CHAPTER VII
ONE bright morning unwonted velvet shone, unwonted feathers waved, andhorses' hoofs glinted and rang through the streets of Tergou, and thewindows and balconies were studded with wondering faces. The Frenchambassador was riding through to sport in the neighbouring forest.
Besides his own suite he was attended by several servants of the Duke ofBergundy, lent to do him honour and minister to his pleasure. The duke'stumbler rode before him with a grave, sedate majesty that made his morenoble companions, seem light, frivolous persons. But ever and anon, whenrespect and awe neared the oppressive, he rolled off his horse soignobly and funnily that even the ambassador was fain to burst outlaughing. He also climbed up again by the tail in a way provocative ofmirth, and so he played his part. Towards the rear of the pageant rodeone that excited more attention still--the duke's leopard. A huntsmanmounted on a Flemish horse of prodigious size and power, carried a longbox fastened to the rider's loins by straps curiously contrived, and onthis box sat a bright leopard crouching. She was chained to thehuntsman. The people admired her glossy hide and spots, and pressednear, and one or two were for feeling her, and pulling her tail; thenthe huntsman shouted in a terrible voice, "Beware! At Antwerp one didbut throw a handful of dust at her, and the duke made dust of him."
"Gramercy!"
"I speak sooth. The good duke shut him up in prison, in a cell underground, and the rats cleaned the flesh off his bones in a night. Servedhim right for molesting the poor thing." There was a murmur of fear, andthe Tergovians shrank from tickling the leopard of their sovereign.
But an incident followed that raised their spirits again. The duke'sgiant, a Hungarian seven feet four inches high, brought up the rear.This enormous creature had, like some other giants, a treble, flutyvoice of little power. He was a vain fellow, and not conscious of thisnor any defect. Now it happened he caught sight of Giles sitting on topof the balcony; so he stopped and began to make fun of him.
"Hallo! brother!" squeaked he, "I had nearly passed without seeingthee."
"_You_ are plain enough to see," bellowed Giles, in his bass tones.
"Come on my shoulder, brother," squeaked Titan, and held out a shoulderof mutton fist to help him down.
"If I do I'll cuff your ears," roared the dwarf.
The giant saw the homuncule was irascible, and played upon him, beingencouraged thereto by the shouts of laughter. For he did not see thatthe people were laughing not at his wit, but at the ridiculousincongruity of the two voices--the gigantic feeble fife, and the petty,deep, loud drum, the mountain delivered of a squeak and the mole-hillbelching thunder.
The singular duet came to as singular an end. Giles lost all patienceand self-command, and being a creature devoid of fear, and in a rage toboot, he actually dropped upon the giant's neck, seized his hair withone hand, and punched his head with the other. The giant's first impulsewas to laugh, but the weight and rapidity of the blows soon correctedthat inclination.
"He! he! Ah! ha! hallo! oh! oh! Holy saints! here! help! or I mustthrottle the imp. I can't! I'll split your skull against the----" and hemade a wild run backwards at the balcony. Giles saw his danger, seizedthe balcony in time with both hands, and whipped over it just as thegiant's head came against it with a stunning crack. The people roaredwith laughter and exultation at the address of their little champion.The indignant giant seized two of the laughers, knocked them togetherlike dumb-bells, shook them and strewed them flat--(Catherine shriekedand threw her apron over Giles)--then strode wrathfully away after theparty. This incident had consequences no one then present foresaw. Itsimmediate results were agreeable. The Tergovians turned proud of Giles,and listened with more affability to his prayers for parchment. For hedrove a regular trade with his brother Gerard in this article. Wentabout and begged it gratis, and Gerard gave him coppers for it.
On the afternoon of the same day, Catherine and her daughter werechatting together about their favourite theme, Gerard, his goodness, hisbenefice, and the brightened prospects of the whole family.
Their good luck had come to them in the very shape they would havechosen; besides the advantages of a benefice such as the CountessCharolois would not disdain to give, there was the feminine delight athaving a priest, a holy man, in their own family. "He will marryCornelis, and Sybrandt: for they can wed (good housewives), now if theywill. Gerard will take care of you and Giles, when we are gone."
"Yes mother, and we can confess to him instead of to a stranger," saidKate.
"Ay, girl! and he can give the sacred oil to your father and me, andclose our eyes when our time comes."
"Oh, mother! not for many, many years I do pray Heaven. Pray speak notof 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 allpain; it does seem so strange; and I feel so bright and happy,that--mother, can you keep a secret?"
"Nobody better, child. Why, you know I can."
"Then I will show you something so beautiful. You never saw the like, Itrow. Only Gerard must never know; for sure he means to surprise uswith; he covers it up so, and sometimes he carries it away altogether."
