CHAPTER XVII
AN UNDERSTANDING
At one hour after midnight the summons came.
Maria, majestic and unbending, sailed into the tap-room where Pythagorasand Socrates were already stretched out full-length upon a couple ofbenches fast asleep and Diogenes still struggling to keep awake.
"The noble Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn desires your presence," she saidaddressing the latter with lofty dignity.
At once he rose to his feet, and followed Maria up the stairs and intothe lady's room. From this room an inner door gave on another smalleralcove-like chamber, wherein a bed had been prepared for Maria.
Gilda somewhat curtly ordered her to retire.
"I will call you, Maria," she said, "when I have need of you."
Diogenes with elaborate courtesy threw the inner door open, and stoodbeside it plumed hat in hand while the mevrouw sailed past him, witharms folded across her ample bosom, and one of those dignified glancesin her round eyes that should have annihilated this impious malapert,whose face--despite its airs of deference, was wreathed in an obviouslyironical smile.
It was only when the heavy oaken door had fallen to behind her duennathat Gilda with an imperious little gesture called Diogenes before her.
He advanced hat in hand as was his wont, his magnificent figure veryerect, his head with its wealth of untamed curls slightly bent. But helooked on her boldly with those laughter-filled, twinkling eyes of hisand since he was young and neither ascetic nor yet a misanthrope, we maytake it that he had some considerable pleasure in the contemplation ofthe dainty picture which she presented against the background of dullgold velvet: her small head propped against the cushions, and featherycurls escaping from under her coif and casting pearly, transparentshadows upon the ivory whiteness of her brow. Her two hands were restingeach on an arm of the chair, and looked more delicate than ever now inthe soft light of the tallow candles that burned feebly in the pewtercandelabra upon the table.
Diogenes for the moment envied his friend Frans Hals for the power whichthe painter of pictures has of placing so dainty an image on record forall time. His look of bold admiration, however, caused Gilda's glance toharden, and she drew herself up in her chair in an attitude moreindicative of her rank and station and of her consciousness of hisinferiority.
But not with a single look or smile did she betray whether she hadrecognized him or not.
"Your name?" she asked curtly.
His smile broadened--self-deprecatingly this time.
"They call me Diogenes," he replied.
"A strange name," she commented, "but 'tis of no consequence."
"Of none whatever," he rejoined, "I had not ventured to pronounce it,only that you deigned to ask."
Again she frowned: the tone of gentle mockery had struck unpleasantly onher ear and she did not like that look of self-satisfied independencewhich sat on him as if to the manner born, when he was only an abjectmenial, paid to do dirty work for his betters.
"I have sent for you, sir," she resumed after a slight pause, "because Iwished to demand of you an explanation of your infamous conduct. Rogueryand vagabondage are severely punished by our laws, and you have broughtyour neck uncommonly near the gallows by your act of highway robbery. Doyou hear me?" she asked more peremptorily, seeing that he made noattempt at a reply.
"I hear you, mejuffrouw."
"And what is your explanation?"
"That is my trouble, mejuffrouw. I have none to offer."
"Do you refuse then to tell me what your purpose is in thus defying thelaws of the land and risking the gallows by laying hands upon me andupon my waiting woman in the open streets, and by taking me away bybrute force from my home?"
"My purpose, mejuffrouw, is to convey you safely as far as Rotterdam,where I will hand you over into the worthy keeping of a gentleman whowill relieve me of further responsibility with regard to your preciousperson."
"In Rotterdam?" she exclaimed, "what should I do in Rotterdam?"
"Nothing, I imagine," replied Diogenes dryly, "for you would not remainthere longer than is necessary. I am the bearer of written orders tothat same gentleman in Rotterdam that he shall himself conduct you undersuitable escort--of which I no doubt will still form an integralpart--to his private residence, which I am told is situate outside thecity and on the road to Delft."
"A likely story indeed!" she rejoined vehemently, "I'll not believe it!Common theft and robbery are your purpose, nothing less, else you hadnot stolen my purse from me nor the jewels which I wore."
