CHAPTER VI
THE COUNSELS OF PRUDENCE
Neither Stoutenburg nor any of the others had made reply to Beresteyn'sfirmly spoken oath. They were hard-headed Dutchmen, every one of them:men of action rather than men of words: for good or ill the rest of theworld can judge them forever after by their deeds alone.
Therefore when the spectre of betrayal and of subsequent death appearedso suddenly before them they neither murmured nor protested. They couldnot in reason blame Beresteyn for his sister's presence in the cathedralthis night, nor yet that her thoughts and feelings in the matter of theenmity between the Stadtholder and the Barneveld family did not coincidewith their own.
Silently they walked across the vast and lonely cathedral and filed oneby one out of the western door where Perk still held faithful watch.Stoutenburg, their leader, had his lodgings in a small house situate atthe top of the Kleine Hout Straat, close to the well-known hostelry atthe sign of the "Lame Cow." This latter was an hostelry of unimpeachablerepute and thither did the six friends decide to go ere finally goinghome for the night.
It had been decided between them some time ago that those who were ableto do so would show themselves in public as much as possible during thenext few days, so as to ward off any suspicion of intrigue which theirfrequent consorting in secluded places might otherwise have aroused.
Out in the open they thought it best to disperse, electing to walk awaytwo and two rather than in a compact group which might call forth theclose attention of the night watchmen.
Stoutenburg linked his arm in that of Beresteyn.
"Let the others go on ahead," he said confidentially, "you and I,friend, must understand one another ere we part for this night."
Then as Beresteyn made no immediate reply, he continued calmly:
"This will mean hanging for the lot of us this time, Nicolaes!"
"I pray to God ..." exclaimed the other hoarsely.
"God will have nought to say in the matter, my friend," retortedStoutenburg dryly, "'tis only the Stadtholder who will have his say, anddo you think that he is like to pardon...."
"Gilda will never...."
"Oh, yes, she will," broke in Stoutenburg firmly; "be not deluded intothoughts of security. Gilda will think the whole of this matter over forfour and twenty hours at the longest, after which, feeling herself in animpasse between her affection for you and her horror of me, she willthink it her duty to tell your father all that she heard in thecathedral to-night."
"Even then," said Beresteyn, hotly, "my father would not send his onlyson to the gallows."
"Do you care to take that risk?" was the other man's calm retort.
"What can I do?"
"You must act decisively and at once, my friend," said Stoutenburgdryly, "an you do not desire to see your friends marched off to tortureand the scaffold with yourself following in their wake."
"But how? how?" exclaimed Beresteyn.
His was by far the weaker nature of the two: easily led, easily swayedby a will stronger than his own. Stoutenburg wielded vast influence overhim; he had drawn him into the net of his own ambitious schemes, and hadby promises and cajolery won his entire allegiance. Now that destructionand death threatened Nicolaes through his own sister--whom he sincerelyloved--he turned instinctively to Stoutenburg for help and for advice.
"It is quite simple," said the latter slowly. "Gilda must be temporarilymade powerless to do us any harm."
"How?" reiterated Beresteyn helplessly.
"Surely you can think of some means yourself," retorted Stoutenburgsomewhat impatiently. "Self-preservation is an efficient sharpener ofwits as a rule, and your own life is in the hands of a woman now, myfriend."
"You seem to forget that that woman is my sister. How can I conspire todo her bodily harm?"
"Who spake of bodily harm, you simpleton?" quoth Stoutenburg with aharsh laugh, "'tis you who seem to forget that if Gilda is your sistershe is also the woman whom I love more than my life ... more than myambition ... more even than my revenge...."
He paused a moment, for despite his usual self-control his passion atthis moment threatened to master him. His voice rose harsh andquivering, and was like to attract the notice of passers-by. After amoment or two he conquered his emotion and said more calmly:
"Friend, we must think of our country and of our faith; we must think ofthe success of our schemes: and, though Gilda be dear to usboth--infinitely dear to me--she must not be allowed to interfere withthe great object which we hope to attain. Think out a way therefore ofplacing her in such a position that she cannot harm us: have herconveyed to some place where she can be kept a prisoner for a few daysuntil I have accomplished what I have set out to do."
Then as Beresteyn said nothing, seeming to be absorbed in some newtrain of thought, Stoutenburg continued more persuasively:
"I would I could carry her away myself and hold her--a belovedprisoner--while others did my work for me. But that I cannot do: for'twere playing the part of a coward and I have sworn before the altar ofGod that I would kill the Stadtholder with mine own hand. Nor would Ihave the courage so to offend her: for let me tell you this, Nicolaes,that soaring even above my most ambitious dreams, is the hope that whenthese have been realized, I may ask Gilda to share my triumph with me."
"Nor would I have the courage so to offend my sister ... my father,"said Beresteyn. "You speak of carrying her off, and holding her aprisoner for eight days perhaps, or even a fortnight. How can I, her ownbrother, do that? 'Tis an outrage she would never forgive: my fatherwould curse me ... disinherit me ... turn me out of house and home...."
"And will he not curse you now, when he knows--when to-morrow mayhap,Gilda will have told him that you, his son, have joined hands with theLord of Stoutenburg in a conspiracy to murder the Prince of Orange--willhe not disinherit you then? turn you out of house and home?"
"Hold on for mercy's sake," exclaimed Beresteyn, who bewildered by theterrible alternative thus put ruthlessly before him, felt that he mustcollect his thoughts, and must--for the moment at any rate--put awayfrom him the tempter who insinuated thoughts of cowardice into hisbrain.
"I'll say no more, then," said Stoutenburg quietly, "think it all over,Nicolaes. My life, your own, those of all our friends are entirely inyour hands: the welfare of the State, the triumph of our faith depend onthe means which you will devise for silencing Gilda for a few briefdays."
After which there was silence between the two men. Beresteyn walked morerapidly along, his fur-lined cloak wrapped closely round him, his armsfolded tightly across his chest and his hands clenched underneath hiscloak. Stoutenburg on the other hand was also willing to let the matterdrop and to allow the subtle poison which he had instilled into hisfriend's mind to ferment and bring forth such thoughts as would suit hisown plans.
He knew how to gauge exactly the somewhat vacillating character ofNicolaes Beresteyn, and had carefully touched every string of thathighly nervous organization till he left it quivering with horror at thepresent and deathly fear for the future.
Gilda was a terrible danger, of that there could be no doubt. Nicolaeshad realized this to the full: the instinct of self-preservation wasstrong in him; he would think over Stoutenburg's bold suggestion andwould find a way how to act on it. And at the bottom of his tortuousheart Stoutenburg already cherished the hope that this new complicationwhich had dragged Gilda into the net of his own intrigues would alsoultimately throw her--a willing victim--into his loving arms.