Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch

  CHAPTER XIV

  SWORD SILENCE RECEIVES THE SECRET

  For half an hour or more they glided down the canal unmolested andin silence. Now it ran into a broader waterway along which they slidtowards the sea, keeping as much as possible under the shadow of onebank, for although the night was moonless a faint grey light lay uponthe surface of the stream. At length Foy became aware that they werebumping against the sides of a long line of barges and river boats ladenwith timber and other goods. To one of these--it was the fourth--thepilot Hans made fast, tying their row-boat to her stern. Then he climbedto the deck, whispering to them to follow.

  As they scrambled on board, two grey figures arose and Foy saw the flashof steel. Then Hans whistled like a plover, and, dropping their swordsthey came to him and fell into talk. Presently Hans left them, and,returning to Foy and Martin, said:

  "Listen: we must lie here a while, for the wind is against us, and itwould be too dangerous for us to try to row or pole so big a boat downto the sea and across the bar in the darkness, for most likely we shouldset her fast upon a shoal. Before dawn it will turn, and, if I read thesky aright, blow hard off land."

  "What have the bargemen to say?" asked Foy.

  "Only that for these four days they have been lying here forbidden tomove, and that their craft are to be searched to-morrow by a party ofsoldiers, and the cargo taken out of them piecemeal."

  "So," said Foy, "well, I hope that by then what they seek will be faraway. Now show us this ship."

  Then Hans took them down the hatchway, for the little vessel was decked,being in shape and size not unlike a modern Norfolk herring boat, thoughsomewhat more slightly built. Then having lit a lantern, he showed themthe cargo. On the top were bags of salt. Dragging one or two of theseaside, Hans uncovered the heads of five barrels, each of them markedwith the initial _B_ in white paint.

  "That is what men will die for before to-morrow night," he said.

  "The treasure?" asked Foy.

  He nodded. "These five, none of the others." Then still lower downhe pointed out other barrels, eight of them, filled with the bestgunpowder, and showed them too where the slow matches ran to the littlecabin, the cook's galley, the tiller and the prow, by means of any oneof which it could be fired. After this and such inspection of the ropesand sails as the light would allow, they sat in the cabin waiting tillthe wind should change, while the two watching men unmoored the vesseland made her sails ready for hoisting. An hour passed, and still thebreeze blew from the sea, but in uncertain chopping gusts. Then it fellaltogether.

  "Pray God it comes soon," said Martin, "for the owner of that fingerin your pocket will have laid the hounds on to our slot long ago, and,look! the east grows red."

  The silent, hard-faced Hans leant forward and stared up the darklingwater, his hand behind his ear.

  "I hear them," he said presently.

  "Who?" asked Foy.

  "The Spaniards and the wind--both," he answered. "Come, up with themainsail and pole her out to midstream."

  So the three of them took hold of the tackle and ran aft with it, whilethe rings and booms creaked and rattled as the great canvas climbed themast. Presently it was set, and after it the jib. Then, assisted bythe two watchmen thrusting from another of the boats, they pushed the_Swallow_ from her place in the line out into mid-stream. But all thismade noise and took time, and now men appeared upon the bank, calling toknow who dared to move the boats without leave. As no one gave them anyanswer, they fired a shot, and presently a beacon began to burn upon aneighbouring mound.

  "Bad business," said Hans, shrugging his shoulders. "They are warningthe Government ship at the harbour mouth. Duck, masters, duck; herecomes the wind," and he sprang to the tiller as the boom swung over andthe little vessel began to gather way.

  "Yes," said Martin, "and here with it come the Spaniards."

  Foy looked. Through the grey mist that was growing lighter every moment,for the dawn was breaking, he caught sight of a long boat with hercanvas spread which was sweeping round the bend of the stream towardsthem and not much more than a quarter of a mile away.

  "They had had to pole down stream in the dark, and that is why they havebeen so long in coming," said Hans over his shoulder.