"I had to take your purse and your jewels from you, mejuffrouw," he saidwith perfect equanimity, "else you might have used them for the purposeof slipping through my fingers. Wenches at wayside inns are easilyamenable to bribes, so are the male servants at city hostelries. Butyour purse and the trinkets which you wore are safely stowed away in mywallet. I shall have the honour of returning them to you when we arrivein Rotterdam."
"Of returning them to me," she said with a contemptuous laugh, "doknaves like you ever return stolen property?"
"Seldom, I admit," he replied still with unruffled good-humour."Nevertheless an exception hath often proved a rule. Your purse andtrinkets are here," he added.
And from his wallet he took out a small leather purse and some loosejewellery which he showed to her.
"And," he added ere he once more replaced them in his wallet, "I willguard them most carefully until I can return them to you in Rotterdam,after which time 'twill be some one else's business to see that you donot slip through his fingers."
"And you expect me to believe such a senseless tale," she rejoinedcontemptuously.
"There are many things in this world and the next, mejuffrouw," he saidlightly, "that are true though some of us believe them not."
"Nay! but this I do believe on the evidence of mine own eyes--that youstole my money and my jewels and have no intention of returning them tome."
"Your opinion of me, mejuffrouw, is already so low that it matterslittle surely if you think me a common thief as well."
"My opinion of you, sir, is based upon your actions."
"And these I own stand in formidable array against me."
She bit her lip in vexation and her slender fingers began to beat atattoo on the arm of her chair. This man's placidity and inveterategood-humour were getting on her nerves. It is hard when one means towound, to find the surest arrows falling wide of the mark. But now shewaited for a moment or two lest her irritation betrayed itself in thequiver of her voice; and it was only when she felt quite sure that itwould sound as trenchant and hard as she intended that it should, thatshe said abruptly:
"Who is paying you, sir, for this infamy?"
"One apparently who can afford the luxury," he replied airily.
"You will not tell me?"
"Do you think, mejuffrouw, that I could?"
"I may guess."
"It should not be difficult," he assented.
"And you, sir," she continued more vehemently, "are one of the manytools which the Lord of Stoutenburg doth use to gain his own politicalends."
"The Lord of Stoutenburg?"
It was impossible for Gilda Beresteyn to gauge exactly whether theastonishment expressed in that young villain's exclamation was real orfeigned. Certainly his mobile face was a picture of puzzlement, but thismay have been caused only by his wondering how she could so easily haveguessed the name of his employer. For as to this she was never for amoment in doubt. It was easy enough for her to piece together the seriesof events which had followed her parting from her brother at thecathedral door. Stoutenburg, burning with anxiety and glowing with hisardent desire for vengeance against the Stadtholder, had feared thatshe--Gilda--would betray the secret which she held, and he had paid thisknave to take her out of the way. Stoutenburg and his gang! it could beno one else! she dared not think that her own brother would have a sharein so dastardly an outrage. It was Stoutenburg of course! and thissmiling knave knew it well! aye! even though he murmured again and th
istime to the accompaniment of smothered oaths:
"Stoutenburg? Bedonderd!"
"Aye!" she said loftily, "you see that I am not deceived! 'tis the Lordof Stoutenburg who gave you money to play this trick on me. He paidyou! paid you, I say, and you, a man who should be fighting for yourcountry, were over ready to make war upon a woman. Shame on you! shame Isay! 'tis a deed that should cause you to blush, if indeed you have aspark of honesty in you, which of a truth I do gravely doubt."
She had worked herself up into an outburst of indignation and flunginsult upon insult on him in the vague hope indeed of waking someslumbering remnant of shame in his heart, and mayhap ruffling thatimperturbable air of contentment of his, and that impudent look ofswagger most unbecoming in a menial.
