"Your pardon, Madonna," he murmured, "I did not understand that youcould hate me so."
The fire was burning low, and the two candles in tall sconces at thefurther end of the room threw but a fitful light upon that hunched upyoung figure in the big, high-backed chair, cowering there halffrightened at her own violence, tired out with emotion, her nervesquivering after the final, tense moment which had left her exhausted andalmost unconscious.
Mark could only see her dimly; the stiff folds of her wedding gown andthe high starched collar were alone visible in the gloom; she had hiddenher face in the cushion of the chair. Presently a sob rose to herthroat, and then another, and soon she was crying just like a tiredchild. Mark felt that he had been a brute and was seized with aninfinite pity for her.
"Madonna," he said gently, "I think I can hear Jeanne's footstep in thecorridor. May I call to her to come and attend on you?"
"I thank you, Messire," murmured Lenora, who was making a great effortto swallow her tears.
"Then I pray you dry your eyes," he pleaded, "I would be so ashamed ifJeanne saw that I had made you cry."
She looked up and even in the gloom he thought that he could see a swiftsmile pass across her face.
"To-morrow an you desire," he continued more lightly, "your old dragonInez shall be here to wait on you, until then I trust that you will notfeel too lonely, away from those you care for. My mother is an angel.You will love her, I think, and my brother Laurence is learned andwell-read ... my father too is kind. We will all strive, Madonna, tomake you somewhat more contented with your lot."
"You mistake, Messire," she stammered, "I..."
But already he had bowed before her and bidden her a formal good-night.She had meant to give him her hand and to ask his forgiveness, forindeed she had behaved like an ill-tempered child--a bad beginning forthe role which she had sworn to play--but he had gone, and before shecould call him back he was speeding down the corridor and anon she heardhim loudly calling to Jeanne.
III
Lenora did not see her husband during the whole of the next day, and onthe one occasion when she ventured to ask after him--with well-feignedindifference lest any one guessed that all was not well betweenthem--Clemence van Rycke sighed, Messire the High-Bailiff gave a forcedlaugh and Laurence van Rycke frowned with obvious anger. And in theevening--when she retired to her room and felt strangely irritable andhurt at being left in such solitude--she questioned Inez, who had beenallowed to come and wait on her and who had a marvellous faculty forgleaning all the gossip that was going about the town.
"They do say, my angel," said the old woman with that complacency whichcharacterises your true gossip, "that Messire Mark van Rycke hath spenthis whole day in the tavern opposite. It is known as the 'ThreeWeavers,' and many Spanish officers are quartered in there now."
"Heaven protect us!" ejaculated Lenora involuntarily, "I trust they didnot quarrel."
"Quarrel, my saint?" retorted Inez with a spiteful little laugh, for shehad no liking for these Netherlanders. "Nay! Messire van Rycke wouldnot dare quarrel with a Spanish officer. No! no! it seems that the_tapperij_ of the 'Three Weavers' was most convivial all the day. It isalways frequented by Spanish officers, although the inn-keeper is saidto be an abominable heretic: there was much gambling and heavy drinkingthere, so they say, and even now..."
And as if to confirm the old woman's say, there came from the houseopposite and through the open windows loud noise of gay laughter andhilarious song. A deep flush rose to Lenora's face.
"Close that window, Inez," she said peremptorily, "the night hath turnedchilly."
She went to sit by the fire, and curtly dismissed the gossiping oldwoman. She knew all that she had wanted to know, and the flush of shamedeepened on her cheek. There had been times during the past week when avague hope had stirred in her heart that mayhap life did hold a smallmeasure of happiness for her. There were times when she did notaltogether dislike Mark van Rycke, when that winning merriment andgood-humour which always lurked in his eyes provoked a response in herown ... and others, when certain notes of gentleness in his voice causeda strange thrill in her heart and brought tears into her eyes, whichwere not altogether tears of sorrow. She had also felt deeplyremorseful at her conduct last night at the cruel words: "I hate you!"which she had flung so roughly in his face: indeed she could scarcelysleep all night, for she was persistently haunted by the dazed look inthose merry, grey eyes of his which had just for one brief momentflashed tender reproach on her.