  "Well, they are here now at any rate," answered Foy, "and plenty ofthem," he added, as a shout from a score of throats told them that theywere discovered.

  But now the _Swallow_ had begun to fly, making the water hiss uponeither side of her bows.

  "How far is it to the sea?" asked Foy.

  "About three miles," Hans called back from the tiller. "With this windwe should be there in fifteen minutes. Master," he added presently, "bidyour man light the fire in the galley."

  "What for," asked Foy, "to cook breakfast?"

  The pilot shrugged his shoulders and muttered, "Yes, if we live to eatit." But Foy saw that he was glancing at the slow-match by his side, andunderstood.

  Ten minutes passed, and they had swept round the last bend and were inthe stretch of open water which ran down to the sea. By now the lightwas strong, and in it they saw that the signal fire had not been lit invain. At the mouth of the cutting, just where the bar began, the channelwas narrowed in with earth to a width of not more than fifty paces, andon one bank of it stood a foot armed with culverins. Out of the littleharbour of this fort a large open boat was being poled, and in it adozen or fifteen soldiers were hastily arming themselves.

  "What now?" cried Martin. "They are going to stop the mouth of thechannel."

  The hard-featured Hans set his teeth and made no answer. Only helooked backward at his pursuers and onward at those who barred the way.Presently he called aloud:

  "Under hatches, both of you. They are going to fire from the fort," andhe flung himself upon his back, steering with his uplifted arms.

  Foy and Martin tumbled down the hatchway, for they could do no good ondeck. Only Foy kept one eye above its level.

  "Look out!" he said, and ducked.

  As he spoke there was a puff of white smoke from the fort, followed bythe scream of a shot which passed ahead of them. Then came another puffof smoke, and a hole appeared in their brown sail. After this the fortdid not fire again, for the gunners found no time to load their pieces,only some soldiers who were armed with arquebuses began to shoot as theboat swept past within a few yards of them. Heedless of their bullets,Hans the pilot rose to his feet again, for such work as was before himcould not be done by a man lying on his back. By now the large open boatfrom the fort was within two hundred yards of them, and, driven by thegathering pale, the _Swallow_ rushed towards it with the speed of adart. Foy and Martin crawled from the hatchway and lay down near thesteersman under the shelter of the little bulwarks, watching the enemy'sboat, which was in midstream just where the channel was narrowest, andon the hither side of the broken water of the bar.

  "See," said Foy, "they are throwing out anchors fore and aft. Is thereroom to go past them?"

  "No," answered Hans, "the water is too shallow under the bank, and theyknow it. Bring me a burning brand."

  Foy crept forward, and returned with the fire.

  "Now light the slow-match, master."

  Foy opened his blue eyes and a cold shiver went down his back. Then heset his teeth and obeyed. Martin looked at Hans, muttering,

  "Good for a young one!"

  Hans nodded and said, "Have no fear. Till that match burns to the levelof the deck we are safe. Now, mates, hold fast. I can't go past thatboat, so I am going through her. We may sink on the other side, though Iam sure that the fire will reach the powder first. In that case you canswim for it if you like, but I shall go with the _Swallow_."

  "I will think about it when the time comes. Oh! that cursed astrologer,"growled Martin, looking back at the pursuing ship, which was not morethan seven or eight hundred yards away.

  Meanwhile the officer in command of the boat, who was armed with amusket, was shouting to them to pull down their sail and surrender;indeed, not until they w
ere within fifty yards of him did he seem tounderstand their desperate purpose. Then some one in the boat calledout: "The devils are going to sink us," and there was a rush to bow andstern to get up the anchors. Only the officer stood firm, screaming atthem like a madman. It was too late; a strong gust of wind caught the_Swallow_, causing her to heel over and sweep down on the boat like aswooping falcon.

  Hans stood and shifted the tiller ever so little, calculating all thingswith his eye. Foy watched the boat towards which they sprang like athing alive, and Martin, lying at his side, watched the burning match.

