CHAPTER XXVIII.
Days and weeks had passed, July was followed by sultry August, and that,too, was drawing to a close. The Spaniards still surrounded Leyden,and the city now completely resembled a prison. The soldiers and armedcitizens did their duty wearily and sullenly, there was business enoughat the town-hall, but the magistrates' work was sad and disagreeable;for no message of hope came from the Prince or the Estates, andeverything to be considered referred to the increasing distress andthe terrible follower of war, the plague, which had made its entryinto Leyden with the famine. Moreover the number of malcontents weeklyincreased. The friends of the old order of affairs now raised theirvoices more and more loudly, and many a friend of liberty, who sawhis family sickening, joined the Spanish sympathizers and demandedthe surrender of the city. The children went to school and met inthe playgrounds as before, but there was rarely a flash of the merrypertness of former days, and what had become of the boys' red cheeks andthe round arms of the little girls? The poor drew their belts tighter,and the morsel of bread, distributed by the city to each individual, wasno longer enough to quiet hunger and support life.
Junker Georg had long been living in Burgomaster Van der Werff's house.
On the morning of August 29th he returned home from an expedition,carrying a cross-bow in his hand, while a pouch hung over his shoulder.This time he did not go up-stairs, but sought Barbara in the kitchen.The widow received him with a friendly nod; her grey eyes sparkled asbrightly as ever, but her round face had grown narrower and there was asorrowful quiver about the sunken mouth.
"What do you bring to-day?" she asked the Junker. Georg thrust his handinto his game-bag and answered, smiling: "A fat snipe and four larks;you know."
"Poor sparrows! But what sort of a creature can this be? Headless,legless, and carefully plucked! Junker, Junker, that's suspicious."
"It will do for the pan, and the name is of no consequence."
"Yet, yet; true, nobody knows on what he fattens, but the Lord didn'tcreate every animal for the human stomach."
"That's just what I said. It's a short-billed snipe, a corvus, a realcorvus."
"Corvus! Nonsense, I'm afraid of the thing--the little feathers underthe wings. Good heavens! surely it isn't a raven?"
"It's a corvus, as I said. Put the bird in vinegar, roast it withseasoning and it will taste like a real snipe. Wild ducks are not to befound every day, as they were a short time ago, and sparrows aregetting as scarce as roses in winter. Every boy is standing about with across-bow, and in the court-yards people are trying to catch them undersieves and with lime-twigs. They are going to be exterminated, but oneor another is still spared. How is the little elf?"
"Don't call her that!" exclaimed the widow. "Give her her Christianname. She looks like this cloth, and since yesterday has refused to takethe milk we daily procure for her at a heavy cost. Heaven knows whatthe end will be. Look at that cabbage-stalk. Half a stiver! and thatmiserable piece of bone! Once I should have thought it too poor for thedogs--and now! The whole household must be satisfied with it. For supperI shall boil ham-rind with wine and add a little porridge to it. Andthis for a giant like Peter! God only knows where he gets his strength;but he looks like his own shadow. Maria doesn't need anything more thana bird, but Adrian, poor fellow, often leaves the table with tears inhis eyes, yet I know he has broken many a bit of bread from his thinslice for Bessie. It is pitiable. Yet the proverb says: 'Stretchyourself towards the ceiling, or your feet will freeze--'Necessity knowsno law,' and 'Reserve to preserve.' Day before yesterday, like the rest,we again gave of the little we still possessed. To-morrow, everythingbeyond what is needed for the next fortnight, must be delivered up, andPeter won't allow us to keep even a bag of flour, but what will comethen--merciful Heaven!--"
The widow sobbed aloud as she uttered the last words and continued,weeping: "Where do you get your strength? At your age this miserablescrap of meat is a mere drop of water on a red-hot stone."
"Herr Van Aken gives me what he can, in addition to my ration. I shallget through; but I witnessed a terrible sight to-day at the tailor's,who mends my clothes."
"Well?"
"Two of his children have starved to death."
"And the weaver's family opposite," added Barbara, weeping. "Such nicepeople! The young wife was confined four days ago, and this morningmother and child expired of weakness, expired, I tell you, like alamp that has consumed its oil and must go out. At the cloth-makerPeterssohn's, the father and all five children have died of the plague.If that isn't pitiful!"
"Stop, stop!" said Georg, shuddering. "I must go to the court-yard todrill."
"What's the use of that! The Spaniards don't attack; they leave thework to the skeleton death. Your fencing gives an appetite, and the poorhollow herrings can scarcely stir their own limbs."
"Wrong, Frau Barbara, wrong," replied the young man. "The exercise andmotion sustains them. Herr von Nordwyk knew what he was doing, when heasked me to drill them in the dead fencing-master's place."
"You're thinking of the ploughshare that doesn't rust. Perhaps you areright; but before you go to work, take a sip of this. Our wine is stillthe best. When people have something to do, at least they don't mutiny,like those poor fellows among the volunteers day before yesterday. ThankGod, they are gone!"
