CHAPTER IV
WATCH-NIGHT
And am I not proved fully justified in my statement that but for manyseemingly paltry circumstances, the further events which I am about toplace on record, and which have been of paramount importance to thehistory of no less than two great and worthy families, never would haveshaped themselves as they did.
For who could assert that but for the presence of three philosophers onthe Grootemarkt on the eve of the New Year, and their subsequentinterference in the fray outside the Papist convent door in the DamStraat, who could assert, I say, that but for these minor circumstancesJongejuffrouw Beresteyn would ever have condescended to exchange half adozen words with three out-at-elbows, homeless, shiftless, foreignadventurers who happened to have drifted into Haarlem--the Lord onlyknew for what purpose and with what hopes.
Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn had been well and rigidly brought up; she waswell educated, and possessed more knowledge than most young girls of hersocial standing or of her age. Mynheer Beresteyn, her father, was agentleman of vast consideration in Haarlem, and as his two children hadbeen motherless as soon as the younger one saw the light of day, he hadbeen doubly careful in his endeavours that his daughter should in no wayfeel the lack of that tender supervision of which it had pleased God todeprive her.
Thus she had been taught early in life to keep herself aloof from allpersons save those approved of by her father or her brother--a youngman of sound understanding, some half dozen years older than herself. Asfor the strangers who for purposes of commerce or other less avowablemotives filled the town of Haarlem with their foreign ways--which oftwere immoral and seldom sedate--she had been strictly taught to holdthese in abhorrence and never to approach such men either with word orgesture.
Was it likely, then, that she ever would have spoken to three thriftlessknaves?--and this at a late hour of the night--but for the fact that shehad witnessed their valour from a distance, and with queenlycondescension hoped to reward them with a gracious word.
The kiss imprinted upon her hand by respectful, if somewhat bantering,lips had greatly pleased her: such she imagined would be the homage of avassal proud to have attracted the notice of his lady paramount. Thecurtly expressed desire to quit her presence, in order to repair to atavern, had roused her indignation and her contempt.
She was angered beyond what the circumstance warranted, and while theminister preached an admirable and learned watch-night sermon she felther attention drifting away from the discourse and the solemnity of theoccasion, whilst her wrath against a most unworthy object was taking theplace of more pious and charitable feelings.
The preacher had taken for his text the sublime words from the NewTestament: "The greatest of these is charity." He thought that the firstday of the New Year was a splendid opportunity for the good inhabitantsof Haarlem to cast off all gossiping and back-biting ways and to livefrom this day forth in greater amity and benevolence with one another."Love thy neighbour as thyself," he adjured passionately, and theburghers, with their vrouws in their Sunday best, were smitten withremorse of past scandal-mongering, and vowed that in the future theywould live in perfect accord and good-will.
Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn, too, thought of all her friends andacquaintances with the kindliest of feelings, and she had not a harshthought for anyone in her heart ... not for anyone, at any rate, who wasgood and deserving.... As for that knavish malapert with the merry,twinkling eyes and the mocking smile, surely God would not desire her tobe in charity with him; a more ungrateful, more impertinent wretch, shehad never met, and it was quite consoling to think of all that MynheerBeresteyn's influence could have done for those three ragamuffins, andhow in the near future they must all suffer abominable discomfort,mayhap with shortage of food and drink, or absence of shelter, when nodoubt one of them at least would remember with contrition themagnanimous offer of help made to him by gracious lips, and which he hadso insolently refused.
So absorbed was Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn in these thoughts that she nevereven noticed that the watch-night service was over, and the ministeralready filing out with the clerk. The general exodus around herrecalled her to herself and also to a sense of contrition for the absentway in which she had assisted at this solemn service.
She whispered to Maria to wait for her outside the church with the men.
"I must yet pray for a little while alone," she said. "I will join youat the north door in a quarter of an hour."
And she fell on her knees, and was soon absorbed in prayer.
