. + </p> + <p> + 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 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'd out 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 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 Busy Body 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. + </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 me + 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! 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 torturer, Suspense, began to tear her heavy heart + with his hot pincers, till she cried often and vehemently, “Oh, that I + could know the worst.” + </p> + <p> + Whilst she was in this state, one day she heard a heavy step mount 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 faintish 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0077" id="link2HCH0077"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXVII + </h2> + <p> + Not long after this, as the little family at Tergou sat at dinner, Luke + Peterson burst in on them, covered with dust. “Good people, Mistress + Catherine is wanted instantly at Rotterdam.” + </p> + <p> + “My name is Catherine, young man. Kate, it will be Margaret.” + </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. 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> + “Oh, 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 curtsey, 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. + </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 way 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!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! well, one comfort, he 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 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> + <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 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </p> + <p> + 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 amissing, 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 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 goodman out of his own house.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, let me kiss the bairn afore ye go. He is not in fault anyway, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0078" id="link2HCH0078"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXVIII + </h2> + <p> + Some blackguard or other, I think it was Sybrandt, said, “A lie is not + like a blow with a curtal axe.” + </p> + <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 everyday 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 tellers 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. + </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 cure 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 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 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> + <p> + For Gerard his wife. + </p> + <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, “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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0079" id="link2HCH0079"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 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 make 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 let 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. An, 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.” + </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 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 daresay I + have got the sack;” and went out. + </p> + <p> + But the next Saturday Catherine found him seated on the doorstep + 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, 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0080" id="link2HCH0080"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXX + </h2> + <h3> + THE CLOISTER + </h3> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 hue read of inspired + prophet or heathen orator: Vehemens ut procella, excitatus ut torrens, + incensus ut fulmen, tonabat, fulgurabat, et rapidis eloquentiae fiuctibus + cuncta proruebat et perturbabat. + </p> + <p> + I would give literal specimens, but for five objections; it is difficult; + 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 all + 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 drives 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 mediaeval 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.” + </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 + all to “ohing” and “ahing,” and “Eh, but that is a true word.” + </p> + <p> + This discourse caused quite all 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 hand 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 + down 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0081" id="link2HCH0081"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXI + </h2> + <h3> + THE HEARTH + </h3> + <p> + “Eli,” said Catherine, “answer me one question like a man, and I'll ask no + more to-day. What is wormwood?” + </p> + <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> + <p> + Luke Peterson was always asking Margaret what he could do for 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 fort.” + </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> + Single-minded 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0082" id="link2HCH0082"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXII + </h2> + <h3> + “Mistress, they all say he is dead.” + </h3> + <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 weed 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 would; 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.” + </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 which followed it. But at last 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 could 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, anyway; 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.” + </p> + <p> + THE CLOISTER + </p> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “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, 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, But inside 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. + </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 it. 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. + </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> + “Ay! 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'n 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 wilt 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 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, + liker 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 dunghill. '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 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, hurled him furiously + from the door and sent him all across the room, pitching head foremost on + to the stone floor; then tore the door open and carried the screaming nun + out into the road. + </p> + <p> + “Hush! poor trembler,” he gasped; “they dare not molest thee on the + highroad. 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. “This much is certain: God chooseth well his fleshly + instruments; and with imperfect hearts doeth His perfect work, Glory be to + God!” + </p> + <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. + </p> + <p> + 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 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. + </p> + <p> + As they went they heard musical instruments and singing. + </p> + <p> + “'Tis a feastday,” said Mary; “and I come to mar it.” + </p> + <p> + “Hardly,” said Clement, smiling; “seeing that you are the queen of the + fete.” + </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 then, some angelic spirits; and these sing and exult at + thy return. But 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> + <p> + THE HEARTH + </p> + <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. + </p> + <p> + “Know 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> + <p> + Luke mingled with the passengers of two boats, and could hear nothing of + Gerard Eliassoen. Nor did this surprise him. + </p> + <p> + 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. “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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0083" id="link2HCH0083"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE HEARTH + </h3> + <p> + Waiting an earnest letter seldom leaves the mind in statu quo. + </p> + <p> + 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 staunch friend she had lately made, Joan Ketel. This good woman + came in radiant with an idea. + </p> + <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 water, and let him sup that!” Alas! Gilt chicken broth + shared the fate of the humbler viands, its predecessors. Then the cure + 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 mediaeval 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 yoke 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.” + </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 headpiece,' + 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?” + </p> + <p> + “I am sure he would. So do you be kinder to him when he comes back! Will + ye now?