  Suddenly the Spanish officer, when their prow was not more than twentypaces from him, ceased to shout, and lifting his piece fired. Martin,looking upwards with his left eye, thought that he saw Hans flinch, butthe pilot made no sound. Only he did something to the tiller, puttingall his strength on to it, and it seemed to the pair of them as thoughthe _Swallow_ was for an instant checked in her flight--certainly herprow appeared to lift itself from the water. Suddenly there was a soundof something snapping--a sound that could be heard even through the yellof terror from the soldiers in the boat. It was the bowsprit which hadgone, leaving the jib flying loose like a great pennon.

  Then came the crash. Foy shut his eyes for a moment, hanging on withboth hands till the scraping and the trembling were done with. Now heopened again, and the first thing he saw was the body of the Spanishofficer hanging from the jagged stump of the bowsprit. He looked behind.The boat had vanished, but in the water were to be seen the heads ofthree or four men swimming. As for themselves they seemed to be clearand unhurt, except for the loss of their bowsprit; indeed, the littlevessel was riding over the seas on the bar like any swan. Hans glancedat the slow-match which was smouldering away perilously near to thedeck, whereon Martin stamped upon it, saying:

  "If we sink now it will be in deep water, so there is no need to fly upbefore we go down."

  "Go and see if she leaks," said Hans.

  They went and searched the forehold but could not find that the_Swallow_ had taken any harm worth noting. Indeed, her massive oakenprow, with the weight of the gale-driven ship behind it, had crashedthrough the frail sides of the open Spanish boat like a knife through anegg.

  "That was good steering," said Foy to Hans, when they returned, "andnothing seems to be amiss."

  Hans nodded. "I hit him neatly," he muttered. "Look. He's gone." As hespoke the _Swallow_ gave a sharp pitch, and the corpse of the Spaniardfell with a heavy splash into the sea.

  "I am glad it has sunk," said Foy; "and now let's have some breakfast,for I am starving. Shall I bring you some, friend Hans?"

  "No, master, I want to sleep."

  Something in the tone of the man's voice caused Foy to scrutinise hisface. His lips were turning blue. He glanced at his hands. Althoughthey still grasped the tiller tightly, these also were turning blue, asthough with cold; moreover, blood was dropping on the deck.

  "You are hit," he said. "Martin, Martin, Hans is hit!"

  "Yes," replied the man, "he hit me and I hit him, and perhaps presentlywe shall be talking it over together. No, don't trouble, it is throughthe body and mortal. Well, I expected nothing less, so I can't complain.Now, listen, while my strength holds. Can you lay a course for Harwichin England?"

  Martin and Foy shook their heads. Like most Hollanders they were goodsailormen, but they only knew their own coasts.

  "Then you had best not try it," said Hans, "for there is a gale brewing,and you will be driven on the Goodwin Sands, or somewhere down thatshore, and drowned and the treasure lost. Run up to the Haarlem Mere,comrades. You can hug the land with this small boat, while that bigdevil after you," and he nodded towards the pursuing vessel, which bynow was crossing the bar, "must stand further out beyond the shoals.Then slip up through the small gut--the ruined farmstead marks it--andso into the mere. You know Mother Martha, the mad woman who is nicknamedthe Mare? She will be watching at the mouth of it; she always is.Moreover, I caused her to be warned that we might pass her way, and ifyou hoist the white flag with a red cross--it lies in the locker--or,after nightfall, hang out four lamps upon your starboard side, she willcome aboard to pilot you, for she knows this boat well. To her also youcan tell your business without fear, for she will help you, and be assecret as the dead. Then bury the treasure, or sink it, or blow it up,or do what you can, but, in the name of God, to whom I go, I charge youdo not let it fall into the hands of Ramiro and his Spanish rats who areat your heels."

  As Hans spoke he sank down upon the deck. Foy ran to support him, but hepushed him aside with a feeble hand. "Let me be," he whispered. "I wishto pray. I have set you a course. Follow it to the end."

