He had indeed. The four men round the table bent forward more eagerlystill so as not to lose one word of their noble chief's commands. Butbefore they could formulate the words of loyalty and of enthusiasm whichhovered on their lips, a soft sound like the beating of a bird's wingagainst the window-pane froze those whispered words upon their lips.
Every head was immediately turned to the window, every face became rigidand pale, every brow was contracted with the effort to strain thefaculty of hearing to its tensest point. It seemed as if six pairs ofglowing eyes would pierce the folds of the velvet curtain which hungbefore the window.
III
The Prince was the first to recover himself.
"It is Leatherface," he whispered, "come to give me warning."
He rose and would have gone to the window, but Clemence van Rycke caughthim by the arm and clung convulsively to him. "Not you, Monseigneur,"she entreated, "not you--it might be a traitor."
Then the tapping was repeated and Laurence went cautiously up to thewindow, and after an instant's hesitation, he suddenly drew the curtainsaside with a resolute gesture. Then he unfastened the tall casement andthrew it open.
The night was of an inky blackness, and as the lattice flew open a gustof wind and heavy driving rain nearly extinguished the light of thecandle, but in the framework of the window a man's head and shouldersdetached themselves from out the gloom. The head and shoulders wereclosely enveloped in a hood and cape, and the face was hidden by a mask,and all were dripping with wet.
"Leatherface!" murmured the Prince, and Clemence van Rycke gave a sighof relief.
"There is a light in the window above," whispered the man with the mask,"and a shadow has crossed behind the windows of the corridor. Someoneis astir overhead--and the civic business at the Town House is drawingto an end."
"We have nearly finished," murmured the Prince in reply. "And I'll comeaway at once. Is the street clear?"
"Quite--and will be for another ten minutes till the night-watchmancomes round. I saw him just now, he is very drunk and might maketrouble."
"I come, friend," rejoined the Prince, "and as soon as may be."
The hooded head disappeared in the gloom; Laurence closed the window anddrew the curtains together again.
"I envy that man," he said, and Clemence murmured a fervent: "God blesshim!"
IV
Then the Prince turned once more to his friends.
"You see," he said with his grave smile, "how carefully my dragon guardsme. There is evidently no time for lengthy explanations, and I must beas brief as I can."
He now opened the wallet at his belt and took out from it a small packetof papers.
"I am going to entrust these papers to Messire Laurence van Rycke," hesaid, "they contain the names and places of abode and of business ofevery one of those two thousand men who have actually tendered me theiroath of allegiance, and have sworn to give me unconditional support. Ipropose that Messire van Rycke keep these lists, because it willundoubtedly be his father, the High-Bailiff, who will learn sooner thanany one else in the town the day and hour of the Duke of Alva's visit toGhent. As soon as this is known to him, Messire van Rycke will then goto each of you, seigniors, and give you each a list of five hundrednames, at the head of which will be noted the rallying point where thesemen will have to meet their captain and receive their arms. You in yourturn will then each go and beat up the five hundred men whose names willhave been given you, and order them to go to their respective rallyingpoints. All this plan," added the Prince, "has been very carefullythought out, and it seems to me simple and easy of execution. But ifany of you, seigniors, can think of a better one, I am, of course,always ready to take advice. You know your own city, better than Ido--you might devise something still more practical than what Ipropose."
"Nay!" interposed one of the men, "meseems that nothing could be moresimple, and I for one do vote unconditionally for the acceptance of HisHighness' plan."
The others all gave their assent--hastily now, for again that gentletapping was heard against the window-pane, only rather more firmly, moreurgently this time. But no one went to the window to see what thetapping meant; obviously the faithful watcher outside scented some stillhidden danger. The Prince at once by rising gave the signal that theconference was at an end. As he did so he handed the packet of papersto Laurence van Rycke who received it on bended knee.
"It is a treasure, Messire," said William of Orange earnestly, "whichinvolves the lives of many and even, perhaps, the whole existence ofthis city. Where will you keep it?"
It was Clemence van Rycke who replied:
"This room," she said, "is mine own private withdrawing-room; thatbureau there hath a wonderful lock which defies the cleverest thief; itcontains my most valuable jewels. The papers will be safer there thananywhere."
"Let me see you lock them up in there, mevrouw," rejoined the Princegraciously, "I entrust them to you and to Laurence with utmostconfidence."
Clemence then handed a key to her son and he locked the packet up in thetall bureau of carved and inlaid mahogany and satin-wood which stood inan angle of the narrow room close to the window and opposite to thedoor.
"I am meeting some friends and adherents to-morrow," said William ofOrange finally, "at the house of Messire the Procurator-General whom ofa truth God will bless for his loyalty--and I pray you, seigniors, asmany of you as can do so to meet me there at this same hour. But shouldwe not meet again, do you understand all that you have to do?"