But now she felt nothing but shame--shame that she should ever havethought tenderly of a man who could so wrong her, who had so littlethought of her that he could spend his whole day in a tavern whilst hisyoung girl-bride was left to loneliness and boredom in a house where shewas a total stranger. She thought him vindictive and cruel: already shehad thought so last night when he went away hurriedly without waitingfor the apology which was hovering on her lips. Now she was quite surethat she hated him, and the next time she told him so, she certainlywould not regret it.
But somehow she felt more forlorn than she had been before that dotardInez had filled her ears with gossip. The house as usual was verystill, but Lenora knew that the family had not yet gone to rest. Awhileago she thought that she had heard footsteps and a murmur of voices inthe hall below. A desire for company seized the young girl, and sheracked her brain for an excuse to go down to her mother-in-law, who sheknew was kind and who perhaps would cheer and comfort her a little andgive her kind pity in her loneliness.
CHAPTER VII
THE REBELS
I
At this same hour in the small withdrawing-room which adjoined thedining-hall in Messire van Rycke's house, five men were sitting roundthe gate-legged table in the centre of the room. At the top of thetable sat Clemence van Rycke, in a tall chair covered with crimsonvelvet; opposite to her sat a man who was dressed in rough clothes ofdark-coloured buffle, and whose ruff was of plain, coarse linen; he worea leather belt to which was fastened a heavy wallet, and high, toughboots that reached above his knee. His black hat and mantle lay on achair close by. In fact, his clothes--more than ordinarily sombre andplain--were such as the serving man of a poor burgher might wear;nevertheless this man had round his neck a crimson ribbon to which wasattached a gold pendant in the shape of a dead wether--which is thebadge worn by the Knights of the Golden Fleece.
When this man spoke the others listened to him with marked deference,and Laurence van Rycke stood all the time beside his chair and servedhim with wine. In appearance he was spare of build and tall, he worefull beard and moustache and hair brushed away from an unusually highforehead. His eyes were prominent and very keen and astute as well asfrank and kindly in expression, and his eyebrows were fully and markedlyarched.
Clemence van Rycke was the only woman present. The other three men wereall dressed in dark clothes, and their black mantles hung over the backsof their chairs. The room in which these half-dozen people wereassembled was narrow and oak-panelled; at the end of it there was a lowand very wide window recess, across which heavy curtains of crimsonvelvet had been drawn; at the side a door gave on the dining-hall; thisdoor was open and the hall beyond was in complete darkness.
The whole room was only dimly lighted by one thick wax candle whichburned in a tall sconce that stood on a bracket in an angle of the room,and threw a fitful light on the grave faces of the men sitting aroundthe table.
"The High-Bailiff hath business at the Town House," Clemence van Ryckewas saying in reply to the stranger who sat opposite to her. "He willnot be home until midnight. My son Mark, too, is from home," she addedmore curtly. "Your Highness can discuss your plans with these gentlemenin all security. And if you wish me to retire..."
She half rose as if she meant to go, but a word from the stranger kepther in her place.
"I entreat you to stay with us
, mevrouw," he said; "we would wish you tohear all that we have to say. Of a truth we have no more loyaladherents than mevrouw van Rycke and her son, and what we should havedone in this city without their help I do not know."
He turned at the same time to Laurence and stretched out his hand tohim. The young man at once bent the knee and kissed the gracious hand.
"The little that we have done, Monseigneur," said Clemence softly, "hathbeen done with great gladness seeing that it was in your service."
"Not only mine, mevrouw," rejoined the stranger. "I am but theinstrument of God's will, an humble follower of His cause. What youhave done was done for Him and for the cause of liberty, of justice andof right."
"May God's blessing rest upon your Highness' enterprise," murmuredClemence fervently. "For God and William of Orange is our cry. Yourcause is the cause of God."
