Leatherface: A Tale of Old Flanders

by Baroness Emmuska Orczy Orczy

  Then, as she said nothing, but stared straight out before her at thiscrowd of people amongst whom she was doomed to live in the future, hecontinued with a tone of sullen wrath:

  "We have burnt a goodly number of these rebels, but still they swarm."

  "It is horrible!" exclaimed the young girl with a shudder.

  "Horrible, my dear love?" he said with a cynical laugh, "it is the onlyway to deal with these people. Their arrogance passes belief; theirtreachery knows no bounds. The King's sacred person would not be safehere among them; the Duke's life has often been threatened; the hereticshave pillaged and ransacked the churches! No! you must not waste yoursympathy on the people here. They are rebellious and treacherous to thecore. As for me, I hate them tenfold, for it is one of them who willtake you from me."

  "He cannot take my heart from you, Ramon, for that will be yoursalways."

  "Lenora!" he whispered once more with that fierce earnestness which heseemed unable to control, "you know what is in my mind?--what I havethought and planned ever since I realised that you were being taken fromme?"

  "What is it, Ramon?"

  "The Duke of Alva--the King himself--want you to work for them--to betheir tool. Well! so be it! You have not the strength to resist--Ihave not the power to rebel! If we did we should both be crushed likemiserable worms by the powers which know how to force obedience. Oftenhave I thought in the past two miserable days that I would kill you,Lenora, and myself afterwards, but..."

  The words died on his lips, his olive skin became almost livid in hue.Hastily he drew a tiny image from inside his doublet: with it in hishand he made the sign of the Cross, then kissed it reverently.

  "You would die unabsolved, my Lenora," he whispered, and the girl'scheeks became very white, too, as he spoke, "and I should be committinga crime for which there is no pardon ... and I could not do that," headded more firmly, "I would sooner face the fires of the Inquisitionthan those of hell."

  Superstitious fear held them both in its grip, and that fanaticalenthusiasm which in these times saw in the horrible excesses of thatexecrable Inquisition--in its torture-chambers and scaffolds andstakes--merely the means of killing bodies that were worthless andsaving immortal souls from everlasting torture and fire. Lenora wastrembling from head to foot, and tears of horror and of dread gatheredin her eyes. Don Ramon made a violent effort to regain his composureand at the same time to comfort her.

  "You must not be afraid, Lenora," he said quietly, "those demons ofblind fury, of homicide and of suicide have been laid low. I foughtwith them and conquered them. Their cruel temptations no longer assailme, and the Holy Saints themselves have shown me the way to bepatient--to wait in silence until you have fulfilled your destiny--untilyou have accomplished the work which the King and the Church will demandof you. After that, I know that the man who now will claim what I wouldgive my life to possess--you, Lenora--will be removed from your path.How it will be done, I do not know ... but he will die, Lenora, of thatI am sure. He will die before a year has gone by, and I will then comeback to you and claim you for my wife. You will be free then, and willno longer owe obedience to your father. I will claim you, Lenora! andeven now, here and at this hour, I do solemnly plight you my troth, inthe very teeth of the man whose wife you are about to be."

  "And of a truth," here broke in a pleasant and good-humoured voice witha short laugh, "it is lucky that I happened to be present here and nowand at this hour to register this exceedingly amiable vow."

  V

  Don Ramon de Linea had jumped to his feet; his hand was upon hissword-hilt; instinctively he had placed himself in front of donna Lenoraand facing the intruder who was standing beside the velvet curtain, withone hand holding back its heavy folds.

  "Messire van Rycke?" he exclaimed, whilst he strove to put into hisattitude all the haughtiness and dignity of which the present situationhad undoubtedly robbed him.

  "At your service, senor," replied Mark.

  "You were spying on donna Lenora and on me, I see."

  "Indeed not, senor. I only happened upon the scene--quite accidentally,I assure you--at the moment when you were prophesying my early demiseand arranging to be present at my funeral."

  "Are you trying to be insolent, sirrah?" quoth don Ramon roughly.

