CHAPTER III
AN INTERLUDE
And at the corner of Dam Straat, where the low postern gate cuts intothe tall stuccoed wall, there once more reigned silence as of the grave.
Those that were hurt and wounded had managed to crawl away, the townguard had made short work of it all; the laws against street brawlingand noisy assemblies were over severe just now; it was best to hide awound and go nurse it quietly at home. Fortunately the fog favoured thedisturbers of the peace. Gradually they all contrived to sneak away, andlater on in the night to sally forth again for watch-night revelries,looking for all the world as if nothing had happened.
"Tumult? Papist baiting? Was there really any Papist baiting this night?Ah! these foreign adventurers do fill our peaceful city with theirnoise."
In the Dam Straat the fog and the darkness reigned unchallenged. Thesecond torch lay extinguished on the ground, trampled out under the heelof a heavy boot. And in the darkness three men were busy readjustingtheir mantles and trying to regain possession of their hats.
"A very unprofitable entertainment," growled Socrates.
"Total darkness, not a soul in sight, and cold! fit to chill the innerchambers of hell," assented Pythagoras.
"And no chance of adding anything to the stock of three guilders whichmust suffice us for to-night," concluded Diogenes airily.
He was carefully wiping the shining blade of Bucephalus with the cornerof Pythagoras' mantle.
"Verrek jezelf! and what the d----l?" queried the latter in a highfalsetto.
"My mantle is almost new," said Diogenes reproachfully; "thou would'stnot have me soil it so soon?"
"I have a hole in my head fit to bury those three guilders in," murmuredSocrates, with a sigh.
"And I a blow in the stomach which has chilled me to the marrow," sighedPythagoras.
"And I a bruised shoulder," laughed Diogenes, "which hath engendered anunquenchable thirst."
"I wouldn't sell my thirst for any money this night," assentedPythagoras.
"To the 'Lame Cow,' then, O Pythagoras, and I'll toss thee for the firstdrink of hot ale."
"Ugh! but my head feels mightily hot and thick," said Socrates, somewhathuskily.
"Surely thou canst walk as far as the 'Lame Cow'?" queried Pythagoras,anxiously.
"I doubt me," sighed the other.
"Ale!" whispered Diogenes, encouragingly; "warm, sparkling, spicy ale!"
"Hm! hm!" assented the wounded man feebly.
"Easy! easy, my friend," said Diogenes, for his brother philosopher hadfallen heavily against him.
"What are we to do?" moaned Pythagoras, in his dulcet tones. "I have athirst ... and we cannot leave this irresponsible fool to faint here inthe fog."
"Hoist him up by the seat of his breeches, then on to my back," retortedDiogenes lightly. "The 'Lame Cow' is not far, and I too have a thirst."
Socrates would have protested. He did not relish the idea of beingtossed about like a bale of goods on his friend's back. But he couldonly protest by word of mouth, to which the others paid no heed; andwhen he tried to struggle he rolled, dizzy and faint, almost to theground.
"There's nothing for it," piped Pythagoras with consummate philosophy."I couldn't carry him if I tried."
Diogenes bent his broad back and rested his hands on his thighs, gettingas firm hold of the slippery ground as he could. Socrates for the momentwas like a helpless log. There was much groping about in the darkness, agood deal of groaning, and a vast amount of swearing. Socrates had,fortunately, not fainted, and after a little while was able to settledown astride on his friend's back, his arms around the latter's neck,Pythagoras giving vigorous pushes from the rear.
When Diogenes, firmly grasping the wounded man's legs, was at last ableto straighten himself out again, and did so to the accompaniment of amighty groan and still more mighty oath, he found himself confronted bytwo lanthorns which were held up within a few inches of his nose.
"Dondersteen!" he ejaculated loudly, and nearly dropped hishalf-conscious and swaying burden on the ground.
"What is it now, Jakob?" queried a woman's voice peremptorily.