Kate took her crutches, and moved slowly away, leaving her mother in anexalted state of curiosity. She soon returned with something in a cloth,uncovered it, and there was a lovely picture of the Virgin, with all herinsignia, and wearing her tiara over a wealth of beautiful hair, whichflowed loose over her shoulders. Catherine, at first was struck withawe.
"It is herself," she cried; "it is the Queen of Heaven. I never saw onelike her to my mind before."
"And her eyes, mother: lifted to the sky, as if they belonged there, andnot to a mortal creature. And her beautiful hair of burning gold."
"And to think I have a son that can make the saints live again upon apiece of wood!"
"The reason is, he is a young saint himself, mother. He is too good forthis world; he is here to portray the blessed, and then to go away andbe with them for ever."
Ere they had half done admiring it, a strange voice was heard at thedoor. By one of the furtive instincts of their sex they hastily hid thepicture in the cloth, though there was no need. And the next moment incame, casting his eyes furtively around, a man that had not entered thehouse this ten years--Ghysbrecht Van Swieten.
The two women were so taken by surprise, that they merely stared at himand at one another, and said, "The Burgomaster!" in a tone soexpressive, that Ghysbrecht felt compelled to answer it.
"Yes! I own, the last time I came here was not on a friendly errand. Menlove their own interest--Eli's and mine were contrary. Well, let thisvisit atone for the last. To-day I come on your business, and none ofmine." Catherine and her daughter exchanged a swift glance ofcontemptuous incredulity. They knew the man better than he thought.
"It is about your son Gerard."
"Ay! ay! you want him to work for the town all for nothing. He told us."
"I come on no such errand. It is to let you know he has fallen into badhands."
"Now Heaven and the saints forbid! Man, torture not a mother! Speak out,and quickly: speak ere you have time to coin a falsehood: we know thee."
Ghysbrecht turned pale at this affront, and spite mingled with the othermotives that brought him here. "Thus it is, then," said he, grinding histeeth, and speaking very fast. "Your son Gerard is more like to be thefather of a family than a priest: he is for ever with Margaret, PeterBrandt's red-haired girl, and he loves her like a cow her calf."
Mother and daughter both burst out laughing. Ghysbrecht stared at them.
"What, you knew it?"
"Carry this tale to those who know not my son Gerard. Women are noughtto him."
"Other women, mayhap. But this one is the apple of his eye to him orwill be, if you part them not, and soon. Come, dame, make me not wastetime and friendly counsel: my servant has seen them together a score oftimes, handed, and reading babies in one another's eyes like--you know,dame--you have been young too."
"Gir
l, I am ill at ease. Yea I have been young, and know how blind andfoolish the young are. My heart! He has turned me sick in a moment.Kate, if it should be true."
"Nay, nay!" cried Kate, eagerly. "Gerard might love a young woman: allyoung men do: I can't find what they see in them to love so: but if hedid 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 thepicture--there: if his heart was earthly could he paint the Queen ofHeaven like that--look! look!" and she held the picture outtriumphantly, and more radiant and beautiful in this moment ofenthusiasm than ever dead picture was or will be, overpowered theburgomaster with her eloquence and her feminine proof of Gerard'spurity. His eyes and mouth opened, and remained open: in which statethey kept turning face and all, as if on a pivot, from the picture tothe women, and from the women to the picture.
"Why, it is herself," he gasped.
"Isn't it?" cried Kate, and her hostility was softened. "You admire it?I forgive you for frightening us."
"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 thatis proof he cannot love her. Why they all paint their sweethearts,painters do."
"A picture of the girl?" exclaimed Kate, shocked. "Fie! this is no girl;this is our blessed Lady."
"No; no, it is Margaret Brandt."
"Oh blind! It is the Queen of Heaven."
"No; only of Sevenbergen village."
"Profane man! behold her crown!"
"Silly child! look at her red hair! Would the Virgin be seen in redhair? She who had the pick of all the colours ten thousand years beforethe world began."
At this moment an anxious face was insinuated round the edge of the opendoor: it was their neighbour Peter Buyskens.
"What is to do?" said he in a cautious whisper. "We can hear you allacross the street. What on earth is to do?"
"O, neighbour! What is to do? Why here is the burgomaster blackening ourGerard."
"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."
"What is she a witch, too?"
"Else the egg takes not after the bird. Why is her father called themagician? I tell you they bewitched this very Peter here; they castunholy spells on him, and cured him of the colic: now, Peter, look andtell me who is that? and you be silent, women, for a moment, if you can;who is it, Peter?"
"Well to be sure!" said Peter in reply: and his eye seemed fascinated bythe picture.
"Who is it?" repeated Ghysbrecht, impetuously.
