Read The Laughing Cavalier: The Story of the Ancestor of the Scarlet Pimpernel Page 20

  CHAPTER XVIII

  THE START

  Once the door safely closed behind him, he heaved a deep sigh as if ofintense relief and he passed his hand quickly across his brow.

  "By St. Bavon," he murmured, "my friend Diogenes, thou hast had to faceunpleasantness before now--those arquebusiers at Magdeburg weredifficult to withstand, those murderous blackguards in the forests ofPrague nearly had thy skin, but verdommt be thou, if thou hast had tohold thy temper in bounds like this before. Dondersteen! how I couldhave crushed that sharp-tongued young vixen till she cried formercy ... or silenced those venomous lips with a kiss!... I was soretempted indeed to give her real cause for calling me a knave...."

  In the tap-room downstairs he found Pythagoras and Socrates curled up onthe floor in front of the hearth. They were fast asleep, and Diogenesdid not attempt to wake them. He had given them their orders for thenext day earlier in the evening and with the promise of 500 goldenguilders to be won by implicit obedience the two worthies were not liketo disobey.

  He himself had his promise to his friend Hals to redeem ... the flightalong the frozen waterways back to Haarlem, a few hours spent in thestudio in the Peuselaarsteeg, then the return flight to rejoin hiscompeers and the jongejuffrouw at the little hamlet of Houdekerk off themain road; thither he had ordered them to proceed in the early morningthere to lie perdu until his return. Houdekerk lay to the east ofLeyden and so well off the beaten track that the little party would besafely hidden there during the day;--he intended to be with them againwell before midnight of the next day. For the nonce he collected a fewnecessary provisions which he had ordered to be ready for him--a halfbottle of wine, some meat and bread, then he made his way out of thelittle hostelry and across the courtyard to the stables where the horseshad been put up. The night was singularly clear: the waning moon aftershe had emerged from a bank of low-lying clouds, lit up the surroundinglandscape with a radiance that was intensely blue.

  Groping his way about in the stables Diogenes found his saddle which hehimself had lifted off his horse, and from out the holster he drew apair of skates. With these hanging by their straps upon his arm, he leftthe building behind him and turned to walk in the direction of theriver.

  The little city lay quite peaceful and still under the weird brilliancyof the moon which threw many-hued reflections on the snow-coveredsurfaces of roofs and tall gables. It was piercingly cold, the silverribbon of the Rhyn wound its graceful course westward to the North Seaand from beyond its opposite bank a biting wind swept across the dykesand over the flat country around, chasing myriads of crisp snowflakesfrom their rest and driving them in wanton frolic round and round intolittle whirlpools of mist that glistened like the facets of diamonds.

  Diogenes had walked briskly along; the skates upon his arm clicked atevery one of his movements with a pleasing metallic sound. He chose aconvenient spot on the river bank whereon to squat on the ground, andfastened on his skates.

  After which he rose and for a moment stood looking straight outnorthwards before him. But a few leagues--half a dozen at most--laybetween him and Haarlem. The Rhyn as well as the innumerable smallpolders and lakes had left--after the autumn floods--their usual trailof narrow waterways behind them which, frozen over now, joining,intersecting and rejoining again formed a perfect, uninterrupted roadfrom hence to the northern cities. It had been along these frozen waysthat the daring and patriotic citizens of Leyden had half a century agokept up communication with the outer world during the memorable siegewhich had lasted throughout the winter, and it was by their help thatthey were able to defy the mighty investing Spanish army by gettingprovisions into the beleaguered city.

  A young adventurer stood here now calmly measuring in his mind thedistance which he would have to traverse in the teeth of a piercing galeand at dead of night in order to satisfy the ambition of a friend. Itwas not the first time in his hazardous career that he had undertakensuch a journey. He was accustomed to take all risks in life withindifference and good humour, the only thing that mattered was theultimate end: an exciting experience to go through, a goodly competenceto earn, a promise to fulfil.

  Up above, the waning moon seemed to smile upon his enterprise; she layradiant and serene on her star-studded canopy of mysterious etherealindigo. Diogenes looked back on the little hostelry, which lay somelittle distance up the street at right angles to the river bank. Was ithis fancy or one of those many mysterious reflections thrown by themoon? but it certainly seemed to him as if a light still burned in oneof the upper windows.

  The unpleasant interview with the jongejuffrouw had evidently notweighed his spirits down, for to that distant light he now sent a loudand merry farewell.

  Then deliberately facing the bitter blast he struck out boldly along theice and started on his way.