Maria found the two serving men in the crowd, and transmitted to themher mistress's orders. The cathedral had been very full for the service,and the worshippers took a long time filing out; they lingered about inthe aisles, exchanging bits of city gossip and wishing one another ahappy New Year.
The verger had much ado to drive the goodly people out of the edifice,no sooner had he persuaded one group of chatterers to continue theirconversation on the Grootemarkt outside, than another batch seemed toloom out of the shadows, equally determined to conclude its gossip herein the warmth, before sallying forth once more into the foggy midnightair.
"I must close the cathedral for the night," the worthy man repeatedpiteously, "do you think that I don't want to get home and eat mywatch-night supper at a reasonable hour. Move on there, my masters, moveout please! My orders are to have the church closed before one o'clock."
He came on a group of men who sat together in the shadow of a heavypillar close behind the pulpit.
"Now then, mynheers," he said, "'tis closing time."
But those that were there made no sign to obey.
"All right, Perk," said one of them in a whisper, "we are not going justyet."
"Aye, but ye are," retorted the verger gruffly, for he was cross now andwanting his supper, "what should I allow ye to stay for?"
"For the memory of Jan!" was the whispered response.
The verger's manner changed in an instant, the few words evidently boresome portentous meaning of which he held the key--and I doubt not butthat the key was made of silver.
"All right, mynheers," he said softly, "the church will be clear in afew minutes now."
"Go round, Perk," said he who had first spoken, "and let us know whenall is safe."
The verger touched his forelock and silently departed. Those that werethere in the shadow by the great pillar remained in silence awaiting hisreturn. The congregation was really dispersing now, the patter ofleather shoes on the flagstones of the floor became gradually morefaint; then it died out altogether. That portion of the Groote Kerkwhere is situated the magnificent carved pulpit was already quite darkand wholly deserted save for that group of silent, waiting figures thatlooked like shadows within the shadows.
Anon the verger returned. He had only been absent a few minutes.
"Quite safe now, mynheers," he said, "the last of them has just gonethrough the main door. I have locked all the doors save the West. If youwant anything you will find me there. I can leave this one light foryou, the others I must put out."
"Put them out, Perk, by all means," was the ready response. "We can findour way about in the dark."
The verger left them undisturbed; his shuffling steps were heard glidingalong the flagstones until their murmur died away in the vastness of thesacred edifice.
The group of men who sat behind the pulpit against the heavy pillar, nowdrew their rush chairs closer to one another.
There were six of them altogether, and the light from the lamp aboveillumined their faces, which were stern looking, dark and of setdetermination. All six of them were young; only one amongst them mighthave been more than thirty years of age; that a great purpose broughtthem here to-night was obvious from their attitude, the low murmur oftheir voices, that air of mystery which hung round them, fostered by thedark cloaks which they held closely wrapped round their shoulders andthe shadows from the pillar which they sought.
One of them appeared to be the centre of their interest, a man, lean andpallid-looking, w
ith hollow purple-rimmed eyes, that spoke of nightvigils or mayhap of unavowed, consuming thoughts. The mouth was hard andthin, and a febrile excitement caused his lips to quiver and his hand toshake.
The others hung upon his words.
"Tell us some of your adventures, Stoutenburg!" said one of themeagerly.
Stoutenburg laughed harshly and mirthlessly.
"They would take years in telling," he said, "mayhap one day I'll writethem down. They would fill many a volume."
"Enough that you did contrive to escape," said another man, "and thatyou are back here amongst us once more."
"Yes! in order to avenge wrongs that are as countless by now as thegrains of sand on the sea-shore," rejoined Stoutenburg earnestly.
"You know that you are not safe inside Holland," suggested he who hadfirst spoken.
"Aye, my good Beresteyn, I know that well enough," said Stoutenburg witha long and bitter sigh. "Your own father would send me to the gallows ifhe had the chance, and you with me mayhap, for consorting with me."
"My father owes his position, his wealth, the prosperity of hisenterprise to the Stadtholder," said Beresteyn, speaking with as muchbitterness as his friend. "He looked upon the last conspiracy againstthe life of the Prince of Orange as a crime blacker than the blackestsin that ever deserved hell.... If he thought that I ... at the presentmoment...."