"I cannot see clearly, lady," replied one of the lanthorn-bearers--"twomen I think."
"Then do thy thoughts proclaim thee a liar, friend," said Diogeneslightly; "there are three men here at this lady's service, though one issick, the other fat, and the third a mere beast of burden."
"Let me see them, Jakob," ordered the woman. "I believe they are thesame three men who...."
The lanthorn-bearers made way for the lady, still holding the lanthornsup so that the light fell fully on the quaint spectacle presented by thethree philosophers. There was Socrates perched up aloft, his bird-likeface smeared with blood, his eyes rolling in their effort to keep open,his thin back bent nearly double so that indeed he looked like a hugeplucked crow the worse for a fight, and perched on an eminence where hefelt none too secure. And below him his friend with broad shouldersbending under the burden, his plumed hat shading his brow, his merry,twinkling eyes fixed a little suspiciously on the four figures thatloomed out of the fog in front of him, his mocking lips ready framed fora smile or an oath, his hands which supported the legs of poor woundedSocrates struggling visibly toward the hilt of his sword. And peepinground from behind him the short, rotund form of Pythagoras, crowned witha tall sugar-loaf hat which obviously had never belonged to him untilnow, for it perched somewhat insecurely above his flat, round face, withthe small, upturned nose slightly tinged with pink and the tiny eyes,round and bright as new crowns.
Undoubtedly the sight was ludicrous in the extreme, and the woman who
looked on it now burst into a merry peal of laughter.
"O Maria! dost see them?" she said, turning to her companion, an elderlywoman in sober black gown and coif of tinsel lace. "Hast ever seenanything so quaint?"
She herself was young, and in the soft light of the two lanthornsappeared to the three philosophers to be more than passing fair.
"Socrates, thou malapert," said Diogenes sternly, "take my hat off myhead at once, and allow me to make obeisance to the lady, or I'll dropthee incontinently on thy back."
Then, as Socrates half mechanically lifted the plumed hat from hisfriend's head, the latter bowed as well as he could under thecircumstances and said gallantly:
"Thy servants, lady, and eternally grateful are we for a sight of theeat this moment when the world appeared peculiarly fog-ridden andunpleasant. Having been the fortunate cause of thy merriment, might wenow crave thy permission to continue our way. The weight of my friend upthere is greater than his importance warrants, and I don't want to drophim ere we reach a haven of refuge, where our priceless thirst willsoon, I hope, find solace."
The delicate face of the young girl had suddenly become more grave.
"Your pardon, gentle sirs," she said, with a pretty mixture ofimperiousness and humility; "my levity was indeed misplaced. I know yenow for the same three brave fellows who were fighting a few moments agoagainst overwhelming odds, in order to protect a woman against a rowdycrowd. Oh, it was a valorous deed! My men and I were on our way towatch-night service, and saw it all from a distance. We dared not comenigh, the rabble looked so threatening. All I could do was to shout forhelp, and summon the town guard to your aid. It was you, was it not?"she added, regarding with great wondering blue eyes the three curiousfigures who stood somewhat sheepishly before her.
"Yes, fair lady," piped Pythagoras, in his neatest falsetto, "we werethe three men who, in the face of well-nigh overwhelming odds, did savea defenceless woman from the insolent rabble. My friend who is perchedup there was severely wounded in the fray, I myself received so violenta blow in the stomach that a raging thirst has since taken possession ofmy throat, and----"
He stopped abruptly and murmured a comprehensive oath. He had justreceived a violent kick in the shins from Diogenes.
"What the h----?" he muttered.
