CHAPTER XXXVI
BROTHER PHILOSOPHERS
And now for the clang of arms, the movement, the bustle, the excitementof combat! There are swords to polish, pistols to clean, cullivers tosee to! Something is in the air! We have not been brought hither all theway to this God-forsaken and fog-ridden spot in order to stare on atumble-down molens, or watch a solitary prisoner ere he hang.
Jan knows of course, and Jan is eager and alert, febrile in hismovements, there is a glow in his hollow eyes. And Jan always looks likethat when fighting is in the air, when he sniffs the scent of blood andhears the resonance of metal against metal. Jan knows of course. He hasno thought of sleep, all night he wanders up and down the improvisedcamp. No fires allowed and it is pitch dark, but an occasional glimmerfrom a lanthorn lights up compact groups of men lying prone upon thefrozen ground, wrapped in thick coats, or huddled up with knees to chintrying to keep warm.
A few lanthorns are allowed, far into the interior of that weird forestof beams under the molens where slender protection against a bitternorth-westerly wind can alone be found.
Shoulder to shoulder, getting warmth one from the other, we are all tooexcited to sleep. Something is in the air, some fighting to be done, andyet there are only thirty or forty of us at most: but swords andcullivers have been given out, and half the night through my lord andhis friends, served only by Jan, have been carrying heavy loads fromthe molens out toward the Schie and the wooden bridge that spans it.
Silently, always coming away with those heavy loads from the molens, andwalking with them away into the gloom, always returning empty-handed,and served only by Jan. Bah, we are no cullions! 'tis not mightydifficult to guess. And by the saints! why all this mystery? Some of usare paid to fight, what care we how we do it? in the open with musketsor crossbows, or in the dark, with a sudden blow which no man knows fromwhence it comes.
All night we sit and wait, and all night we are under the eye of Jan. Heserves his lord and helps him to carry those heavy boxes from the molens
to some unknown place by the Schie, but he is always there when youleast expect him, watching to see that all is well, that there is nottoo much noise, that no one has been tempted to light a fire, that we donot quarrel too hotly among ourselves.
He keeps a watchful eye too, upon the prisoner: poor beggar! with abroken shoulder and a torn hip, and some other wounds too, about hisbody. A good fighter no doubt! but there were seven against him, andthat was a good idea to swing heavy skates by their straps and to bringhim down with them. His head was too high, else a blow from those sharpblades might have ended his life more kindly than the Lord ofStoutenburg hath planned to do.
A merry devil too! full of quaint jokes and tales of gay adventure! ByGad! a real soldier of fortune! devil-may-care! eat and drink and makemerry for to-morrow we may die. Jan has ordered him to be kept tied to abeam! God-verdomme! but 'tis hard on a wounded man, but he seems tougherthan the beams, and laughter in his throat quickly smothers groans.
Tied to a beam, he is excellent company! Ye gods, how his hands itch togrip his sword. Piet the Red over there! let him feel the metal againsthis palms, 'twill ease his temper for sure! Jan is too severe: but 'tismy lord's rage that was unbridled. Ugh! to strike a prisoner in theface. 'Twas a dirty trick and many saw it.
Heigh-ho, but what matter! To-morrow we fight, to-morrow he hangs! Whatof that? To-morrow most of us mayhap will be lying stark and stiff uponthe frozen ground, staring up at next night's moon, with eyes that nolonger see! A rope round the neck, a hole in the side, a cracked skull!what matters which mode Dame Death will choose for our ultimate end. But'tis a pity about the prisoner! A true fighter if there was one, a stoicand a philosopher. "The Cavalier" we pretty soon call him.
"What ho!" he shouts, "call me the Laughing Cavalier!"
Poor devil! he tries not to show his hurts. He suffers much what withthat damnable wind and those ropes that cut into his tough sinews, buthe smiles at every twinge of pain: smiles and laughs and cracks thebroadest jokes that have e'er made these worm-eaten beams ring withtheir echo.
The Laughing Cavalier in sooth!
There! now we can ease him somewhat. Jan's back is turned: we dare nottouch the ropes, but a cloak put between his back and the beam, andanother just against his head.
Is that not better, old compeer?
Aye! but is it not good to be a villain and a rogue and herd with othervillains and other rogues who are so infinitely more kind and gentlethan all those noble lords?
Diogenes--his head propped against the rude cushion placed there by thehand of some rough Samaritan--has fallen into a fitful doze.
Whispers around him wake him with a start. Ye gods! was there ever soblack a night? The whispers become more eager, more insistent.
"Let us but speak with him. We'll do no harm!"
St. Bavon tell us how those two scarecrows have got here! For they arehere in the flesh, both of them, Diogenes would have spotted his brotherphilosophers through darkness darker than the blackest hell. Pythagorasrolling in fat and Socrates lean and hungry-looking, peering like a hugegaunt bird through the gloom. Someone is holding up a lanthorn andPythagoras' tip-tilted nose shines with a ruddy glow.
"But how did you get here, you old mushroom-face?" asks one of the men.