  "Not I, senor," rejoined Mark, good-humouredly, "I should succeed soill. My intention was when I saw senor de Vargas' angry glancepersistently directed against my future wife to save her from theconsequences of his wrath, and incidentally to bear her company forawhile: a proceeding for which--I think you will admit, senor--I havethe fullest right."

  "You have no rights over this gracious lady, fellow," retorted theSpaniard with characteristic arrogance.

  "None, I own, save those which she deigns to confer upon me. And if shebid me begone, I will go."

  "Begone then, you impudent varlet!" cried don Ramon, whose temper wasnot proof against the other's calm insolence, "ere I run my swordthrough your miserable body...."

  "Hush, Ramon," here interposed donna Lenora with cool authority, "youforget your own dignity and mine in this unseemly quarrel. Messire vanRycke is in the right. An he desires to speak with me I am at hisdisposal."

  "Not before he has arranged to meet me at the back of his father's houseat daybreak to-morrow. Bring your witnesses, sirrah! I'll condescendto fight you fairly."

  "You could not do that, senor," replied Mark van Rycke with perfectequanimity, "I am such a poor swordsman and you so cunning a fighter. Iam good with my fists, but it would be beneath the dignity of a grandeeof Spain to measure fists with a Flemish burgher. Still--if it is yourpleasure..."

  Although this altercation had been carried on within the depth of a vastwindow embrasure and with heavy curtains to right and left to deaden thesound of angry voices, the fact that two men were quarrelling in thepresence of donna Lenora de Vargas had become apparent to not a few.

  De Vargas himself, who for the past quarter of an hour had viewed withgrowing wrath his daughter's intimate conversation with don Ramon deLinea, saw what was happening, and realised that within the next fewmoments an exceedingly unpleasant scandal would occur which would placedon Ramon de Linea--a Spanish officer of high rank, commanding thegarrison in Ghent--in a false and humiliating position.

  In these days, however, and with the perfect organisation of which deVargas himself was a most conspicuous member, such matters were veryeasily put right. A scandal under the present circumstances would beprejudicial to Spanish prestige, therefore no scandal must occur: afight between a Spanish officer and the future husband of donna Lenorade Vargas might have unpleasant consequences for the latter, thereforeeven a provocation must be avoided.

  And it was done quite simply: don Juan de Vargas whispered to a man whostood not far from him and who was dressed very quietly in a kind oflivery of sombre purple and black--the livery worn by servants of theInquisition. The man, without a word, left de Vargas' side and edgedhis way along the panelled walls of the great hall till he reached thewindow embrasure where the little scene was taking place. He had shoeswith soles of felt and made no noise as he glided unobtrusively alongthe polished floor. Neither Mark van Rycke nor don Ramon de Linea sawhim approach, but just as the latter, now wholly beside himself withrage, was fingering his glove with a view to flinging it in the other'sface, the man in the purple and black livery touched him lightly on theshoulder and whispered something in his ear. Then he walked away assilently, as unobtrusively as he had come.

  But don Ramon de Linea's rage fell away from him like a mantle; theglove fell from his nerveless hand to the floor. He bit his lip till atiny drop of blood appeared upon it; then he hastily turned on his heel,and after a deep bow to donna Lenora but without another word to Markvan Rycke he walked away, and soon disappeared among the crowd.

  VI

  Donna Lenora was leaning back against the cushioned window-sill, herhands lay in her lap, sli
ghtly quivering and twisting a tiny lacehandkerchief between the fingers: in her eyes, which obviously followedfor some time the movements of don Ramon's retreating figure, there wasa pathetic look as that of a frightened child. She seemed quite unawareof Mark's presence, and he remained leaning back against the angle ofthe embrasure, watching the girl for awhile, then, as she remained quitesilent and apparently desirous of ignoring him altogether, he turned tolook with indifferent gaze on the ever-changing and moving picturebefore him.