But Diogenes paid no heed to him; looking on the dainty
picture beforehim, with eyes that twinkled whilst they did not attempt to conceal theadmiration which he felt, he said, with elaborate gallantry, which hisposition under the burden of Socrates' swaying figure renderedinexpressibly droll:
"For the help rendered to us all at the moment of distress, deign toaccept, mejuffrouw, our humble thanks. For the rest, believe me, ourdeed was not one of valour, and such as it was it is wholly unworthy ofthe praise thou dost deign to bestow upon it. I would tell thee more,"he added, whimsically, "only that my friend behind me is violentlykicking the calves of my legs, which renders the elegant flow oflanguage well nigh impossible. I stopped him talking just now--heretaliates ... it is but just."
"Gentle sir," said the girl, who obviously had much ado to preserve hergravity, "your modesty doth but equal your gallantry. This do I seequite plainly. But if at any time I can do aught to express in a morepractical manner the real admiration which I feel for your worth I prayyou command me. Alas! brave men are few these days! But my father's nameis known throughout Holland; his wealth and influence are vast. I prayyou tell me, can I do aught for you now?"
She spoke so artlessly and at the same time with such gentle dignity, itwas small wonder that for the nonce even the most talkative of allphilosophers was dumb, and that his habitual mocking banter failed tocross his lips. The girl was young and exquisitely pretty; the stiff,unwieldy costume of the time failed to conceal altogether the gracefulslenderness of her figure, just as the prim coif of gold and silvertissue failed to hold the unruly golden curls in bondage. The light fromthe lanthorns fell full on her face, and round her throat, beneath herfur-lined cloak, there was a glimmer of starched linen and lace, whilstgems in her ears and on her breast lent her an air of elegance and evenof splendour.
Pythagoras in the rear heaved a deep sigh; he drew in his breathpreparatory to a long and comprehensive oration. "Can I do aught forye?" the lady had said: a lady who was rich and influential and willing.Ye thunders and lightnings! when but three guilders stood between threephilosophers and absolute penury! Ye hails and storms! what anopportunity! He would have approached the lady, only Diogenes' wideshoulders blocked him out from her view.
"Can I do aught for you now?" she reiterated gently.
"Raise thy hand to my lips," said Diogenes lightly; "momentarily I havenot the use of mine own."
She hesitated, but only for a brief moment, then did just what he asked.She held her hand to his lips, mayhap one second longer than wasabsolutely necessary, and her eyes, large, deep and shy, looked for thatone second into a pair of merry, mocking ones. Then she sighed, whetherwith satisfaction or embarrassment I would not undertake to say, andasked with a gracious smile:
"And what is your next wish, gentle sir?"
"Thy leave to continue our journey to the 'Lame Cow,'" he repliedairily; "my friend up there is getting damnably heavy."
She drew back, visibly surprised and hurt.
"I do not detain ye," she said curtly, and without another word sheturned to her lanthorn-bearers and ordered them to precede her; she alsocalled to her duenna to follow; but she did not bestow another look onthe three men, nor did she acknowledge the respectful farewell whichcame from the lips of the beast of burden.
The next moment she had already crossed the road toward the cathedral,and she and her escort were swallowed up by the fog.
"Well, of all the d----d idiots that ever...." swore Pythagoras, in hisshrillest tones.
Even Socrates pulled himself together in order to declare emphaticallythat Diogenes was a confounded fool.
"I pray thee raise thy hand to my lips," mimicked Pythagoras mockingly."Verrek jezelf!" he muttered under his breath.
"If you do not hold your tongue, O wise Pythagoras," retorted Diogeneswith all his wonted merriment, "I'll even have to drop Socrates on thetop of you in order to break your head."
"But 'tis a fortune--the promise of a fortune which you let slip sostupidly."
"There is a certain wisdom even in stupidity sometimes, Pythagoras, asyou will discover one day, when your nose is less red and your figureless fat. Remember that I have three guilders in my pocket, and that ourthirst hath not grown less. Follow me now, we've talked enough forto-night."
And he started walking down the street with long and rapid strides.Socrates up aloft swaying about like a dummy figure in carnival time,and Pythagoras--still muttering a series of diversified oaths--bringingup the rear.