CHAPTER XV
THE HALT AT BENNEBROCK
For a long time she had been half-awake, ever since the vehicle hadstopped, which must have been ages and ages ago. She had lain in a kindof torpor, various sounds coming to her ear as through the veil ofdreams: there was Maria snoring contentedly close by, and the horseschamping their bits and pawing the hard-frozen ground, also there wasthe murmur of voices, subdued and muffled--but she could not distinguishwords.
Not for a long time at any rate--an interminably long time!
Her body and limbs felt quite numb, pleasantly warm under the rugs andcloaks, only her face rejoiced in the cold blast that played around itand kept her forehead and eyes cool.
Once it seemed to her as if out of the darkness more than one pair ofeyes were looking down on her, and she had the sense as of a warm rapidbreath that mingled with the pure frosty air. After which some onemurmured:
"She is still unconscious."
"I think not," was the whispered reply.
She lay quite still, in case those eyes came to look on her again. Themurmuring voices sounded quite close to the sleigh now, and soon shefound that by holding her breath, and straining her every listeningfaculty she could detach the words that struck her ear from all theother sounds around her.
Two men, she thought, were speaking, but their voices were never onceraised above a whisper.
"You are satisfied?" she heard one of these saying quite distinctly.
"Entirely!" was the response.
"The letter to Ben Isaje?"
"I am not like to lose it."
"Hush! I heard a sound from under the hood."
"'Tis only the old woman snoring."
"I wish you could have found a more comfortable sledge."
"There was none to be had in Haarlem to-day. But we'll easily get one inLeyden."
In Leyden! Gilda's numbed body quivered with horror. She was being takento Leyden and further on still by sleigh! Her thoughts at present werestill chaotic but gradually she was sorting them out, one or twobecoming more clear, more insistent than the rest.
"I would like the jongejuffrouw to have something to eat and drink,"came once more in whispers from out the darkness. "I fear that she willbe faint!"
"No! no!" came the prompt, peremptory reply, "it would be madness to lether realize so soon where she is. She knows this place well."
A halt on the way to Leyden! and thence a further journey by sledge!Gilda's thoughts were distinctly less chaotic already. She was beginningto marshal them up in her mind, together with her recollections of theevents of the past twenty-four hours. The darkness around her, which wasintense, and the numbness of her body all helped her to concentrate herfaculties on these recollections first and on the obvious conclusionsbased upon her position at the present moment.
She was being silenced effectually because of the knowledge which shehad gained in the cathedral last night. The Lord of Stoutenburg,frightened for his plans, was causing her to be put out of his way.Never for a moment did she suspect her own brother in this. It was thatconscienceless, ambitious, treacherous Stoutenburg! at most her brotherwas blindly acquiescent in this infamy.
Gilda was not afraid. Not even when this conviction became fully maturedin her mind. She was not afraid for herself, although for one briefmoment the thought did cross her mind that mayhap she had only beentaken out of Haarlem in order that her death might be more secretlyencompassed.
But she was cast in a firmer mould than most women of her rank andwealth would be. She came of a race that had faced misery, death andtorture for over a century for the sake of its own independence of lifeand of faith, and was ready to continue the struggle for another hundredyears if need be for the same ideals, and making the same sacrifices inorder to attain them. Gilda Beresteyn gave but little thought to her ownsafety. Life to her, if Stoutenburg's dastardly conspiracy against theStadtholder was successful and involved her own brother, would be oflittle value to her. Nicolaes' act of treachery would break her father'sheart; what matter if she herself lived to witness all that misery ornot.
No! it was her helplessness at this moment that caused her the mostexcruciating soul-agony. She had been trapped and was being cast asidelike a noxious beast, that is in the way of men. Like a child that isunruly and has listened at the keyhole of the door, she was beingpunished and rendered harmless.
Indeed she had no fear for her safety; the few words which she hadheard, the presence of Maria, all tended to point out that there wouldbe no direct attempt against her life. It was only of that awful crimethat she thought, that crime which she had so fondly hoped that shemight yet frustrate: it was of the Stadtholder's safety that she thoughtand of her brother's sin.
She also thought of her poor father who, ignorant of the events whichhad brought about this infamous abduction, would be near killing himselfwith sorrow at the mysterious disappearance of his only daughter. Pietand Jakob would tell how they had been set on in the dark--footpadswould be suspected, the countryside where they usually have their hauntswould be scoured for them, but the high road leading to Leyden wouldnever mayhap be watched, and certainly a sleigh under escort would neverdraw the attention of the guardians of the peace.
While these thoughts whirled wildly in her brain it seemed thatpreparations had been and were being made for departure. She heard somewhispered words again:
"Where will you put up at Leyden?"
"At the 'White Goat.' I know the landlord well."
"Will he be awake at so late an hour?"
"I will ride ahead and rouse his household. They shall be prepared forour coming."
"But...."
"You seem to forget, sir," came in somewhat louder tones, "that all thearrangements for this journey were to be left entirely to mydiscretion."
For the moment Gilda could catch no further words distinctly: whether aquarrel had ensued or not she could not conjecture, but obviously thetwo speakers had gone some little distance away from the sledge. Allthat she could hear was--after a brief while of silence--a quaintmuffled laugh which though it scarce was distinguishable from the murmurof the wind, so soft was it, nevertheless betrayed to her keenlysensitive ear an undercurrent of good-humoured irony.
Again there seemed something familiar to her in the sound.
After this there was renewed tramping of heavy feet on the snow-coveredground, the clang of bits and chains, the creaking of trace, thesubdued call of encouragement to horses:
"Forward!" came a cheery voice from the rear.
Once more they were on the move; on the way to Leyden--distant sixleagues from her home. Gilda could have cried out now in her misery. Shepictured her father--broken-hearted all through the night, sendingmessengers hither and thither to the various gates of the city, unableno doubt to get satisfactory information at this late hour: she picturedNicolaes feigning ignorance of the whole thing, making pretence ofanxiety and grief. Torturing thoughts kept her awake, though her bodywas racked with fatigue. The night was bitterly cold, and the wind, nowthat they had reached open country, cut at times across her face like aknife.
The sledge glided along with great swiftness now, over the smooth, thickcarpet of snow that covered the long, straight road. Gilda knew that thesea was not far off: but she also knew that every moment now she wasbeing dragged further and further away from the chance of averting fromher father and from her house the black catastrophe of disgrace whichthreatened them.