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay.” + </p> + <p> + THE CLOISTER + </p> + <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 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 grudged 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? 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 all 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0084" id="link2HCH0084"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXIV + </h2> + <h3> + THE HEARTH + </h3> + <p> + 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 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. + </p> + <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 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. “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 he be 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0085" id="link2HCH0085"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXV + </h2> + <h3> + THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH + </h3> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 lights 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 spellbound 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 langour 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. + </p> + <p> + She felt it good to be there. + </p> + <p> + Presently she saw a lady leave an excellent place opposite to get 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 round; 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 as 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 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. 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 there. For I am wading in deep waters.” + </p> + <p> + Her father's tomb commanded a side view of the church door. And on that + tomb she sat, with her face covered, waylaying the holy preacher. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0086" id="link2HCH0086"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH + </h3> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 her. This was the blooming Margaret he had left: + only a shade riper and more lovely. + </p> + <p> + He started at her with monstrous eyes and bloodless cheeks. + </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 couching 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 here; 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 on to 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. + </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 the + 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!” 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. Good-natured, though crusty, + Jorian had not thrown up three spadefuls ere he became ashamed of it + himself. “Why, what a base churl am I to speak thus to thee, holy father; + and thou a 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> + 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0087" id="link2HCH0087"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXVII + </h2> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <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.” + </p> + <p> + “Then—but he had just 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 bedpost; 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 whene'er I pass my hunch + I doff bonnet, and says I, 'fly 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 the story. He had been 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, that 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 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. 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. + </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 whereabout 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 his 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, its 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Man, see you not, this 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 was 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 not 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.” 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0088" id="link2HCH0088"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 farther 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 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, 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> + <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 her 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 + indoors, and flung it into the chimney-place. 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, “Oh, my poor children!” she cried. “Oh, + 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 a while—“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? + </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 + the 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0089" id="link2HCH0089"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER LXXXIX + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + Fancy yourself the man; and then put yourself in his place! 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. 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 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' days; 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.” + </p> + <p> + “The seven deadly sins, art thou clear of them?” + </p> + <p> + “Heaven forefend 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 must 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. “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 cure but to + some friar who knows not my misdeeds. So will I cheat the Church on my + deathbed, 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 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 upon 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 promised 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0090" id="link2HCH0090"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XC + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 maybe 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 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.” + </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 murderer + 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, 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 it 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 the 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 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!” 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0091" id="link2HCH0091"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + By this will Margaret inherited a furnished house, 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 cubboord:” meaning the diptych. + </p> + <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—“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 seen 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 hardhearted 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.” + </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 that 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> + <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 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The high and puissant Princess Marie + of Bourgogne her lytel jantilman hys + complaynt of y' Coort, and + praise of a rusticall lyfe, versificated, and empapyred + by me the lytel jantilman's right lovynge + and obsequious servitor, etc.” + </pre> + <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.” + </p> + <p> + “How may that be, being blinded?” inquired a maid of honour. + </p> + <p> + “I'll wager on Giles for one,” said the princess. + </p> + <p> + “That is my affair.” + </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 a 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Long limbs, big body, panting wit + By wee and wise is bet and bit +</pre> + <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 to + her, nor her to answer them. 'Stand aloof a bit, mesdames,' said she, 'and + thou speak withouten 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 came into 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, exceeding + 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 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 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 two 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.” + </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 reason. + </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 contributions, 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 + 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 savings. + </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 an 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. 