While the widow was filling a glass, Wilhelm's mother came into thekitchen and greeted Barbara and the young nobleman. She carried underher shawl a small package clasped tightly to her bosom. Her breadth wasstill considerable, but the flesh, with which she had moved aboutso briskly a few months ago, now seemed to have become an oppressiveburden.
She took the little bundle in her right hand, saying "I have somethingfor your Bessie. My Wilhelm, good fellow--"
Here she paused and restored her gift to its old place. She had seenthe Junker's plucked present, and continued in an altered tone: "So youalready have a pigeon--so much the better! The city clerk's little girlis beginning to droop too. I'll see you to-morrow, if God wills."
She was about to go, but Georg stopped her, saying: "You are mistaken,my good lady. I shot that bird to-day, I'll confess now, Frau Barbara;my corvus is a wretched crow."
"I thought so," cried the widow. "Such an abomination!"
Yet she thrust her finger into the bird's breast, saying: "But there'smeat on the creature."
"A crow!" cried Wilhelm's mother, clasping her hands. "True, dogs andcats are already hanging on many a spit and have wandered into many apan. There is the pigeon."
Barbara unwrapped the bird as carefully, as if it might crumble underher fingers, gazing tenderly at it as she weighed it carefully in herhand; but the musician's mother said:
"It's the fourth one Wilhelm has killed, and he said it would have beena good flier. He intended it specially for your Bessie. Stuff it nicelywith yellow paste, not too solid and a little sweetened. That is whatchildren like, and it will agree with her, for it is cheerfully given.Put the little thing away. When we have known any creature, we feelsorry to see it dead."
"May God reward you!" cried Barbara, pressing the kind old hand. "Oh!these terrible times!"
"Yet there is still something to be thankful for."
"Of course, for it will be even worse in hell," replied the widow.
"Don't fall into sin," said the aged matron: "You have only one sickperson in the house. Can I see Frau Maria?"
"She is in the workshops, taking the people a little meat from ourstore. Are you too so short of flour? Cows are still to be seen in thepastures, but the grain seems to have been actually swept away; therewasn't a peck in the market. Will you take a sip of wine too? Shall Icall my sister-in-law?"
"I will seek her myself. The usury in the market is no longer to beendured. We can do nothing more there, but she is already bringingpeople to reason."
"The traders in the market?" asked Georg.
"Yes, Herr von Dornburg, yes. One wouldn't believe how much thatdelicate woman can accomplish. Day before yesterday, when we went ab
outto learn how large a stock of provisions every house contains, peopletreated me and the others very rudely, many even turned us out of doors.But she went to the roughest, and the cellars and store-rooms openedbefore her, as the waves of the sea divided before the people of Israel.How she does it, Heaven knows, but the people can't refuse her."
Georg drew a long breath and left the kitchen. In the court-yard hefound several city soldiers, volunteers and militia-men, with whomhe went through exercises in fencing. Van der Werff placed it at hisdisposal for this purpose, and there certainly was no man in Leyden morecapable than the German of supplying worthy Allertssohn's place.
Barbara was not wrong. His pupils looked emaciated and miserable enough,but many of them had learned, in the dead man's school, to wield thesword well, and were heartily devoted to the profession.
In the centre of the court-yard stood a human figure, stuffed with towand covered with leather, which bore on the left breast a bit of redpaper in the shape of a heart. The more unskilful were obliged to thrustat this figure to train the hand and eye; the others stood face to facein pairs and fought under Georg's direction with blunt foils.
The Junker had felt very weak when he entered the kitchen, for thelarger half of his ration of bread had been left at the unfortunatetailor's; but Barbara's wine had revived him and, rousing himself, hestepped briskly forth to meet his fencers. His doublet was quicklyflung on a bench, his belt drawn tighter, and he soon stood in his whiteshirt-sleeves before the soldiers.
As soon as his first word of command was heard, Henrica's window closedwith a bang. Formerly it had often been opened when the fencing drillbegan, and she had not even shrunk from occasionally clapping her handsand calling "bravo." This time had long since passed, it was weeks sinceshe had bestowed a word or glance on the young noble. She had nevermade such advances to any man, would not have striven so hard to win aprince's favor! And he? At first he had been distant, then more and moreassiduously avoided her. Her pride was deeply wounded. Her purpose ofdiverting his attention from Maria had long been forgotten, and moreoversomething--she knew not what had come between her and the young wife.Not a day elapsed in which he did not meet her, and this was a source ofpleasure to Henrica, because she could show him that his presence wasa matter of indifference, nay even unpleasant. Her imprisonment greatlydepressed her, and she longed unutterably for the open country, thefields and the forest. Yet she never expressed a wish to leave the city,for--Georg was in Leyden, and every waking and dreaming thought wasassociated with him. She loved him to-day, loathed him tomorrow, and didboth with all the ardor of her passionate heart. She often thought ofher sister too, and uttered many prayers for her. To win the favor ofHeaven by good works and escape ennui, she helped the Grey Sisters, wholived in a little old convent next to Herr Van der Werff's house, nursethe sick whole they had lovingly received, and even went with SisterGonzaga to the houses of the Catholic citizens, to collect alms for thelittle hospital. But all this was done without joyous self-devotion,sometimes with extravagant zeal, sometimes lazily, and for days not atall. She had become excessively irritable, but after being unbearablyarrogant one day, would seem sorrowful and ill at ease the next, thoughwithout asking the offended person's pardon.
