The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages
Page 91
CHAPTER LXXXIX
WHILE Jorian was putting on his doublet and jerkin to go to Peter'stomb, his tongue was not idle. "They used to call him a magician outSevenbergen way. And they do say he gave 'em a touch of his trade atparting; told 'em he saw Margaret's lad a coming down Rhine in braveclothes and store o' money, but his face scarred by foreign glaive, andnot altogether so many arms and legs as a went away wi'. But, dearheart, nought came on't. Margaret is still wearying for her lad; andPeter, he lies as quiet as his neighbours, not but what she hath put astone slab over him, to keep him where he is: as you shall see."
He put both hands on the edge of the grave, and was about to raisehimself out of it, but the friar laid a trembling hand on his shoulder,and said in a strange whisper--
"How long since died Peter Brandt?"
"About two months. Why?"
"And his daughter buried him, say you?"
"Nay, I buried him, but she paid the fee and reared the stone. Why?"
"Then--but he had but one daughter; Margaret?"
"No more; leastways, that he owned to."
"Then you think Margaret is--is alive?"
"Think? Why I should be dead else. Riddle me that."
"Alas, how can I? You love her!"
"No more than reason, being a married man and father of four more sturdyknaves like myself. Nay, the answer is, she saved my life scarce sixweeks agone. Now had she been dead she couldn't ha' kept me alive. Blessyour heart I couldn't keep a thing on my stomach; nor doctors couldn'tmake 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, thisMargaret, which she died three years ago, by your way on't, opens thewindows, makes 'em shift me where I lay, and cures me in the twinklingof a bed post; but wi' what? there pinches the shoe; with the scurviestherb, 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 nowwhene'er I pass my bunch I doff bonnet, and, says I, 'My service t'ye.'Why, how now, father, you look wondrous pale, and now you are red; andnow you are white? Why, what is the matter? What in Heaven's name is thematter?"
"The surprise--the joy--the wonder--the fear," gasped Clement.
"Why what is it to thee? Art thou of kin to Margaret Brandt?"
"Nay; but I knew one that loved her well, so well her death nigh killedhim, body and soul. And yet thou sayest she lives. And I believe thee."
Jorian stared, and after a considerable silence, said very gravely,"Father, you have asked me many questions, and I have answered themtruly; now for our Lady's sake answer me but two. Did you in very soothknow one who loved this poor lass? Where?"
Clement was on the point of revealing himself, but he rememberedJerome's letter, and shrank from being called by the name he had bornein the world.
"I knew him in Italy," said he.
"If you knew him you can tell me his name," said Jorian, cautiously.
"His name was Gerard Eliassoen."
"Oh, but this is strange. Stay, what made thee say Margaret Brandt wasdead?"
"I was with Gerard when a letter came from Margaret Van Eyck. The lettertold him she he loved was dead and buried. Let me sit down, for mystrength fails me. Foul play! Foul play!"
"Father," said Jorian, "I thank Heaven for sending thee to me. Ay, sitye down; ye do look like a ghost; ye fast overmuch to be strong. My mindmisgives 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 topieces as I do this mould"; and he clenched his teeth and raised hislong spade above his head, and brought it furiously down upon the heapseveral 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 thetrap they have laid for him. Mine is but a dull head, but whiles theslow 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."
Jorian then, after some of those useless preliminaries men of his classalways deal in, came to the point of his story. He had been employed bythe burgomaster of Tergou to repair the floor of an upper room in hishouse, and, when it was almost done, coming suddenly to fetch away histools, curiosity had been excited by some loud words below, and he hadlain down on his stomach, and heard the burgomaster talking about aletter, which Cornelis and Sybrandt were minded to convey into the placeof one that a certain Hans Memling was taking to Gerard: "and it seemstheir will was good, but their stomach was small; so to give themcourage the old man showed them a drawer full of silver, and if they didthe trick they should each put a hand in, and have all the silver theycould hold in't. Well, father," continued Jorian, "I thought not muchon't at the time, except for the bargain itself, _that_ kept me awakemostly all night. Think on't! Next morning at peep of day who should Isee but my masters Cornelis and Sybrandt come out of their house eachwith 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 theymake for the burgomaster's house? I to my hiding-place."
At this part of Jorian's revelation the monk's nostril dilated, and hisrestless eye showed the suspense he was in.