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 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 he 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.” + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </p> + <p> + “Get me my marriage lines,” said Margaret, turning sad and gloomy in a + moment. + </p> + <p> + “That is as much as to say, get me him! 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 hantle 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. 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' 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 for ever into stranger's hands. + </p> + <p> + “I think he would have been happy here,” she said, and turned heart-sick + away. + </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> + <p> + Felix qui in Domino nixus ab orbe fugit. + </p> + <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! 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. + </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> + <p> + Passing down the Brede Kirk Straet they saw Joan at the door. 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 now he 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 'en, 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 yourn; 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! + </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. + </p> + <p> + The living of Gouda would be kept vacant no longer. + </p> + <p> + Margaret was greatly distressed at this. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </p> + <p> + “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 communication. So at least its obstinate silence might fairly + be interpreted. + </p> + <p> + The next day Margaret put Reicht in charge of the shop, and 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 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 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> + <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> + <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 + her, and said— + </p> + <p> + “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 I have got the 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, “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 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0092" id="link2HCH0092"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCII + </h2> + <p> + Yes, the hermit of Gouda was the vicar of Gouda, and knew it not, so + absolute was his seclusion. + </p> + <p> + My reader is aware that the moment the frenzy 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 then 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; and older and a better monk, he + should be more master of his earthly affections, and Margaret, seeing + herself abandoned, would marry, and love another, 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 + 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 hermit's 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 compline. + 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, 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 + Angelorum amici et animalium, i.e. + </p> + <p> + FRIENDS OF ANGELS AND ANIMALS. + </p> + <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 breast-plate 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 of the + solitary cell. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he was reconciled to Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, he went eagerly to + his 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, etc. 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 gaol, and think 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 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> + <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 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 for himself 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 + strikes home.” + </p> + <p> + Oh, sore heart, comfort thou the poor and bereaved with holy words of + solace in their native tongue; for he 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 war-like 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(1). + </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 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 avaritiae 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 Aeneid. + </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 + Columba, 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.” + </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 to him. + </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. + </p> + <p> + 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: Vertuntur ad melancholiam: “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, the + hermits so lost were perished souls, and the serpents were diabolical (2) + 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) It requires nowadays 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” etc. + + (2) 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. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0093" id="link2HCH0093"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 me,” 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> + <p> + Kyrie Eleison. + </p> + <p> + Christe Eleison. + </p> + <p> + {ton Satanan suntripson upo tous pothas ymwn}(1) + </p> + <p> + Sursum Corda.(2) + </p> + <p> + Deus Refugium nostrum et virtus.(3) + </p> + <p> + Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi miserere mihi.(4) + </p> + <p> + Sancta Trinitas unus Deus, miserere nobis.(5) + </p> + <p> + Ab infestationibus Daemonum, a ventura ira, a damnatione perpetua. Libera + nos Domine.(6) + </p> + <p> + Deus, qui miro ordine Angelorum ministeria, etc, (the whole collect).(7) + </p> + <p> + Quem quaerimus adjutorem nisi te Domine qui pro peccatis nostris juste + irascaris? (8) + </p> + <p> + Sancte Deus, Sancte fortis, Sancte et misericors Salvator, amarae morti ne + tradas nos. + </p> + <p> + And underneath the great crucifix, which was fastened to the wall, he + graved this from Augustine: + </p> + <p> + 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 + fixus est in cruce. Nam si passio Christi ad memoriam revocetur, nihil est + tam durum quod non aequo animo toleretur. + </p> + <p> + Which may be thus rendered: 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. + </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. Awaking quietly, he heard a little cheep; + he opened his eyes, and lo! upon his breviary, which was on a low 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> + <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 busybody + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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.” + </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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Veni, Creator Spiritus, + Mentes tuorem visita, + Imple superna gratia + Quae tu creasti pectora + + Accende lumen sensibus, + Mentes tuorum visita, + Infirma nostri corporis, + Virtute firmans perpeti. +</pre> + <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 surrounding 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! + </p> + <p> + “Let everything that hath breath praise the Lord.” + </p> + <p> + And all the time he sang the wolf bayed at intervals. + </p> + <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 antelope's he had seen at Rome, 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, god-like 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 I 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.” + </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 aetherius 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 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 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> + <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. 