The men nodded in silence, whereupon the Prince took formal leave ofthem and of his host and hostess. He said kind and grateful words toClemence van Rycke, who, with tears in her eyes, kissed the gracioushand which was held out to her. She then escorted her noble guest outof the room and across the dining-hall, the others following closelybehind. All were treading as noiselessly as they could. The door whichgave from the dining-room on the hall and staircase beyond was wideopen: the room itself was in absolute darkness, and only a tiny lightflickered in the hall, which made the shadows round corners and inrecesses appear all the more dense.
"Will your Highness grope your way to the front door," whisperedClemence van Rycke, "or shall my son bring a lanthorn to guide you?"
"No, no," said William of Orange hurriedly, "that small light yonder isquite sufficient. I can see my way, and we must try not to wake yourhall-porter."
"Oh! nothing will rouse him save a very severe shaking, and the boltsand bars have been left undone, as my husband will be coming home lateto-night."
"And, if I am not mistaken," quoth the Prince, "my devoted friendLeatherface is waiting for me outside to see me safely to my lodgings.He is always mistrustful of hidden traps or hired assassins for me.Farewell, seigniors!" he added lightly, "remember my instructions incase we do not meet again."
"But to-morrow..." interposed Laurence van Rycke.
"Aye! to-morrow," said William of Orange, "at this hour at the house ofMessire Deynoot, the Procurator-General: those of you, seigniors, whocare to come will be welcome."
"Not one of us would care to stay away," rejoined Laurence with earnestconviction.
CHAPTER VIII
THE WATCHER IN THE NIGHT
I
Lenora, thinking that Mevrouw van Rycke was still astir, and pining formotherly comfort and companionship, had crept softly down the stairscandle in hand, when all of a sudden she paused in the vast hall.Everything was so still and so weird that any noise, even that of amouse skimming over a carpet, would have made itself felt in theabsolute silence which lay over the house, and Lenora's ear had mostcertainly heard--or rather felt, a noise--the sound of people moving andspeaking somewhere, not very far from where she stood ... listening ...every sense on the alert.
With a sudden instinct, half of fear and half of caution, she blew outthe candle and then groped
her way, with hands outstretched, hardlydaring to breathe. The tiny, flickering light which came from an ironlamp fixed to a bracket at the foot of the stairs made the hall seem yetmore vast and strange; but one small, elvish ray caught the polishedbrass handle of the dining-room door, and this glimmer of metal seemedto attract Lenora toward it. After awhile her eyes became a little moreaccustomed to the gloom, she tip-toed up to that door-handle which soattracted her, and placing both her hands upon it, she crouchedthere--beside the door--listening.
In effect there were people moving and talking not far from where shecrouched--no doubt that they were in the small withdrawing-room beyond,and that the door of communication between the two rooms was open.Lenora--motionless, palpitating, her heart beating so that it nearlychoked her, felt that all her faculties must now be merged into those ofhearing, and, if possible, seeing what was going on in this house, andat this hour of the night when the High-Bailiff was from home.
Whether any thought of conspiracy or of State secrets had at this timeentered her head it were impossible to say, whether she thought ofRamon's murderer or of her oath to her father just then, who can tell?Certainly not the girl herself--she only listened--listened with all hermight, and anon she heard the scraping of a chair against the tiledfloor, then the iron rings of a curtain sliding along the rod, finallythe whistling sound of a gust of wind rushing through an open window.This moment she chose as her opportunity. She turned the handle of thedoor very gently, and quite noiselessly it responded to her touch. Thenshe pushed the door wide open and waited--listening.
The door into the withdrawing-room was wide open just as she hadconjectured, the wind was blowing the feeble light about which flickeredin that room, and there were men in there who moved stealthily and spokein whispers. Lenora crept forward--furtive as a mouse. The darkness inthe dining-hall was impenetrable, and she in her house-dress of darkwoollen stuff made no noise as she glided along, keeping well within thegloom, her hands stretched out before her to feel the objects that mightbe in her way.
At last she came within range of the open door and had a view of thelittle room beyond. She saw the table in the centre, the men sittingaround it, and Clemence van Rycke in a high-back chair at its furtherend. Just now they all had their faces turned toward the window, wherein the open casement the head and shoulders of a man were dimly visibleto Lenora for one instant and then disappeared.
After that she heard the men talking together and heard what they said:she saw that one man appeared to be the recipient of great marks ofrespect, and that the others called him "Your Highness." She was nowlistening as if her very life depended on what she heard--crouching inthe angle of the dining-room as closely as her unwieldy farthingalewould allow. She heard the man whom the others called "Your Highness,"and who could be none other than the Prince of Orange, explain to theothers a plan for massing together two thousand men in connection with aforthcoming visit of the Duke of Alva to Ghent, she heard the word"Leatherface" and a great deal about a packet of papers. She heard thePrince speak about a meeting to-morrow in the house of theProcurator-General, and finally she saw Laurence van Rycke take a packetof papers from the Prince's hand and lock it up in the bureau that stoodclose to the window.
Indeed she could not for a moment be in doubt as to the meaning of whatshe saw and heard.