Peter Buyskens smiled. "Why you know as well as I do; but what have theyput a crown on her for, I never saw her in a crown, for my part."
"Man alive! Can't you open your great jaws, and just speak a wench'sname plain out to oblige three people?"
"I'd do a great deal more to oblige one of you than that, burgomaster.If it isn't as natural as life!"
"Curse the man! he won't, he won't--curse him!"
"Why, what have I done, now?"
"Oh, sir!" said little Kate, "for pity's sake tell us; are these thefeatures of a living woman, of--of--Margaret Brandt?"
"A mirror is not truer, my little maid."
"But is it she, sir, for very certain?"
"Why, who else should it be?"
"Now, why couldn't you say so at once?" snarled Ghysbrecht.
"I did say so, as plain as I could speak," snapped Peter; and theygrowled over this small bone of contention so zealously, that they didnot see Catherine and her daughter had thrown their aprons over theirheads, and were rocking to and fro in deep distress. The next momentElias came in from the shop, and stood aghast. Catherine, though herface was covered, knew his footstep.
"That is my poor man," she sobbed. "Tell him, good Peter Buyskens, for Ihave not the courage."
Elias turned pale. The presence of the burgomaster in his house, afterso many years of coolness, coupled with his wife's and daughter'sdistress, made him fear some heavy misfortune.
"Richart! Jacob!" he gasped.
"No! no!" said the burgomaster; "it is nearer home, and nobody is deador dying, old friend."
"God bless you, burgomaster! Ah! something is gone off my breast thatwas like to choke me. Now, what is the matter?"
Ghysbrecht then told him all that he told the women, and showed thepicture in evidence.
"Is that all?" said Eli, profoundly relieved. "What are ye roaring andbellowing for? It is vexing, it is angering, but it is not like deathnor even sickness. Boys will be boys. He will outgrow that disease: 'tisbut skin deep."
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 hadnot been spoken of between them, his brow darkened.
"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'ddo what old John Koestein did t'other day."
"And what is that, in Heaven's name?" asked the mother, suddenlyremoving her apron.
It was the burgomaster who replied:
"He made me shut young Albert Koestein up in the prison of theStadthouse till he knocked under: it was not long. Forty-eight hours,all alone, on bread and water, cooled his hot stomach. 'Tell my father Iam his humble servant,' says he, 'and let me into the sun once more--thesun is worth all the wenches in the world.'"
"Oh the cruelty of men!" sighed Catherine.
"As to that, the burgomaster has no choice: it is the law. And if afather says, 'Burgomaster, lock up my son,' he must do it. A fine thingit would be if a father might not lock up his own son."
"Well, well! it won't come to that with me and my son. He neverdisobeyed me in his life: he never shall. Where is he? It is pastsupper-time. Where is he, Kate?"
"Alas, I know not, father."
"I know," said Ghysbrecht; "he is at Sevenbergen. My servant met him onthe road."
* * * * *
Supper passed in gloomy silence. Evening descended--no Gerard: eighto'clock came--no Gerard. Then the father sent all to bed exceptCatherine.
"You and I will walk abroad, wife, and talk over this new care."
"Abroad, my man, at this time? Whither?"
"Why on the road to Sevenbergen."
"Oh no, no hasty words, father. Poor Gerard! he never vexed you before."
"Fear me not. But it must end; and I am not one that trusts to-morrowwith to-day's work."
The old pair walked hand in hand; for strange as it may appear to someof my readers, the use of the elbow to couples walking was notdiscovered in Europe till centuries after this. They sauntered on a longtime in silence. The night was clear and balmy. Such nights, calm andsilent, recall the past from the dead.
"It is a many years since we walked so late, my man," said Catherine,softly.
"Ay, sweetheart, more than we shall see again (Is he never coming, Iwonder?")
"Not since our courting days, Eli."
"No. Ay, you were a buxom lass then."
"And you were a comely lad, as ever a girl's eye stole a look at. I dosuppose Gerard is with her now, as you used to be with me. Nature isstrong, and the same in all our generations."
"Nay, I hope he has left her by now, confound her, or we shall be hereall night."
"Eli!"
"Well, Kate?"
"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 thepoor child? One can be firm without being harsh."
"Surely."
"Have you been happy with me, my poor Eli?"
"Why, you know I have. Friends I have known, but none like thee. Bussme, wife!"
"A heart to share joy and grief with is a great comfort to man or woman.Isn't it, Eli?"
"It is so, my lass."
'_It dot
h joy double, And halveth trouble,_'
runs the byword. And so I have found it, sweetheart. Ah! here comes theyoung fool."
Catherine trembled and held her husband's hand tight. The moon wasbright, but they were in the shadow of some trees, and their son did notsee them. He came singing in the moonlight, and his face shining.
The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages Page 8