The young girl now stood behind the closed window, watching Georg, whowith a bold spring dashed at the leathern figure and ran the sword inhis right hand through the phantom's red heart.
The soldiers loudly expressed their admiration. Henrica's eye, alsosparkled approvingly, but suddenly they lost their light, and shestepped farther back into the room, for Maria came out of the workshopsin the court-yard and, with her gaze fixed on the ground, walked pastthe fencers.
The young wife had grown paler, but her clear blue eyes had gained amore confident, resolute expression. She had learned to go her own way,and sought and found arduous duties in the service of the city and thepoor. She had remained conqueror in many a severe conflict of the heart,but the struggle was not yet over; she felt this whenever Georg'spath crossed hers. As far as possible she avoided him, for she did notconceal from herself, that the attempt to live with him on the footingof a friend and brother, would mean nothing but the first step on theroad to ruin for him and herself. That he was honestly aiding her by astrong effort at self-control, she gratefully felt, for she stood heartto heart with her husband on the ship of life. She wished no otherguide; nay the thought of going to destruction with Peter had noterror to her. And yet, yet! Georg was like the magnetic mountain, thatattracted her, and which she must avoid to save the vessel from sinking.
To-day she had been asking the different workmen how they fared, andwitnessed scenes of the deepest misery.
The brave men knew that the surrender of the city might put an end totheir distress, but wished to hold out for the sake of liberty and theirreligion, and endured their suffering as an inevitable misfortune.
In the entry of the house Maria met Wilhelm's mother, and promisedher she would consult with Frau Van Hout that very day, concerning theextortion practised by the market-men. Then she went to poor Bessie, whosat, pale and weak, in a little chair. Her prettiest doll had been lyingan hour in the same position on her lap. The child's little hands andwill were too feeble to move the toy. Trautchen brought in a cup of newmilk. The citizens were not yet wholly destitute of this, for a goodlynumber of cows still grazed outside the city walls under the protectionof the cannon, but the child refused to drink and could only be induced,amid tears, to swallow a few drops.
While Maria was affectionately coaxing the little one, Peter enteredthe room. The tall man, the very model of a stately burgher, who paidcareful heed to his outward appearance, now looked careless ofhis person. His brown hair hung over his forehead, his thick,closely-trimmed moustache straggled in thin lines over his cheeks, hisdoublet had grown too large, and his stockings did not fit snugly asusual, but hung in wrinkles on his powerful legs.
Greeting his wife with a careless wave of the hand, he approached thechild and gazed silently at it a long time with tender affection. Bessieturned her pretty little face towards him and tried to welcome him, butthe smile died on her lips, and she again gazed listlessly at her doll,Peter stooped, raised her in his arms, called her by name and pressedhis lips to her pale cheeks. The child gently stroked his beard and thensaid feebly:
"Put me down, dear father, I feel dizzy up here." The burgomaster, withtears in his eyes, put his darling carefully back in her little chair,then left the room and went to his study. Maria followed him and asked"Is there no message yet from the Prince or the estates?"
He silently shrugged his shoulders.
"But they will not, dare not forget us?" cried the young wife eagerly.
"We are perishing and they leave us to die," he answered in a hollowtone.
"No, no, they have pierced the dykes; I know they will help us."
"When it is too late. One thing follows another, misfortune is heapedon misfortune, and on whom do the curses of the starving people fall? Onme, me, me alone."
"You are acting with the Prince's commissioner."
Peter smiled bitterly, saying: "He took to his bed yesterday. Bontiussays it is the plague. I, I alone bear everything."
"We bear it with you," cried Maria. "First poverty, then hunger, as wepromised."
"Better than that. The last grain was baked today. The bread isexhausted."
"We still have oxen and horses."
"We shall come to them day after to-morrow. It was determined: Twopounds with the bones to every four persons. Bread gone, cows gone, milkgone. And what will happen then? Mothers, infants, sick people! And ourBessie!"
The burgomaster pressed his hands on his temples and groaned aloud. ButMaria said: "Courage, Peter, courage. Hold fast to one thing, don't letone thing go--hope."
"Hope, hope," he answered scornfully.
"To hope no longer," cried Maria, "means to despair. To despair means inour case to open the gates, to open the gates means--"
"Who is thinking of o
pening the gates? Who talks of surrender?" hevehemently interrupted. "We will still hold firm, still, still----Thereis the portfolio, take it to the messenger."