"Alas!" said the Prince, with a sigh of utter weariness and dejection,"you know how little success I have had in this city ... promises!promises! promises I have in plenty, and a couple of thousand young menfrom the town have rallied to my standard. A poor result indeed afterall my efforts! So much tyranny!" he exclaimed bitterly, "such wantonoppression! the dastardly outrages at Mons and at Mechlin! and only twothousand men among thirty, willing to take up arms to defend theirliberty, their ancient privileges, their very homes!"
He leaned his elbows on the table and buried his head in his hands.Clemence van Rycke was silent as were the men; their hearts echoed allthe bitterness which had surged up in William of Orange's heart.
"Yet your Highness refuses to take me with you," said Laurence withgentle reproach.
"Only for the moment, Messire," rejoined the Prince, "only for themoment. Never fear but I will send for you as soon as I have need ofyou. Can I afford to reject so devoted a champion? But for the momentyou can do so much more for me by staying quietly at home than if youfollowed me on my recruiting campaign. I have not yet exhausted theresources and enthusiasm of this city--of that I feel confident, I shalltry again--for another week. There are still several likely houses thatI have not visited, and whose cordial invitation I have received..."
"Beware of treachery, your Highness!" broke in Clemence van Ryckesuddenly.
"Nay, Madonna," he said, whilst that same winning smile lit up thesombre dejection of his face, "but have I not told you that my dragon ison the watch? Not a step am I allowed to take in this city without hispermission. He allowed me to come to this house to-night, because heknew that I desired to express my gratitude to you personally. But I canassure you," he added, laughing softly to himself, "I had to fight forthe permission."
"Is that not insolence?" exclaimed one of the others hotly. "Were wenot to be trusted with the care of your sacred person?"
"You all, seigniors, and Messire van Rycke and his mother," rejoined thePrince; "but there are others in this house. Do not blame my devotedLeatherface," he continued earnestly; "but for him I should not be herenow. No man could be more watchful, no man more brave or moreresourceful. Countless times did he save me from the assassin's daggerand the poisoner's cup. If my life is necessary for the cause offreedom and justice, then have freedom and justice in Leatherface theirtruest and most efficient champion."
"Amen to that," rejoined Clemence van Rycke with fervour. "I only wishI knew who he was, that I might pray more personally for him."
"Ah! we none of us know who he is, Madonna," said William of Orange morelightly. "He is Leatherface, and that is enough for us. And thisreminds me that he begged me to be back at my lodgings by ten o'clock,so I have not much time to spend in this pleasing gossip. Shall we toserious business now?"
"At your Highness' service," replied Laurence, and the others alsomurmured a quick assent.
II
"Well then, seigniors, having decided on our coup we have only thedetails to consider. You have all assured me that the Duke of Alva willcome to Ghent within the next few days, and that our two thousandrecruits are ready to carry out the orders which we have framed forthem."
"The numbers will be doubled within the next few days," interposed oneof the grave seigniors with conviction. "Your Highness' presence in thetown--though only known to a very few loyalists--hath wrought miraclesalready."
"The wave of enthusiasm is spreading," asserted another.
"Well! if we had more men," quoth the Prince cheerily, "our plan would,of a surety, be more certain of success. I cannot say that I altogetherapprove of the plan--for as you know, I am a soldier and have no greatmind for plots and conspiracies; but those on whose judgment I placeinfinite confidence--men such as Messire Paul Buys, pensionary ofLeyden, Marnix of Tholouse, Marnix of St. Aldegonde and others, allapprove of it, and I have therefore given it mine assent."
He sank his voice yet lower to a whisper, and he leaned right across thetable as did the other men so that their ears were quite close to hismouth.
"The Duke of Alva comes to Ghent in about a week's time," he continued."The idea is to seize his person and hold him a prisoner here and anhostage whilst we demand the withdrawal of all the Spanish troops fromthe Netherlands and the abolition of the Spanish Inquisition."
"To seize the person of the Duke of Alva!" murmured Clemence van Rycke,and so great was the terror which the tyrant inspired in every Flemishheart, that even those who already knew of this daring plot wereappalled at the magnitude of such an outrage.