  Then Martin took the tiller while Foy watched Hans. In ten minutes hewas dead.

  Now they were running northwards with a fierce wind abeam of them, andthe larger Spanish ship behind, but standing further out to sea to avoidthe banks. Half an hour later the wind, which was gathering to a gale,shifted several points to the north, so that they must beat up againstit under reefed canvas. Still they held on without accident, Foyattending to the sail and Martin steering. The _Swallow_ was a good seaboat, and if their progress was slow so was that of their pursuer, whichdogged them continually, sometimes a mile away and sometimes less. Atlength, towards evening, they caught sight of a ruined house that markedthe channel of the little gut, one of the outlets of the Haarlem Mere.

  "The sea runs high upon the bar and it is ebb tide," said Foy.

  "Even so we must try it, master," answered Martin. "Perhaps she willscrape through," and he put the _Swallow_ about and ran for the mouth ofthe gut.

  Here the waves were mountainous and much water came aboard. Moreover,three times they bumped upon the bar, till at length, to their joy, theyfound themselves in the calm stream of the gut, and, by shifting thesail, were able to draw it up, though very slowly.

  "At least we have got a start of them," said Foy, "for they can neverget across until the tide rises."

  "We shall need it all," answered Martin; "so now hoist the white flagand let us eat while we may."

  While they ate the sun sank, and the wind blew so that scarcely couldthey make a knot an hour, shift the sail as they might. Then, as therewas no sign of Mother Martha, or any other pilot, they hung out the fourlamps upon the starboard side, and, with a flapping sail, drifted ongradually, till at length they reached the mouth of the great mere, aninfinite waste of waters--deep in some places, shallow in others,and spotted everywhere with islets. Now the wind turned against themaltogether, and, the darkness closing in, they were forced to dropanchor, fearing lest otherwise they should go ashore. One comfort theyhad, however: as yet nothing could be seen of their pursuers.

  Then, for the first time, their spirits failed them a little, and theystood together near the stern wondering what they should do. It waswhile they rested thus that suddenly a figure appeared before themas though it had risen from the deck of the ship. No sound of oars orfootsteps had reached their ears, yet there, outlined against the dimsky, was the figure.

  "I think that friend Hans has come to life again," said Martin with aslight quaver in his voice, for Martin was terribly afraid of ghosts.

  "And I think that a Spaniard has found us," said Foy, drawing his knife.

  Then a hoarse voice spoke, saying, "Who are you that signal for a piloton my waters?"

  "The question is--who are you?" answered Foy, "and be so good as to tellus quickly."

  "I am the pilot," said the voice, "and this boat by the rig of her andher signals should be the _Swallow_ of The Hague, but why must I crawlaboard of her across the corpse of a dead man?"

  "Come into the cabin, pilot, and we will tell you," said Foy.

  "Very well, Mynheer." So Foy led the way to the cabin, but Martinstopped behind a while.

  "We have found our guide, so what is the use of the lamps?" he said tohimself as he extinguished them all, except one which he brought withhim into the cabin. Foy was waiting for him by the door and they enteredth
e place together. At the end of it the light of the lamp showed thema strange figure clad in skins so shapeless and sack-like that it wasimpossible to say whether the form beneath were male or female. Thefigure was bareheaded, and about the brow locks of grizzled hair hungin tufts. The face, in which were set a pair of wandering grey eyes,was deep cut, tanned brown by exposure, scarred, and very ugly, withwithered lips and projecting teeth.

  "Good even to you, Dirk van Goorl's son, and to you, Red Martin. I amMother Martha, she whom the Spaniards call the Mare and the Lake-witch."

  "Little need to tell us that, mother," said Foy, "although it is truethat many years have gone by since I set eyes on you."