  One or two of the high officers of State had retired, and the departureof these pompous Spanish officials was the signal for greater freedomand merriment among the guests of the High-Bailiff and of the Sheriffsof the city of Ghent. The orchestra in the gallery up above had struckup the measure of a lively galliarde the centre of the hall had beencleared, and the young people were dancing whilst the graver folk madecircle around them, in order to watch the dance.

  As was usual, the moment that dancing began and hilarity held sway, mostof the guests slipped on a velvet mask, which partly hid the face andwas supposed--owing to the certain air of mystery which it conveyed--toconfer greater freedom of speech upon the wearer and greater ease ofmanner. There were but few of the rich Spanish doublets to be seen now:the more garish colours beloved of the worthy burghers of Flanders heldundisputed sway. But here and there a dark figure or two--clad in purpleand black of a severe cut--were seen gliding in and out among the crowd,and wherever they appeared they seemed to leave a trail of silencebehind them.

  Mark was just about to make a serious effort at conversing with hisfiancee, and racking his brain as to what subject of gossip wouldinterest her most, when a man in sombre attire, and wearing a mask, cameclose up to his elbow. Mark looked him quietly up and down.

  "Laurence!" he said without the slightest show of surprise, and turningwell away from donna Lenora so that she should not hear.

  "Hush!" said the other. "I don't want father to knew that I am here ...but I couldn't keep away."

  "How did you get through?"

  "Oh! I disclosed myself to the men-at-arms. No one seemed astonished."

  "Why should they be? Your escapade is not known."

  "Has everything gone off well?" queried Laurence.

  "Admirably," replied the other dryly. "I was just about to make myselfagreeable to my fiancee when you interrupted me."

  "I'll not hinder you."

  "Have you been home at all?"

  "Yes. My heart ached for our dear mother, and though my resolution wasjust as firm, I wanted to comfort her. I slipped into the house, justafter you had left. I saw our mother, and she told me what you haddone. I am very grateful."

  "And did you speak to father?"

  "Only for a moment. He came up to say 'good-night' to mother when I wasleaving her room. She had told me the news, so I no longer tried toavoid him. Of course he is full of wrath against me for the fright Igave him, but, on the whole, meseemed as if his anger was mostlypretence and he right glad that things turned out as they have done. Iam truly grateful to you, Mark," reiterated Laurence earnestly.

  "Have I not said that all is for the best?" rejoined Mark dryly. "Nowstand aside, man, and let me speak to my bride."

  "She is very beautiful, Mark!"

  "Nay! it is too late to think of that, man!" quoth Mark with hishabitual good-humour; "we cannot play shuttlecock with the lovelyLenora, and she is no longer for you."

  "I'll not interfere, never fear. It was only curiosity that got thebetter of me and the longing to get a glimpse of her."

  VII

  This rapid colloquy between the two brothers had been carried on inwhispers, and both had drawn well away from the window embrasure,leaving the velvet curtain between them and donna Lenora so as to deadenthe sound of their voices and screen them from her view.

  But now Mark turned back to his fiancee, ready for that _tete-a-tete_with her which he felt would be expected of him; he found her stillsitting solitary and silent on the low window seat, with the cold glintof moonlight on her hair and the red glow of the candles in the ballroomthrowing weird patches of vivid light and blue shadows upon her whitesilk gown.

  "Do I intrude upon your meditations, senorita?" he asked, "do you wishme to go?"

  "I am entirely at your service, Messire," she replied coldly, "as you sojustly remarked to don Ramon de Linea, you have every right to mycompany an you so desire."

  "I expressed myself clumsily, I own," he retorted a little impatiently,"nothing was further from my thoughts than to force my company upon you.But," he added whimsically, "meseems that--since we are destined tospend so much of our future together--we might make an early start atmutual understanding."

  "And you thought that conversation in a ballroom would be a good startfor the desirable purpose?" she asked.

  "Why not?"

  "As you say: why not?" she replied lightly, "there is so little that wecan say to one another that it can just as well be said in a ballroom.We know so little of one another at present--and so long as my lookshave not displeased you..."

  "Your beauty, senorita, has no doubt been vaunted by more able lips thanmine: I acknowledge it gratefully and without stint as an additionalgift of God."