Here was a living proof of that treachery, that underhand conspiracy ofwhich her father had so often spoken to her of late! Here were theseNetherlanders, living under the beneficent and just laws of theirSovereign Lord and Master King Philip of Spain--the man who in everyborn Spaniard's eyes was greater, nobler, more just and more mercifulthan any other monarch alive, who next to His Holiness himself wassurely anointed by God Himself and placed upon the mightiest throne onearth so that he might administer God's will upon all his subjects--andhere were these traitors plotting and planning against the Government ofthat high and noble monarch, plotting against his representative, theLieutenant-Governor whom he had himself put in authority over them.
To a girl born and bred in the atmosphere of quasi-worship whichsurrounded Philip's throne, the revolt of these Netherlanders was themost heinous outrage any people could commit. She understood now thehatred and loathing which her father had for them--she hated them too,since one of these vile conspirators had foully murdered her cousinRamon in the dark.
"Leatherface!"--the man in the room below whom the others called "YourHighness" spoke of Leatherface as his friend!
A Prince consorting with a hired assassin! and Lenora felt that herwhole soul was filled with loathing for all these people. Was not theman who had killed Ramon--foully, surreptitiously and in the dark--washe not even now just outside this very house--the house which was to beher home for life--waiting mayhap for some other unsuspecting Spanishofficer whom he could murder in the same cowardly and treacherousway?--and were not all these people in that room yonder, execrableassassins too?--had she not heard them speaking of armedconspirators?--and could she not see even now in her mind's eye theunsuspecting Duke of Alva falling into their abominable trap?
But horror-struck as she was, she never stirred. Truth to tell, asudden fear held her now--the fear that she might be detected ere shehad done her best to save the Duke from this infamous plot. What shewould do presently, she did not know as yet--for the moment all that sheneeded was safety from discovery and the privacy of her own room whereshe could pray and think.
After Laurence had locked the papers in the bureau it was obvious thatthe meeting was at an end. She had only just time to flit like a darkghost through the dining-hall and to reach the stairs, before she heardunmistakable signs that the Prince and his friends were taking leave oftheir host and hostess. Gathering her wide gown together in her hands,she crept up the stairs as fast as she could. Fortunately she was wellout of the range of the small light at the foot of the stairs, beforethe five men and Clemence van Rycke came out into the hall. She heardtheir few words of farewell and heard the Prince arranging for themeeting the next evening at the house of Messire Deynoot.
After that she felt that further delay would inevitably spell detection.Even now someone must have opened the front door, for a gust of wind andheavy rain driving into the house told the listener quite clearly thatthe Prince and his friends were leaving the house: anon Clemence andLaurence would be going up to their own apartments.
As swiftly, as furtively as a mouse, Lenora made her way up the stairs:and now there she sat once more in the vast bedchamber, quivering withexcitement and with horror, listening for footsteps outside her door.She heard Clemence van Rycke's shuffling footsteps passing down thecorridor, and Laurence's more firm ones following closely in their wake:a few whispered words were spoken by mother and son, then doors wereclosed and all was still once more.
II
The fire had burnt low, only the last dying embers of the charred pinelogs threw a wide glowing band across the centre of the room. Lenorasitting by the fire had scarcely moved for a quarter of an hour or evenmore. Anon she heard the opening and shutting of the front door.
It was the High-Bailiff returning home--not knowing, of a truth, thathis house had just been used as a meeting-place for conspirators. Thehall-porter slept between two doors in the outer lobby. Lenora heardhim scrambling out of bed, and the High-Bailiff's voice bidding himclose everything up for the night. Then came the pushing home of barsand bolts and the rattle of chains, and finally the sound of theHigh-Bailiff's heavy footsteps across the hall and up the stairs.
After that silence once more.
Lenora, however, still sat on for awhile staring into the glow. Vaguelyshe wondered if Mark would be staying out all night, or whether he hadbeen home all along, knowing perhaps, and perhaps not caring about, whatwas going on in his father's house; keeping aloof from it all: or likeLaurence, up to his neck in all this treachery and abominable rebellion!
Another quarter-of-an-hour went by: the clock of St. Bavon had chimedthe half
after eleven, and now the quarter before midnight. Lenora feltthat at last she might slip downstairs with safety.
Quickly now she took off her stuff gown and heavy farthingale which hadso impeded her movements awhile ago, and groped in the press for aclinging robe which would envelop her closely and glide noiselessly uponthe tiled floors.
There is absolutely no doubt that all through this time Lenora actedalmost unconsciously. She never for one moment paused to think: she wasimpelled by a force which she herself could not have defined--a forcewhich can best be described as a blind instinct. Obedience! She hadbeen born and bred in obedience and a sense of sacred duty to her Kingas Sovereign Lord, to her faith and to her father.
In the convent at Segovia she had learned the lesson of obedience soabsolutely that it never entered her mind to question the decrees ofthose three all-potent arbiters of her destiny. And when--as now--thehour came when the most sacred oath she had ever spoken had to befulfilled, she would have thought it a deadly sin to search her ownheart, to study her feelings, to argue with herself about it. She wouldas soon have thought of arguing with God.
Leatherface: A Tale of Old Flanders Page 13