"We had business with him at Rotterdam," quoth Socrates with one of hischoicest oaths and nodding in the direction of the prisoner. "All day wehave wondered what has become of him."
"Then in the afternoon," breaks in Pythagoras, to the accompaniment of arival set of expletives, "we saw him trussed like a fowl and tied into asledge drawn by a single horse, which started in the wake of a largerone wherein sat a lovely jongejuffrouw."
"Then what did you do?" queries some one.
"Do?" exclaimed the philosophers simultaneously and in a tone of deepdisgust.
"Followed on his trail as best we could," rejoins Socrates simply,"borrowed some skates, ran down the Schie in the wake of the two sledgesand their escort."
"And after that?"
"After that we traced him to this solitary God-forsaken hole, butpresently we saw that this molens was not so deserted as it seemed, sowe hung about until now ... then we ventured nearer ... and here weare."
Here they were of course, but how was it possible to contravene theorders of Jan? What could these scarecrows have to say to the LaughingCavalier?
"Just to ask him if there's anything we can do," murmurs Socratespersuasively. "He's like to hang to-morrow, you said, well! grantsomething then to a dying man."
Grave heads shake in the gloom.
"Our orders are strict...."
"'Tis a matter of life and death it seems...."
"Bah!" quoth Pythagoras more insinuatingly still, "we are two to yourthirty! What have ye all to fear?"
"Here! tie my hands behind my back," suggests Socrates. "I only want tospeak with him. How could we help him to escape?"
"We would not think of such a thing," murmurs Pythagoras piously.
Anxious glances meet one another in consultation. More than one kindlyheart beats beneath these ragged doublets. Bah! the man is to hangto-morrow, why not give pleasure to a dying man?
If indeed it be pleasure to look on such hideous scarecrows a few hoursbefore death.
Jan is not here. He is with my lord, helping with those heavy boxes.
"Five minutes, you old mushroom-face," suggests he who has been left incharge.
And all the others nod approval.
But they will take no risks about the prisoner. Pleasure and fiveminutes' conversation with his friends, yes! but no attempt at escape.So the men make a wide circle sitting out of ear-shot, but shoulder toshoulder the thirty of them who happen to be awake. In the centre of thecircle is the Laughing Cavalier tied to a beam, trussed like a fowlsince he is to hang on the morrow.
Close beside his feet is the lanthorn so that he may have a last look athis friends, and some few paces away his naked sword which Jan took fromhim when t
he men brought him down.
He has listened to the whispered conversation--he knows that hisbrother philosophers are here. May the God of rogues and villains blessthem for their loyalty.
"And now St. Bavon show me the best way to make use of them!"
There is still something to be done, which hath been left undone, a wordhath been given and that pledge must be fulfilled, and the promisedfortune still awaits him who will bring the jongejuffrouw safely to herfather!
"My God, if it were not for that broken shoulder and that tornhip! ... there are many hours yet before the morrow."
"Old compeer!" came in a hoarse whisper close to his ear, "how did youcome to such a pass?"
"They came and took the jongejuffrouw away from Rotterdam," he repliedalso speaking in a whisper. "I had just returned from Delft, where I hadbusiness to transact and I recognized Jan beside the sledge into whichthe jongejuffrouw was stepping even then. He had ten or a dozen men withhim. I felt that they meant mischief--but I had to follow ... I had tofind out whither they were taking her...."
"Verdommt!" growled Socrates under his breath. "Why did you not take usalong?"
"I meant to come back for you, as soon as I knew ... but in thedark ... and from behind, seven of these fellows fell upon me ... theyused their skates like javelins ... mine were still on my feet ... I hadonly Bucephalus.... A blow from one of the heaviest blades cracked myshoulder, another caught me on the hip. There were seven of them," hereiterated with a careless laugh, "it was only a question of time, theywere bound to bring me down in the end."
"But who has done this?" queried Pythagoras with an oath.
"A lucky rogue on whom God hath chosen to smile. But," he added moreseriously and sinking his voice to the lowest possible whisper, "nevermind about the past. Let us think of the future, old compeers."
"We are ready," they replied simultaneously.
"A knife?" he murmured, "can you cut these confounded ropes?"
"They took everything from us," growled Socrates, "ere they let usapproach you."
"Try with your hands to loosen the knots."
"What ho! you brigands, what are you doing there?"
In a moment the circle around broke up. A crowd of angry faces weregathered closely round the philosophers, and more than one pair of roughhands were laid upon their shoulders.
"Play fair, you two!" cried Piet the Red, who was in command, "or we'lltie you both to the nearest beams and await my lord's commands."
"Easy, easy, friend," quoth Diogenes with a pleasant laugh, "my nose wasitching and my compeer held on to my arm while he tried to reach my nosein order to scratch it."
"Then if it itch again," retorted the man with an equally jovial laugh,"call for my services, friend. And now, you two scarecrows! the fiveminutes are over. Jan will be here in a moment."
But they formed up the circle once more, kind and compassionate. Jan wasnot yet here, and the rogues had had a warning: they were not like to beat their tricks again.