  Martha smiled grimly as she answered, "Yes, many years. Well, whathave you fat Leyden burghers to do with a poor old night-hag, exceptof course in times of trouble? Not that I blame you, for it is not wellthat you, or your parents either, should be known to traffic with suchas I. Now, what is your business with me, for the signals show that youhave business, and why does the corpse of Hendrik Brant's foster-brotherlie there in the stern?"

  "Because, to be plain, we have Hendrik Brant's treasure on board,mother, and for the rest look yonder--" and he pointed to what his eyehad just caught sight of two or three miles away, a faint light, too lowand too red for a star, that could only come from a lantern hung at themasthead of a ship.

  Martha nodded. "Spaniards after you, poling through the gut against thewind. Come on, there is no time to lose. Bring your boat round, and wewill tow the _Swallow_ to where she will lie safe to-night."

  Five minutes later they were all three of them rowing the oar boat inwhich they had escaped from The Hague towards some unknown point in thedarkness, slowly dragging after them the little ship _Swallow_. As theywent, Foy told Martha all the story of their mission and escape.

  "I have heard of this treasure before," she said, "all the Netherlandshas heard of Brant's hoard. Also dead Hans there let me know thatperhaps it might come this way, for in such matters he thought that Icould be trusted," and she smiled grimly. "And now what would you do?"

  "Fulfil our orders," said Foy. "Hide it if we can; if not, destroy it."

  "Better the first than the last," interrupted Martin. "Hide thetreasure, say I, and destroy the Spaniards, if Mother Martha here canthink of a plan."

  "We might sink the ship," suggested Foy.

  "And leave her mast for a beacon," added Martin sarcastically.

  "Or put the stuff into the boat and sink that."

  "And never find it again in this great sea," objected Martin.

  All this while Martha steered the boat as calmly as though it weredaylight. They had left the open water, and were passing slowly in andout among islets, yet she never seemed to be doubtful or to hesitate. Atlength they felt the _Swallow_ behind them take the mud gently, whereonMartha led the way aboard of her and threw out the anchor, saying thathere was her berth for the night.

  "Now," she said, "bring up this gold and lay it in the boat, for if youwould save it there is much to do before dawn."

  So Foy and Martin went down while Martha, hanging over the hatchway,held the lighted lamp above them, since they dared not take it near thepowder. Moving the bags of salt, soon they came to the five barrels oftreasure marked B, and, strong though they were, it was no easy task forthe pair of them by the help of a pulley to sling them over the ship'sside into the boat. At last it was done, and the place of the barrelshaving been filled with salt bags, they took two iron spades whichwere provided for such a task as this, and started, Martha steering asbefore. For an hour or more they rowed in and out among endless islands,at the dim shores of which Martha stared as they passed, till at lengthshe motioned to them to ship their oars, and they touched ground.

  Leaping from the boat she made it fast and vanished among the reedsto reconnoitre. Presently she returned again, saying that this was theplace. Then began the heavy labour of rolling the casks of treasure forthirty yards or more along otter paths that pierced the dense growth ofreeds.

  Now, having first carefully cut out reed sods in a place chosen byMartha, Foy and Martin set to their task of digging a great hole by thelight of the stars. Hard indeed they toiled at it, yet had it not beenfor the softness of the marshy soil, they could not have got done whilethe night lasted, for the grave that would contain those barrels mustbe both wide and deep. After three feet of earth had been removed, theycame to the level of the lake, and for the rest of the time worked inwater, throwing up shovelfuls of mud. Still at last it was done, andthe five barrels standing side by side in the water were covered up withsoil and roughly planted over with the reed turf.

  "Let us be going," said Martha. "There is no time to lose." So theystraightened their backs and wiped the sweat from their brows.

  "There is earth lying about, which may tell its story," said Martin.

  "Yes," she replied, "if any see it within the next ten days, after whichin this damp place the mosses will have hidden it."

  "Well, we have done our best," said Foy, as he washed his mud-stainedboots in the water, "and now the stuff must take its chance."