  "Additional?" she asked with a slight raising of her brows.

  "Aye! additional!" he replied, "because my first glance of you told meplainly that you are endowed with all the most perfect attributes ofwomanhood. Good women," he added quaintly, "are so often plain andbeautiful women so often unpleasant, that to find in one's future wifegoodness allied to beauty is proof that one of singularly blessed."

  "Which compliment, Messire, would be more acceptable if I felt that itwas sincere. Your praise of my looks is flattering; as to my goodness,you have no proof of it."

  "Nay! there you wrong yourself, senorita. Are you not marrying meentirely against your will, and because you desire to be obedient toyour father and to the Duke of Alva? Are you not marrying me out ofloyalty to your King, to your country, and to your church? A woman whois as loyal and submissive as that, will be loyal to her husband too."

  "This will I strive to be, Messire," rejoined Lenora, who either did notor would not perceive the slight tone of good-humoured mockery whichlurked in Mark van Rycke's amiable speech. "I will strive to be loyalto you, since my father and the King himself, it seems, have desiredthat I should be your wife."

  "But, by the Mass," he retorted gaily, "I shall expect something morethan loyalty and submission from so beautiful a wife, you know."

  "Next to the King and to my faith," she replied coldly, "you will alwaysbe first in my thoughts."

  "And in your heart, I trust, senorita," he said.

  "We are not masters of our heart, Messire."

  "Well, so long as that precious guerdon is not bestowed on another man,"said Mark with a sigh, "I suppose that I shall have to be satisfied."

  "Aye, satisfied," broke in the girl with sudden vehemence. "Satisfied,did you say, Messire? You are satisfied to take a wife whom till to-dayyou had not even seen--who was bargained for on your behalf by yourfather because it suited some political scheme of which you have noteven cognizance. Satisfied!" she reiterated bitterly; "more satisfiedapparently with this bargaining than if you were buying a horse, forthere, at least, you would have wished to see the animal ere you closedwith the deal, and know something of its temper.... But a wife! ...What matters what she thinks and feels? if she be cold or loving, gentleor shrewish, sensitive to a kind word or callous to cruelty? A wife!... Well! so long as no other man hath ever kissed her lips--for thatwould hurt masculine vanity and wound the pride of possession! I am onlya woman, made to obey my father first, and my husband afterwards....But you, a man! ... Who forced you to obey? ... No one! And you did notcare.... This marriage was spoken of a month ago, and Segovia is not atthe end of the world--did you even take the trouble to go a-courting methere? Did you even care to see me, though I have been close on a weekin this
country? ... You spoke of my heart just now ... how do you hopeto win it? ... Well! let me tell you this, Messire, that though I mustabide by the bargain which my father and yours have entered into for mybody, my heart and my soul belong to my cousin, Ramon de Linea!"

  She had thus poured forth the torrent of bitterness and resentment whichhad oppressed her heart all this while: she spoke with intensevehemence, but with it all retained just a sufficiency of presence ofmind not to raise her voice--it came like a hoarse murmur choked attimes with sobs, but never loud enough to be heard above the mingledsound of music and gaiety which echoed from wall to wall of themagnificent room. So, too, was she careful of gesture; she kept herhands pressed close against her heart, save when from time to time shebrushed away impatiently an obtrusive tear, or pushed back the tendrilsof her fair hair from her moist forehead.

  Mark had listened quite quietly to her impassioned tirade: there was nosuspicion now in his grave face of that good-humoured irony andindifference which sat there so habitually. Of course he could saynothing to justify himself: he could not explain to this beautiful,eminently desirable and sensitive woman, whose self-respect had alreadybeen gravely wounded, that he was not to blame for not going to woo herbefore; that she had originally been intended for his brother, and thatall the reproaches which she was pouring upon his innocent head werereally well deserved by Laurence but not by him. He felt that he wascutting a sorry figure at this moment, and the sensation that wasuppermost in him was a strong desire to give his elder brother a kick.