"Yes I know. But he has not the power to make you false to me, has he,Nicolaes?" asked Stoutenburg anxiously. "You are still at one with us?"
"With you to the death!" replied Beresteyn fervently, "so are we all."
"Aye! that we are," said the four others with one accord, whilst one ofthem added dryly:
"And determined not to fail like the last time by trusting those paidhirelings, who will take your money and betray you for more."
"Last February we were beset with bunglers and self-seekers," saidStoutenburg, "my own brother Groeneveld was half-hearted in everythingsave the desire to make money. Slatius was a vindictive boor, van Dykwas a busy-body and Korenwinder a bloated fool. Well! they have paidtheir penalty. Heaven have their souls! But for God's sake let us do thework ourselves this time."
"They say that the Stadtholder is sick unto death," said one of the mensombrely. "Disease strikes with a surer hand sometimes than doth theponiard of an enemy."
"Bah! I have no time to waste waiting for his death," retortedStoutenburg roughly, "there is an opportunity closer at hand and moreswift than the weary watching for the slow ravages of disease. TheStadtholder comes to Amsterdam next week; the burghers of his belovedcity have begged of him to be present at the consecration of the WesternKerk, built by Mynheer van Keyser, as well as at the opening of the EastIndia Company's new hall. He plays up for popularity just now. Thefestivals in connection with the double event at Amsterdam have temptedhim to undertake the long journey from the frontier, despite his failinghealth. His visit to this part of the country is a golden opportunitywhich I do not intend to miss."
"You will find it very difficult to get near the Stadtholder on such anoccasion," remarked Beresteyn. "He no longer drives about unattended ashe used to do."
"All the escort in the world will not save him from my revenge," saidStoutenburg firmly. "Our position now is stronger than it has ever been.I have adherents in every city of Holland and of Zealand, aye, and inthe south too as far as Breda and in the east as far as Arnhem. I tellyou, friends, that I have spread a net over this country out of whichMaurice of Orange cannot escape. My organisation too is better than itwas. I have spies within the camp at Sprang, a knot of determined menall along the line between Breda and Amsterdam, at Gouda, atDelft ... especially at Delft."
"Why specially there?" asked Beresteyn.
"Because I have it in my mind that mayhap we need not take the risks ofaccomplishing our coup in Amsterdam itself. As you say it might be verydifficult and very dangerous to get at the Stadtholder on a publicoccasion.... But Delft is on the way.... Maurice of Orange is certain tohalt at Delft, if only in order to make a pilgrimage to the spot wherehis father was murdered. He will, I am sure, sleep more than one nightat the Prinsenhof.... And from Delft the way leads northwards pastRyswyk--Ryswyk close to which I have had my headquarters three weekspast--Ryswyk, my friends!" he continued, speaking very rapidly almostincoherently in his excitement, "where I have arms and ammunition,Ryswyk, which is the rallying point for all my friends ... the molens!you remember?... close to the wooden bridge which spans the Schie.... Ihave enough gunpowder stored at that molens to blow up twenty woodenbridges ... and the Stadtholder with his escort must cross the woodenbridge which spans the Schie not far from the molens where I have myheadquarters.... I have it all in my mind already.... I only wait tohear news of the actual day when the Stadtholder leaves his camp.... Ican tell you more to-morrow, but in the meanwhile I want to know ifthere are a few men about here on whom I can rely at a moment'snotice ... whom I can use as spies or messengers ... or even to lend mea hand at Ryswyk in case of need ... thirty or forty would besufficient ... if they are good fighting men.... I said something aboutthis in my message to you all."
"And I for one acted on your suggestion at once," said one of theothers. "I have recruited ten stout fellows: Germans and Swiss, whoknow not a word of our language. I pay them well and they ask noquestions. They will fight for you, spy for you, run for you, doanything you choose, and can betray nothing, since they know nothing.They are at your disposal at any moment."