But by naming Stoutenburg, she had certainly brought to light manythings which Diogenes had only vaguely suspected. His mind--keen andshrewd despite his follies--recalled his interview with NicolaesBeresteyn in the studio of Frans Hals; all the details of that interviewseemed suddenly to have gained significance as well as lucidity. Thelofty talk anent the future of Holland and the welfare of the Faith waseasily understandable in this new light which the name of Stoutenburghad cast upon it. Stoutenburg and the welfare of Holland! a secret thepossession of which meant death to six selfless patriots or theforfeiture mayhap of her good name and her honour to this defencelessgirl! Stoutenburg at the bottom of it all! Diogenes could have laughedaloud with triumph so clear now was the whole scheme to him! There wasno one living who did not think that at some time or other Stoutenburgmeant to come back and make yet one more attempt to wipe a blood-stainfrom the annals of his country by one equally foul.
One of Barneveld's sons had already paid for such an attempt with hislife; the other had escaped only in order to intrigue again, to plotagain, and again to fail. And this poor girl had by a fortuitous mishapoverheard the discussion of the guilty secret. Stoutenburg had comeback and meant to kill the Stadtholder: Nicolaes Beresteyn was hisaccomplice and had callously sacrificed his innocent sister to thesuccess of his friend's schemes.
If out of this network of intrigues a sensible philosopher did notsucceed in consolidating his independence with the aid of a substantialfortune, then he was neither so keen nor so daring as his friends and hehimself supposed!
And Gilda wondered what went on in his mind for those twinkling eyes ofhis never betrayed any deeper thought: but she noticed with greatmortification that the insults which she had heaped upon him so freelyhad not shamed him at all, for the good-humoured smile was not effacedfrom his lips, rather did the shapely hand wander up to the moustache inorder to give it--she thought--a more provoking curl.
"I still await your answer," she said haughtily, seeing that hisprolonged silence savoured of impertinence.
"I humbly crave your pardon, mejuffrouw," he said pleasantly, "I wasabsorbed in wonderment."
"You marvelled, sir, how easily I saw behind your schemes, and saw thehand which drove you in harness?"
"Your pardon, mejuffrouw. I was pondering on your own words. You deignedto say just now that I--a man should be fighting for my country."
"And you are worthy, sir, to be called a man."
"Quite so," he said whimsically. "But even if I did lay claim to thetitle, mejuffrouw, how could I fight for my country when my country dothnot happen to be at war just now."
"Your country? What pray might your country be? Not that this concernsme in the least," she added hastily.
"Of course not," he rejoined blandly.
"What is your country, sir?"
"England."
"I do not like the English."
"Nor do I, mejuffrouw. But I was unfortunately not consulted as to mychoice of a fatherland: nor doth it change the fact that King James ofEngland is at peace just now with all the world."
"So you preferred to earn a dishonest living by abducting innocentwomen, to further the intrigues of your paymaster."
"It is a harsh exposition," he said blandly, "of an otherwise obviousfact."
"And you are not ashamed."
"Not more than is necessary for my comfort."
"And cannot I move you, sir," she said with sudden warmth, "cannot anappeal to you from my lips rouse a feeling of manhood within you. Myfather is a rich man," she continued eagerly, "he hath it in his powerto reward those who do him service; he can do so far more effectuallythan the Lord of Stoutenburg. Sir! I would not think of making an appealto your heart! no doubt long ago you have taught it to remain cold tothe prayers of a woman in distress: but surely you will listen to thecall of your own self-interest. My father must be nigh heart-broken bynow. The hours have sped away and he knows not where to find me."
"No! I have taken very good care of that, mejuffrouw. We are at Leydennow, but we left Haarlem through the Groningen gate. We travelled Northfirst, then East, then only South.... Mynheer Beresteyn would require adivining rod wherewith to find you now."
It seemed unnecessary cruelty to tell her that, when already despair hadseized on her heart, but she would not let this abominable rogue see howdeeply she was hurt. She feigned not to have noticed the purport of hiswords and continued with the same insistent eagerness:
"Torn with anxiety, sir, he will be ready with a rich reward for one whowould bring his only daughter safely home to him. I know not what theLord of Stoutenburg hath promised you for doing his abominable work forhim, but this I do assure you that my father will double and treblewhatever sum you choose to name. Take me back to him, sir, now, thisnight, and to-morrow morning you could count yourself one of the richmen of Haarlem."