"Never mind about me," whispered Diogenes hurriedly as Pythagoras andSocrates, baffled and furious, were giving forth samples of theirchoicest vocabularies. "You see that Chance alone can favour me an shechoose, if not ... 'tis no matter. What you can do for me is far moreimportant than cheating the gallows of my carcase."
"What is it?" they asked simply.
"The jongejuffrouw," he said, "you know where she is?"
"In the hut--close by," replied Socrates, "we saw the sledge draw upthere...."
"But the house is well guarded," murmured Pythagoras.
"Nor would I ask you to run your heads in the same noose wherein minewill swing to-morrow. But keep the hut well in sight. At any hour--anymoment now there may be a call of _sauve qui peut_. Every man forhimself and the greatest luck to the swiftest runner."
"But why?"
"Never mind why. It is sure to happen. Any minute you may hear thecry ... confusion, terror ... a scramble and a rush for the open."
"And our opportunity," came in a hoarse whisper from Socrates. "I thinkthat I begin to understand."
"We lie low for the present and when _sauve qui peut_ is called we comestraight back here and free you ... in the confusion they will haveforgotten you."
"If the confusion occurs in time," quoth Diogenes with his habitualcarelessness, "you may still find me here trussed like a fowl to thisverdommte beam. But I have an idea that the Lord of Stoutenburg willpresently be consumed with impatience to see me hang ... he has justfinished some important work by the bridge on the Schie ... he won't beable to sleep and the devil will be suggesting some mischief for hisidle hands to do. There will be many hours to kill before daylight, oneof them might be well employed in hanging me."
"Then we'll not leave you an instant," asserted Pythagoras firmly.
"What can you do, you two old scarecrows, against the Lord ofStoutenburg who has thirty men here paid to do his bidding?"
"We are not going to lie low and play the part of cowards while you arebeing slaughtered."
"You will do just what I ask, faithful old compeers," rejoined Diogenesmore earnestly than was his wont. "You will lie very low and take thegreatest possible care not to run your heads into the same rope whereinmayhap mine will dangle presently. Nor will you be playing the part ofcowards, for you have not yet learned the A B C of that part, and youwill remember that on your safety and freedom of action lies my onechance, not so much of life as of saving my last shred of honour."
"What do you mean?"
"The jongejuffrouw--" he whispered, "I swore to bring her back to herfather and I must cheat a rascal of his victory. In the confusion--atdawn to-morrow--think above all of the jongejuffrouw.... In theconfusion you can overpower the guard--rush the miller's hut whereshe is ... carry her off ... the horses are in the shed behind thehut ... you may not have time to think of me."
"But...."
"Silence--they listen...."
"One of us with the jongejuffrouw--the other to help you----"
"Silence ... I may be a dead man by then--the jongejuffrouwremember--make for Ryswyk with her first of all--thence straight toHaarlem--to her father--you can do it easily. A fortune awaits you ifyou bring her safely to him. Fulfil my pledge, old compeers, if I am notalive to do it myself. I don't ask you to swear--I know you'll doit--and if I must to the gallows first I'll do so with a cry oftriumph."
"But you...."
"Silence!" he murmured again peremptorily, but more hoarsely this timefor fatigue and loss of blood and tense excitement are telling upon hisiron physique at last--he is well-nigh spent and scarce able to speak."Silence--I can hear Jan's footsteps. Here! quick! inside my boot ... awallet? Have you got it?" he added with a brief return to his habitualgaiety as he felt Socrates' long fingers groping against his shins, andpresently beheld his wallet in his compeer's hand. "You will find moneyin there--enough for the journey. Now quick into the night, youtwo--disappear for the nonce, and anon when _sauve qui peut_ rings inthe air--to-night or at dawn or whenever this may be, remember thejongejuffrouw first of all and when you are ready give the cry we allknow so well--the cry of the fox when it lures its prey. If I am notdangling on a gibbet by then, I shall understand. But quick now!--Jancomes!--Disappear I say!..."
Quietly and swiftly Socrates slipped the wallet with some of the moneyback into his friend's boot, the rest he hid inside his own doublet.
Strange that between these men there was no need of oaths. Pythagorasand Socrates had said nothing: silent and furtive they disappeared intothe darkness. Diogenes' head sank down upon his breast with a last sighof satisfaction. He knew that his compeers would do what he had asked.Jan's footsteps rang on the hard-frozen ground--silently the livingcircle had parted and the philosophers were swallowed up by the gloom.
Jan looks suspiciously at the groups of men who now stand desultorilyaround.
"Who was standing beside the prisoner just now?" he asks curtly.
"When, captain?" queries one of the men blandly.
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p; "A moment ago. I was descending the steps. The lanthorn was close to theprisoner; I saw two forms--that looked unfamiliar to me--close to him."
"Oh!" rejoined Piet the Red unblushingly, "it must have been my backthat you saw, captain. Willem and I were looking to see that the ropeshad not given way. The prisoner is so restless...."
Jan--not altogether re-assured--goes up to the prisoner. He raises thelanthorn and has a good and comprehensive look at all the ropes. Then heexamines the man's face.
"What ho!" he cries, "a bottle of spiced wine from my wallet. Theprisoner has fainted."