"Why not?" quoth William of Orange earnestly. "Less than a hundredyears ago the town of Brueges held the Archduke Maximilian King of theRomans a prisoner within her walls, until he swore to dismiss allforeign troops from the Netherlands within four days, and gave hostagesfor his fidelity. What Brueges did then, cannot Ghent do now? WithAlva a prisoner in our hands, we can dictate our terms to the King. Itis a bold coup, seigniors, I own, but it hath every chance of success."
A murmur of approval went round the table. Clemence alone was silent.She was old and feeble, perhaps she had seen more than one bold coupfail, and terrible reprisals follow such failures; but Laurence was fullof eagerness and enthusiasm.
"It cannot fail," he asserted vehemently. "Are there not two thousandmen in the city who are devoted to your Highness heart and soul, and whoare ready to give their lives for your cause? Two thousand, and withinthree days there will be five! more than enough for such a bold coup.It will and must succeed! One lucky hazard, and we may win all that wehave fought for, lived for, died for, for over a century."
"It cannot fail!" came with fervent conviction from every one of theothers.
"Ghent can do what Brueges hath done!" they affirmed.
"With the tyrant a prisoner in our hands, we can dictate terms asBrueges did an hundred years ago."
"Well said, seigniors," rejoined William of Orange, "and yourapproval--you who know this city so much better than I do--hath given mefurther encouragement. And now," he added with serious earnestness,"you will want to know why I convened this meeting, which by Mevrouw vanRycke's graciousness I have been able to do, and you will wish to hearwhat role hath been assigned to each of you in the great event which weare preparing."
"Let me but offer my life..." interposed Laurence eagerly.
"Nay! not your life, I hope, Messire," quoth the Prince with a smile,"your forethought and prudence and your united co-operation are what wewant. Ye are risking your lives, seigniors, in this enterprise, thatI'll not deny--but ye are men and know which you value most, your lifeor the very existence of your nation which is threatened with completedestruction."
"For Orange, for faith and for liberty!" said one of the men simply, andthe others merely murmured: "Tell us what we must do."
"You must be wary and alert above all things, seigniors, for I havechosen you for a very arduous task in connection with this enterprise,and you must recognise that however carefully we organise it, there willalways be one weak link in the chain which we are forging for thecapture of that abominable tyrant, the Duke of Alva."
<
br /> "One weak link?"
"Yes. We do not and cannot know for certain on which date Alva proposesto come to Ghent. The dates of his visits to Flemish towns are alwayskept a secret until the very moment of departure."
"He dreads assassination," interposed one man with a sneer.
"On the last occasion of the Duke's visit to Ghent," said Clemence vanRycke, "my husband was only apprised of it by courier two hours beforehis arrival. The courier had started from Brussels a bare half-hourbefore the Lieutenant-Governor and his cortege left the city."
"Precisely, and even then the High-Bailiff was in advance of every oneelse with the news," nodded the Prince, "and that is where ourdifficulty lies. How to collect together a couple of thousand men atperhaps an hour's notice--men who are scattered in different portions ofthis city and probably engaged in their usual avocations."
"Where will their leaders be?"
"Each at the different points where our secret stores of arms are kept.There are four of these points and four captains whom I have appointedto command five hundred men each. Having distributed the arms, thecaptains will lead their respective companies to the Waalpoort, where acrowd is sure to collect as soon as the rumour has spread to the townthat the Lieutenant-Governor is coming. Our men will mix with thecrowd, and at a given signal--when the Duke's cortege crosses thebridge--they will rush the bodyguard, scatter confusion among theescort, and in the melee seize the person of Alva. During theinevitable tumult that will ensue among the soldiers and the populace,our valuable hostage shall be conveyed in absolute secrecy to HetSpanjaard's Kasteel, where of course we can easily keep him a closeprisoner whilst we negotiate with the King. But this of course is forthe future, seigniors," he added, "and my concern now is to explain toyou the method which I and my councillors have devised for the callingtogether of our stalwarts as soon as the Duke's coming visit isannounced. Have I your close attention, seigniors?"
Leatherface: A Tale of Old Flanders Page 12