But Diogenes with half-closed eyes and gentle smile slowly shook hishead.
"Were I to present myself before Mynheer Beresteyn to-night, he wouldsummon the town guard and I should count myself as good as hangedto-morrow."
"Do you measure other men's treachery then by your own?"
"I measure other men's wrath by mine, mejuffrouw--and if a rogue hadstolen my daughter, I should not rest until I had seen him hanged."
"I pledge you my word----" she began hotly.
"And I mine, mejuffrouw," he broke in a little more firmly than he hadspoken hitherto, "that I will place you safely and I pray God in goodhealth, into the care of a certain gentleman in Rotterdam. To this is myword of honour pledged and even such a mean vagabond as I is bound by agiven word."
To this she made no reply. Perhaps she felt that in his last words therelurked a determination which it were useless to combat. Her pride toowas up in arms. How could she plead further to this rascal who met themost earnest appeal with a pert jest? who mocked at her distress, andwas impervious alike to prayers and to insults?
"I see," she said coldly, "that I do but waste my time in calling onyour honour to forego this infamous trickery. Where there is nochivalry, there can be neither honour nor pity. I am in your hands,helpless because I am a woman. If it is the will of God that I should soremain, I cannot combat brute force with my feeble strength. No doubtHe knows best! and also I believe doth oft give the devil power totriumph in the sight of men. After this night, sir, I will no longerdefame my lips by speaking to you. If you have a spark of compassionleft in your heart for one who hath never wronged you, I but ask you torelieve me of your presence as much as you can during the weary hours ofthis miserable journey."
"Have I your leave to go at once?" he said with unalterable cheerfulnessand made haste to reach the door.
"Only one moment more must I detain you," she rejoined haughtily. "Iwish you to understand that from this hour forth until such time as itpleaseth God to free me from this humiliating position, I will followyour commands to the best of my ability; not because I recognize yourright to dictate them but because I am helpless to oppose you. If I andmy waiting woman obey your orders meekly, if we rise when so ordered,are ready to start on the way whenever so compelled, get in or out ofthe vehicle at the first word from you, can we at least rest assuredthat we shall be spared further outrage?"
"Do you me
an, mejuffrouw, that I must no longer attempt to lift you outof a coach or to carry you up to your chamber, even if as to-night youare faint and but half-conscious?" he asked with whimsical earnestness.
"I desire, sir, that you and those who help you in this shameful work,do in future spare me and my woman the insult of laying hands upon ourpersons."
He gave a long, low whistle.
"Dondersteen," he exclaimed flippantly, "I had no thought that so muchhatred and malice could lurk in the frail body of a woman ... 'tistrue," he added with a shrug of the shoulders, "that a rogue such as Imust of necessity know very little of the workings of a noble lady'smind."
"Had you known aught of mine, sir," she retorted coldly, "you wouldhave understood that it is neither hatred nor malice which I feel foryou and for those who are paying you to do this infamy ... what I feelis only contempt."
"Is that all?" he queried blandly. "Ah, well, mejuffrouw, then am I allthe more indebted to you for the great honour which you have done methis hour past."
"Honour? I do not understand. It was not in my mind to do you honour."
"I am sure not. You did it quite unconsciously and the honour wasenhanced thereby. You honoured me, mejuffrouw," he said while a tone ofearnestness crept into his merry voice, "by trusting me--the commonthief, the cut-throat, the hired brigand, alone in your presence for awhole hour, while the entire household here was abed and your duennasnoring contentedly in a room with locked door close by. During thathour your tongue did not spare my temper for one moment. For thisrecognition of manly forbearance and chivalry--even though you choose todeny their existence--do I humbly thank you. Despite--or perhaps becauseof your harsh estimate of me--you made me feel to-night almost agentleman."
With his habitual elegance of gesture he swept her a deep bow, thenwithout another word or look, and with firm, ringing steps he walkedquickly out of the room.