"Well, father," continued Jorian, "the burgomaster brought them intothat 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 sawthe drawer opened, and those two knaves put in each a hand and draw itout 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 somethingsticky, I think 'twas glue, and he made shift to carry one or two piecesaway a sticking to the back of his hand, he! he! he! 'Tis a sin tolaugh. So you see luck was on the wrong side as usual; they had done thetrick; but how they did it, that, methinks, will never be known tilldoomsday. 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' yonbargain. There, father, that is off my mind; often I longed to tell itsome one, but I durst not to the women; or Margaret would not have had afriend left in the world; for those two black-hearted villains are thefavourites. 'Tis always so. Have not the old folk just taken a brave newshop for them in this very town, in the Hoog Straet? There may you seetheir sign, a gilt sheep and a lambkin; a brace of wolves sucking theirdam would be nigher the mark. And there the whole family feast thisday; oh, 'tis a fine world. What, not a word, holy father; you sit therelike stone, and have not even a curse to bestow on them, thestony-hearted miscreants. What, was it not enough the poor lad was allalone in a strange land; must his own flesh and blood go and lie awaythe one blessing his enemies had left him? And then think of her piningand pining all these years, and sitting at the window looking adown thestreet for Gerard! and so constant, so tender, and true: my wife saysshe is sure no woman ever loved a man truer, than she loves the ladthose villains have parted from her: and the day never passes but sheweeps salt tears for him. And, when I think, that, but for those twogreedy lying knaves, yon winsome lad, whose life I saved, might be byher side this day the happiest he in Holland; and the sweet lass, thatsaved my life, might be sitting with her cheek upon her sweetheart'sshoulder, the happiest she in Holland in place of the saddest; oh, Ithirst for their blood, the nasty, sneaking, lying, cogging, cowardly,heartless, bowelless--how now?!"
The monk started wildly up, livid with fury and despair, and rushedheadlong from the place with both hands clenched and raised on high. Soterrible was this inarticulate burst of fury, that Jorian's puny iredied out at sight of it, and he stood looking dismayed after the humantempest he had launched.
While thus absorbed he felt his arm grasped by a small, tremulous, hand.
It was Margaret Brandt.
He started: her coming there just then seemed so strange.
She had waited long on Peter's tombstone, but the friar did not come. Soshe went into the church to see if he was there still. She could notfind him.
Presently, going up the south aisle, the gigantic shado
w of a friar camerapidly along the floor and part of a pillar, and seemed to pass throughher. She was near screaming: but in a moment remembered Jorian's shadowhad come in so from the churchyard: and tried to clamber out the nearestway. She did so, but with some difficulty; and by that time Clement wasjust disappearing down the street: yet, so expressive at times is thebody as well as the face, she could see he was greatly agitated. Jorianand she looked at one another, and at the wild figure of the distantfriar.
"Well?" said she to Jorian, trembling.
"Well," said he, "you startled me. How come you here of all people?"
"Is this a time for idle chat? What said he to you? He has been speakingto you; deny it not."
"Girl, as I stand here, he asked me, where-about you were buried in thischurchyard."
"Ah?"
"I told him, nowhere, thank Heaven: you were alive and saving other folkfrom the churchyard."
"Well?"
"Well, the long and the short is, he knew thy Gerard in Italy: and aletter 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 VanEyck. That was _his_ way of it. But I up and told him nay; 'twas neitherdemoiselle nor dame that penned yon lie, but Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, andthose foul knaves, Cornelis and Sybrandt; these changed the true letterfor 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!"
"Oh, cruel! cruel! But he lives. The fear of fears is gone. Thank God!"
"Ay, lass; and as for thine enemies, I have given them a dig. For yonfriar 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 hewill give them their lesson. If ever a man was mad with rage, it's 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 adid."
"Oh, Jorian, what have you done?" cried Margaret. "Quick! quick! help methither, for the power is gone all out of my body. You know him not as Ido. Oh, if you had seen the blow he gave Ghysbrecht; and heard thefrightful crash! Come, save him from worse mischief. The water is deepenow; but not bloody yet; come!"
Her accents were so full of agony that Jorian sprang out of the graveand came with her, huddling on his jerkin as he went.
But, as they hurried along, he asked her what on earth she meant? "Italk of this friar, and you answer me of Gerard."
"Man, see you not, _this_ is Gerard!"
"This, Gerard? what mean ye?"
"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, mypoor child! Quicker, Jorian, quicker!"
"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 mesee the end of this."
"The end? How many of us will live to see that?"
They hurried along in breathless silence, till they reached Hoog Straet.
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 toweep and pray, poor soul. Oh, cursed, cursed villains!"
"Did you tell him where those villains bide?"
"Ay, that I did."
"Then quicker, oh Jorian, quicker. I see the house. Thank God and allthe 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 amother to me."
The shop was a corner house, with two doors: one in the main street, forcustomers, and a house-door round the corner.
Margaret and Jorian were now within twenty yards of the shop, when theyheard a roar inside, like as of some wild animal, and the friar burstout, white and raging, and went tearing down the street.
Margaret screamed, and sank fainting on Jorian's arm.
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.
"Help me in, good Jorian," moaned Margaret, turning suddenly calm. "Letme know the worst; and die."
He supported her trembling limbs into the house.
It seemed unnaturally still; not a sound.
Jorian's own heart beat fast.
A door was before him, unlatched. He pushed it softly with his lefthand, and Margaret and he stood on the threshold.
What they saw there you shall soon know.