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.” + </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, and 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 tranquility 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 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(9) 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 gratia,” 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(10), 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> + <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> + 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> + <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. + </p> + <p> + 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) Beat down Satan under our feet. + + (2) Up, hearts! + + (3) O God our refuge and strength. + + (4) O Lamb of God, that takest away the sins of the world, + have mercy upon me! + + (5) O Holy Trinity, one God, have mercy upon us. + + (6) From the assaults of demons—from the wrath to come— + from everlasting damnation, deliver us, O Lord! + + (7) See the English collect, St., Michael and all Angels. + + (8) Of whom may we seek succour but of Thee, O Lord, who for + our sins art justly displeased (and that torrent of prayer, + the following verse). + + (9) Dr. Dickson, author of Fallacies of the Faculty, etc. + + (10) It is related of a mediaeval 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.” + </pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0094" id="link2HCH0094"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCIV + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 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 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 overpowering 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 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 awaiting 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 destroying in a minute the + holy peace it hath taken six months of solitude to build. No matter. A + year of penance will, Dei gratia, 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> + <p> + When he saw that, he groaned and turned back a step; but suddenly, by + another impulse flung himself into the icy water instead. + </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 pale face 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: + </p> + <p> + “CRUEL!—CRUEL!—CRUEL!—CRUEL!” + </p> + <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. + </p> + <p> + 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. 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 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, “MUMMA! 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 soothe 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 to get rid of + her child for ever.(1). 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, besides thee?” + </p> + <p> + “Ookum-gars,(2) said the boy, pointing to the hermit's breastplate. + </p> + <p> + “Quot liberi, tot sententiunculae!” Hector's child screamed at his + father's glittering casque and nodding crest; and here was a mediaeval + 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> + 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. + </p> + <p> + 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, He + 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 you 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. + </p> + <p> + “Reicht,” said she piteously, “what else have I on earth? I cannot.” + </p> + <p> + “Whoever 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 is 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? Reicht?” stammered Margaret. + </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 a 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 atwixt those twain.” + </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. + </p> + <p> + 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, 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 left 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 has 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 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 e'en 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.” + </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(3) 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 sent him off. + </p> + <p> + And the child sank into a profound sleep upon his arm. And he stopped + croning 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) More than one hermit had received a present of this + kind. + + (2) Query, “looking glass.” + + (3) Craft. He means trade or profession. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0095" id="link2HCH0095"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCV + </h2> + <p> + The startled hermit glared from his nurseling 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 face + radiant with a look he could not quite read; for he had never yet seen it + on her: maternal pride. + </p> + <p> + He stared and stared from the child to her, in throbbing amazement. + </p> + <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. 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. 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 twice, 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. 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.” + </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 gratia, 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 anyway,” said Margaret, with a consummate affectation + 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 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.” + </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> + “Ay, that is another matter; 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 a 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 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 thine 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. + </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: + </p> + <p> + “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 afore-hand, And, my dear, + when she was just parting, she asked for 'Gerard's little boy,' 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 then, 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 + were 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> + <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” (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> + <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 his 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.(1) 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, 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> + <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 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, calls 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 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> + <p> + Margaret lingered behind, cast her eye rapidly round the furniture, 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + “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. + </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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) I think she means prejudice. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0096" id="link2HCH0096"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCVI + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 thinking she could ever forget the priest in the some + time 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. + </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> + “Whisht! 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> + <p> + But when these stolen meetings had gone on for 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 hands 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 aloof from your + own good deed? we have been 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 heartstrings, 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 I 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.” + </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 cup before + the church-wardens? 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 sun-light, and could + not go abroad (owl!), but that is passed; 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> + “Ay, but,” continued Gerard, “the strange thing is, the cave has verily + fallen in; and had I been so perverse as resist thee, it 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 quick silver, 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 I 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 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 comliness 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 heart 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 seashore after a storm, when 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 story-teller than romance, + presents few things so strange(1) 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 fete 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 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 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 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. 