"That is good, and I thank you, my dear Heemskerk."
"I have half a dozen peasants on my own estate on whom I can rely," saidanother of Stoutenburg's friends. "They are good fighters, hard-headedand ready to go through fire and water for me. They are as safe asforeign mercenaries, for they will do anything I tell them and will doit without asking the reason why."
"I have another eight or ten foreigners to offer you," said a third,"they come from a part of Britain called Scotland so I understand. Ipicked them up a week ago when they landed at Scheveningen and engagedthem in my service then and there."
"And I can lay my hand at any moment on a dozen or so young apprenticesin my father's factory," added a fourth, "they are always ready for afrolic or a fight and ready to follow me to hell if need be."
"You see that you can easily count on three dozen men," concludedBeresteyn.
"Three dozen men ready to hand," said Stoutenburg, "for our presentneeds they should indeed suffice. Knowing that I can reckon on them Ican strike the decisive blow when and how I think it best. It is theblow that counts," he continued between set teeth, "after thateverything is easy enough. The waverers hang back until success isassured. But our secret adherents in Holland can be counted by thescore, in Zealand and Utrecht by the hundred. When Maurice of Orange haspaid with his own blood the penalty which his crimes have incurred, whenI can proclaim myself over his dead body Stadtholder of the NorthernProvinces, Captain and Admiral General of the State, thousands willrally round us and flock to our banner. Thousands feel as we do, thinkas we do, and know what we know, that John of Barneveld will not rest inhis grave till I, his last surviving son, have avenged him. Who madethis Republic what she is? My father. Who gave the Stadtholder the mightwhich he possesses? My father. My father whose name was revered andhonoured throughout the length and breadth of Europe and whom aningrate's hand hath branded with the mark of traitor. The Stadtholderbrought my father to the scaffold, heaping upon him accusations oftreachery which he himself must have known were groundless. When theStadtholder sent John of Barneveld to the scaffold he committed a crimewhich can only be atoned for by his own blood. Last year we failed. Themercenaries whom we employed betrayed us. My brother, our friends wentthe way my father led, victims all of them of the rapacious ambition,the vengeful spite of the Stadtholder. But I escaped as by a miracle!--amiracle I say it was, my friends, a miracle wrought by the God ofvengeance, who hath said: 'I will repay!' He hath also said thatwhosoever sheds the blood of man, by man shall his blood be shed! I amthe instrument of his vengea
nce. Vengeance is mine! 'tis I who willrepay!"
He had never raised his voice during this long peroration, but hisdiction had been none the less impressive because it was spoken underhis breath. The others had listened in silence, awed, no doubt, by thebitter flood of hate which coursed through every vein of this man's bodyand poured in profusion from his lips. The death of father and brotherand of many friends, countless wrongs, years of misery, loss of caste,of money and of home had numbed him against every feeling save that ofrevenge.
"This time I'll let no man do the work for me," he said after a moment'ssilence, "if you will all stand by me, I will smite the Stadtholder withmine own hand."
This time he had raised his voice, just enough to wake the echo thatslept in the deserted edifice.
"Hush!" whispered one of his friends, "Hush! for God's sake!"
"Bah! the church is empty," retorted Stoutenburg, "and the verger toofar away to hear. I'll say it again, and proclaim it loudly now in thisvery church before the altar of God: I will kill the Stadtholder withmine own hand!"
"Silence in the name of God!"
More than one muffled voice had uttered the warning and Beresteyn's handfell heavily on Stoutenburg's arm.
"Hush, I say!" he whispered hoarsely, "there's something moving there inthe darkness."
"A rat mayhap!" quoth Stoutenburg lightly.
"No, no ... listen!... some one moves ... some one has beenthere ... all along...."
"A spy!" murmured the others under their breath.
In a moment every man there had his hand on his sword: Stoutenburg andBeresteyn actually drew theirs. They did not speak to one another forthey had caught one another's swift glance, and the glance had in it theforecast of a grim resolve.