  Then once more they entered the boat and rowed away somewhat wearily,Martha steering them.

  On they went and on, till Foy, tired out, nearly fell asleep at his oar.Suddenly Martha tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up and there, nottwo hundred yards away, its tapering mast showing dimly against the sky,was the vessel that had pursued them from The Hague, a single lanternburning on its stern. Martha looked and grunted; then she leant forwardand whispered to them imperiously.

  "It is madness," gasped Martin.

  "Do as I bid you," she hissed, and they let the boat drift with thewind till it came to a little island within thirty yards of the anchoredvessel, an island with a willow tree growing upon its shore. "Hold tothe twigs of the tree," she muttered, "and wait till I come again." Notknowing what else to do, they obeyed.

  Then Martha rose and they saw that she had slipped off her garment ofskins, and stood before them, a gaunt white figure armed with a gleamingknife. Next she put the knife to her mouth, and, nipping it between herteeth, slid into the water silently as a diving bird. A minute passed,not more, and they saw that something was climbing up the cable of theship.

  "What is she going to do?" whispered Foy.

  "God in Heaven knows," answered Martin, "but if she does not come backgood-bye to Heer Brant's treasure, for she alone can find it again."

  They waited, holding their breaths, till presently a curious chokingsound floated to them, and the lantern on the ship vanished. Two minuteslater a hand with a knife in it appeared over the gunwale of the boat,followed by a grey head. Martin put out his great arm and lifted, and,lo! the white form slid down between them like a big salmon turned outof a net.

  "Put about and row," it gasped, and they obeyed while the Mare clothedherself again in her skin garment.

  "What have you done?" asked Foy.

  "Something," she replied with a fierce chuckle. "I have stabbed thewatchman--he thought I was a ghost, and was too frightened to call out.I have cut the cable, and I think that I have fired the ship. Ah! look!but row--row round the corner of the island."

  They gave way, and as they turned the bank of reeds glanced behind them,to see a tall tongue of fire shooting up the cordage of the ship, and tohear a babel of frightened and angry voices.

  Ten minutes later they were on board the _Swallow_, and from her deckwatching the fierce flare of the burning Spanish vessel nearly a mileaway. Here they ate and drank, for they needed food badly.

  "What shall we do now?" asked Foy when they had finished.

  "Nothing at present," answered Martha, "but give me pen and paper."

  They found them, and having shrouded the little window of the cabin,she sat at the table and very slowly but with much skill drew a plan, orrather a picture, of this portion of the Haarlem Mere. In that plan weremarked many islands according to their natural shapes, twenty of themperhaps, and upon one of these she set
a cross.

  "Take it and hide it," said Martha, when it was finished, "so that if Idie you may know where to dig for Brant's gold. With this in your handyou cannot fail to find it, for I draw well. Remember that it liesthirty paces due south of the only spot where it is easy to land uponthat island."

  "What shall I do with this picture which is worth so much?" said Foyhelplessly, "for in truth I fear to keep the thing."

  "Give it to me, master," said Martin; "the secret of the treasure mayas well lie with the legacy that is charged on it." Then once more heunscrewed the handle of the sword Silence, and having folded up thepaper and wrapped it round with a piece of linen, he thrust it away intothe hollow hilt.

  "Now that sword is worth more than some people might think," Martin saidas he restored it to the scabbard, "but I hope that those who come toseek its secret may have to travel up its blade. Well, when shall we bemoving?"

  "Listen," said Martha. "Would you two men dare a great deed upon thoseSpaniards? Their ship is burnt, but there are a score or over of them,and they have two large boats. Now at the dawn they will see the mastof this vessel and attack it in the boats thinking to find the treasure.Well, if as they win aboard we can manage to fire the matches----"

  "There may be fewer Spaniards left to plague us," suggested Foy.

  "And believing it to be blown up no one will trouble about that moneyfurther," added Martin. "Oh! the plan is good, but dangerous. Come, letus talk it over."