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 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 a 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. 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. + </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 peace-maker, 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 manoeuvres in the peacemaking + 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, bares, + fawns, etc. So half in jest a parishioner 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. + </p> + <p> + 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. + </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 turtle-dove, + 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> + “He 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 him?” + </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 which he thought would be + 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; but she was agitated and eager to let him see + without words that she would never marry, and 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 claw 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, etc. 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 + mediaeval hermits in taming wild animals. + </p> + <p> + He kept the key of this paddock, and never let any man but himself enter + it; nor would he even let little Gerard go there without him or Margaret. + “Children are all little Cains,” said he. 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 of 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 you.” + </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. Indoors 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 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 deed 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?” etc. 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. + “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 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. 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 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. + </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, “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 all on our side, the Church all + on theirs. If you come to that, the old Batavian law, which compelled 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 and a + kindness of sentiment which went far to soothe 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 passions for one + another cooled a little, but their affection increased. + </p> + <p> + From this 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 out-lived 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 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 ringing in + his ears, when, going on 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 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, She drew back + hastily. + </p> + <p> + He looked astounded. + </p> + <p> + “I am displeased,” she said 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?” + </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 quarrelling! 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. + </p> + <p> + 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 eyes + 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 bide, 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. + </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,” she said 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 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,” she said 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 debonair; 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 die 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.'” + </p> + <p> + “Forgive thee, sweet innocent?” sobbed Gerard; “what have 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 eyes. 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 have 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 realise any sin but her having deceived him, gave her full + absolution, Then he put the crucifix in her hand, and while he consecrated + 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 eyes with the consecrated oil, and prayed aloud beside + her. + </p> + <p> + Soon after she dosed. + </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 health; wherefore lap me in lead, the way I am, + and bury me deep! yet not so deep but what one day thou mayst 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. 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. + </p> + <p> + “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.” + </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 a 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 eve' adorned the earth. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) 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. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0097" id="link2HCH0097"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCVII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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. + </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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0098" id="link2HCH0098"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCVIII + </h2> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <p> + The sick man was Gerard, come to end life as he began it. + </p> + <p> + 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 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 + practice 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> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0099" id="link2HCH0099"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XCIX + </h2> + <p> + 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 then 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?” + </p> + <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 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> + <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, 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 ejaculations, 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. + </p> + <p> + “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 new-fangled 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.'”(1) + </p> + <p> + Then there was 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 clearance and force seemed supernaturally restored. + </p> + <p> + They instantly obeyed, not without a sentiment of awe and curiosity. + </p> + <p> + “Make me a great cross with wood ashes.” + </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> + <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> + <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> + <p> + They laid him out for his last resting-place. + </p> + <p> + Under his linen they found a horse-hair shirt. + </p> + <p> + “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> + 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> + <p> + Thus after life's fitful fever these true lovers were at peace. + </p> + <p> + 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 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 their cruel separation by a vile heresy(2) 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> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) He was citing from Clement of Rome— + + {ou di eautwn dikaioumetha oude dia tys ymeteras + sophias, y eusebeias y ergwn wn kateirgasametha en + osioteeti karthias, alla dia tys pistews}. + —Epist.ad Corinth, i. 32. +</pre> + <p> + (2) Celibacy of the clergy, an invention truly fiendish. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0100" id="link2HCH0100"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER C + </h2> + <p> + 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.e. 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. + </p> + <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 longaevous; 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 in + articulo mortis, 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, 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> + <p> + “HAEC EST PARVA DOMUS NATUS QUA MAGNUS ERASMUS,” + </p> + <p> + 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. + </p> + <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 mediaeval 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. + </p> + <div style="height: 6em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +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 1366-h.htm or 1366-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/3/6/1366/ + +Produced by Neil McLachlan and David Widger + +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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