CHAPTER XLV
THE END
Diogenes sat beside the window in the tapperij listening with half anear to the sounds in and about the hostelry which were dying out one byone. At first there had been a footfall in the room overhead which hadseemed to him the sweetest music that man could hear. It had pacedsomewhat restlessly up and down and to the Laughing Cavalier, the gayand irresponsible soldier of fortune, it had seemed as if every creakingof a loose board beneath the featherweight of that footfall found itsecho in his heart.
But anon Mynheer Cornelius Beresteyn was called away and then all wasstill in the room upstairs, and Diogenes burying his head in his handsevoked the picture of that room as he had seen it five days ago. Theproud jongejuffrouw in her high-backed chair, looking on him with blueeyes which she vainly tried to render hard through their exquisiteexpression of appealing, childlike gentleness: and he groaned aloud withthe misery of the inevitable which with stern finger bade him go andleave behind him all the illusions, all the dreams which he had dared toweave.
Had she not told him that she despised him, that his existence was asnaught to her, that she looked on him as a menial and a knave, somewhatbelow the faithful henchmen who were in her father's service? Ye gods!he had endured much in his life of privations, of physical and mentalpain, but was there aught on earth or in the outermost pits of hell tobe compared with the agony of this ending to a dream.
The serving-wench came in just then. She scarcely dared approach themynheer with the merry voice and the laughter-filled eyes who now lookedso inexpressibly sad.
Yet she had a message for him. Mynheer Cornelius Beresteyn, she said,desired to speak with him once more. The wench had murmured the wordsshyly, for her heart was aching for the handsome soldier and the tearswere very near her eyes. But hearing the message he had jumped up withalacrity and was immediately ready to follow her.
Mynheer Beresteyn had a room on the upper floor, she explained, as sheled the way upstairs. The old man was standing on the narrow landing andas soon as Diogenes appeared upon the stairs, he said simply:
"There was something I did forget to say to you downstairs; may Itrouble you, sir, to come into my room for a moment."
He threw open one of the doors that gave on the landing and politelystood aside that his visitor might pass through. Diogenes entered theroom: he heard the door being closed behind him, and thought thatMynheer Beresteyn had followed him in.
The room was very dimly lighted by a couple of tallow candles thatflickered in their sconces, and at first he could not see into the darkrecesses of the room. But presently something moved, something etherealand intangible, white and exquisite. It stirred from out the depths ofthe huge high-backed chair, and from out the gloom there came a littlecry of surprise and of joy which was as the call of bird or angel.
He did not dare to move, he scarcely dared to breathe. He looked roundfor Mynheer Beresteyn who had disappeared.
Surely this could be only a dream. Nothing real on earth could be soexquisite as that subtle vision which he had of her now, sitting in thehigh-backed chair, leaning slightly forward toward him. Gradually hiseyes became accustomed to the gloom: he could see her quite distinctlynow, her fair curls round her perfect head, her red lips parted, hereyes fixed upon him with a look which he dared not interpret.
All around him was the silence and the darkness of the night, and he wasalone with her just as he had been in this very room five days ago andthen again at Rotterdam.
"St. Bavon, you rogue!" he murmured, "where are you? How dare you leaveme in the lurch like this?"
Then--how it all happened he could not himself have told you--hesuddenly found himself at her feet, kneeling beside the high-backedchair; his arms were round her shoulders and he could feel the exquisiteperfume of her breath upon his cheek.
"St. Bavon," he cried exultingly to himself, "go away, you rogue!there's no need for your admonitions now."
Mynheer Beresteyn tiptoed quietly into the room. The roguish smile stillplayed around his lips. He came up close to the high-backed chair andplaced his hand upon his daughter's head.
Diogenes looked up, and met the kindly eyes of the old man fixed withcalm earnestness upon him.
"Mynheer," he said, and laughter which contained a world of happiness aswell as of joy danced and sparkled in every line of his face, "just nowI refused one half of your fortune! But 'tis your greatest treasure Iclaim from you now."
"Nay! you rascal," rejoined Beresteyn, as he lifted his daughter's chingently with one finger and looked into her deep blue eyes which werebrimful of happiness, "methinks that that treasure is yours already!"
"Go back, good St. Bavon," cried the Laughing Cavalier in an ecstasy ofjoy, "your heaven--you rogue--is not more perfect than this."
By BARONESS ORCZY
"UNTO CAESAR"
EL DORADO
MEADOWSWEET
THE NOBLE ROGUE
THE HEART OF A WOMAN
PETTICOAT RULE
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