Whoever it was who thus moved silently out of the shadows--spy or merelyindiscreet listener--would pay with his life for the knowledge which hehad obtained. These men here could no longer afford to take any risks.The words spoken by Stoutenburg and registered by them all could be madethe stepping stones to the scaffold if strange ears had caught theirpurport.
They meant death to someone, either to the speakers or to theeavesdropper; and six men were determined that it should be theeavesdropper who must pay for his presence here.
They forced their eyes to penetrate the dense gloom which surroundedthem, and one and all held their breath, like furtive animals thatawait their prey. They stood there silent and rigid, a tense look onevery face; the one light fixed in the pillar above them played weirdlyon their starched ruffs scarce whiter than the pallid hue of theircheeks.
Then suddenly a sound caught their ears, which caused each man to startand to look at his nearest companion with set inquiring eyes; it was thesound of a woman's skirt swishing against the stone-work of the floor.The seconds went by leaden-footed and full of portentous meaning. Eachheart-beat beneath the vaulted roof of the cathedral to-night seemedlike a knell from eternity.
How slow the darkness was in yielding up its secret!
At last as the conspirators gazed, they saw the form of a woman emergingout of the shadows. At first they could only see her starched kerchiefand a glimmer of jewels beneath her cloak. Then gradually thefigure--ghostlike in this dim light--came more fully into view; the faceof a woman, her lace coif, the gold embroidery of her stomacher allbecame detached one by one, but only for a few seconds, for the womanwas walking rapidly, nor did she look to right or left, but glided alongthe floor like a vision--white, silent, swift--which might have beenconjured up by a fevered brain.
"A ghost!" whispered one of the young men hoarsely.
"No. A woman," said another, and the words came like a hissing soundthrough his teeth.
Beresteyn and Stoutenburg said nothing for a while. They looked silentlyon one another, the same burning anxiety glowing in their eyes, the sameglance of mute despair passing from one to the other.
"Gilda!" murmured Stoutenburg at last.
The swish of the woman's skirt had died away in the distance; not one ofthe men had attempted to follow her or to intercept her passage.
Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn, no spy of course, just a chance eavesdropper!but possessed nevertheless now of a secret which meant death to themall!
"How much did she hear think you?" asked Stoutenburg at last.
He had replaced his sword in his scabbard with a gesture that expressedhis own sense of fatality. He could not use his sword against awoman--even had that woman not been Gilda Beresteyn.
"She cannot have heard much," said one of the others, "we spoke inwhispers."
"If she had heard anything she would have known that only the west doorwas to remain open. Yet she has made straight for the north portal,"suggested another.
"If she did not hear the verger speaking she could not have heard whatwe said," argued a third somewhat lamely.
Every one of them had some suggestion to put forward, some surmise toexpress, some hope to urge. Only Beresteyn said nothing. He had stoodby, fierce and silent ever since he had first recognized his sister;beneath his lowering brows the resolve had not died out of his eyes, andhe still held his sword unsheathed in his hand.
Stoutenburg now appealed directly to him.
"What do you think of it, Beresteyn?" he asked.
"I think that my sister did hear something of our conversation," heanswered quietly.
"Great God!" ejaculated the others.
"But," added Beresteyn slowly, "I pledge you mine oath that she will notbetray us."
"How will you make sure of that?" retorted Stoutenburg, not without asneer.
"That is mine affair."
"And ours too. We can do nothing, decide on nothing until we are sure."
"Then I pray you wait for me here," concluded Beresteyn. "I will bringyou a surety before we part this night."
"Let me go and speak to her," urged Stoutenburg.
"No, no, 'tis best that I should go."
Stoutenburg made a movement as if he would detain him, then seemed tothink better of it, and finally let him go.
Beresteyn did not wait for further comment from his friends but quicklyturned on his heel. The next moment he was speeding away across the vastedifice and his tall figure was soon swallowed up by the gloom.
CHAPTER V
BROTHER AND SISTER