It was noon and past on the fatal twelfth of July. The gates were open,the Spaniards, those who were left alive of them, Don Frederic at theirhead, with drums beating, banners flying, and swords sharpened formurder, were marching into the city of Haarlem. In a deep niche betweentwo great brick piers of the cathedral were gathered four people whom weknow. War and famine had left them all alive, yet they had borne theirshare of both. In every enterprise, however desperate, Foy and Martinhad marched, or stood, or watched side by side, and well did theSpaniards know the weight of the great sword Silence and the red-headedgiant who wielded it. Mother Martha, too, had not been idle. Throughoutthe siege she had served as the lieutenant of the widow Hasselaer, whowith a band of three hundred women fought day and night alongsideof their husbands and brothers. Even Elsa, who although she was toodelicate and by nature timid and unfitted to go out to battle, had doneher part, for she laboured at the digging of mines and the building ofwalls till her soft hands were rough and scarred.
How changed they were. Foy, whose face had been so youthful, looked nowlike a man on the wrong side of middle age. The huge Martin might havebeen a great skeleton on which hung clothes, or rather rags and arent bull's hide, with his blue eyes shining in deep pits beneath themassive, projecting skull. Elsa too had become quite small, like achild. Her sweet face was no longer pretty, only pitiful, and all theroundness of her figure had vanished--she might have been an emaciatedboy. Of the four of them Martha the Mare, who was dressed like a man,showed the least change. Indeed, except that now her hair was snowy,that her features were rather more horse-like, that the yellow, liplessteeth projected even further, and the thin nervous hands had becomealmost like those of an Egyptian mummy, she was much as she always hadbeen.
Martin leaned upon the great sword and groaned. "Curses on them, thecowards," he muttered; "why did they not let us go out and die fighting?Fools, mad fools, who would trust to the mercy of the Spaniard."
"Oh! Foy," said Elsa, throwing her thin arms about his neck, "you willnot let them take me, will you? If it comes to the worst, you will killme, won't you? Otherwise I must kill myself, and Foy, I am a coward, Iam afraid--to do that."
"I suppose so," he answered in a harsh, unnatural voice, "but oh! God,if Thou art, have pity upon her. Oh! God have pity."
"Blaspheme not, doubt not!" broke in the shrill voice of Martha. "Hasit not been as I told you last winter in the boat? Have you not beenprotected, and shall you not be protected to the end? Only blasphemenot, doubt not!"
The niche in which they were standing was out of sight of the greatsquare and those who thronged it, but as Martha spoke a band ofvictorious Spaniards, seven or eight of them, came round the corner andcaught sight of the party in the nook.
"There's a girl," said the sergeant in command of them, "who isn't badlooking. Pull her out, men."
Some fellows stepped forward to do his bidding. Now Foy went mad. He didnot kill Elsa as she had prayed him, he flew straight at the throat ofthe brute who had spoken, and next instant his sword was standing outa foot behind his neck. Then after him, with a kind of low cry, cameMartin, plying the great blade Silence, and Martha after him with herlong knife. It was all over in a minute, but before it was done therewere five men down, three dead and two sore wounded.
"A tithe and an offering!" muttered Martha as, bounding forward, shebent over the wounded men, and their comrades fled round the corner ofthe cathedral.
There was a minute's pause. The bright summer sunlight shone upon thefaces and armour of the dead Spaniards, upon the naked sword of Foy,who stood over Elsa crouched to the ground in a corner of the niche, herface hidden in her hands, upon the terrible blue eyes of Martin alightwith a dreadful fire of rage. Then there came the sound of marchingmen, and a company of Spaniards appeared before them, and at theirhead--Ramiro and Adrian called van Goorl.
"There they are, captain," said a soldier, one of those who had fled;"shall we shoot them?"
Ramiro looked, carelessly enough at first, then again a long,scrutinising look. So he had caught them at last! Months ago he hadlearned that Elsa had been rescued from the Red Mill by Foy and Martin,and now, after much seeking, the birds were in his net.
"No," he said, "I think not. Such desperate characters must be reservedfor separate trial."
"Where can they be kept, captain?" asked the sergeant sulkily.
"I observed, friend, that the house which my son and I have taken asour quarters has excellent cellars; they can be imprisoned there for thepresent--that is, except the young lady, whom the Senor Adrian will lookafter. As it chances, she is his wife."
At this the soldiers laughed openly.
"I repeat--his wife, for whom he has been searching these many months,"said Ramiro, "and, therefore, to be respected. Do you understand, men?"
Apparently they did understand, at least no one made any answer. Theircaptain, as they had found, was not a man who loved argument.
"Now, then, you fellows," went on Ramiro, "give up your arms."
Martin thought a while. Evidently he was wondering whether it would notbe best to rush at them and die fighting. At that moment, as he saidafterwards indeed, the old saying came into his mind, "A game is notlost until it is won," and remembering that dead men can never haveanother chance of winning games, he gave up the sword.
"Hand that to me," said Ramiro. "It is a curious weapon to which I havetaken a fancy."
So sword Silence was handed to him, and he slung it over his shoulder.Foy looked at the kneeling Elsa, and he looked at his sword. Then anidea struck him, and he looked at the face of Adrian, his brother, whomhe had last seen when the said Adrian ran to warn him and Martin at thefactory, for though he knew that he was fighting with his father amongthe Spaniards, during the siege they had never met. Even then, inthat dire extremity, with a sudden flash of thought he wondered howit happened that Adrian, being the villain that he was, had taken thetrouble to come and warn them yonder in Leyden, thereby giving them timeto make a very good defence in the shot tower.
Foy looked up at his brother. Adrian was dressed in the uniform of aSpanish officer, with a breast-plate over his quilted doublet, and asteel cap, from the front of which rose a frayed and weather-worn plumeof feathers. The face had changed; there was none of the old pomposityabout those handsome features; it looked worn and cowed, like that of ananimal which has been trained to do tricks by hunger and the use of thewhip. Yet, through all the shame and degradation, Foy seemed to catchthe glint of some kind of light, a light of good desire shining behindthat piteous mask, as the sun sometimes shines through a sullen cloud.Could it be that Adrian was not quite so bad after all? That he was,in fact, the Adrian that he, Foy, had always believed him to be, vain,silly, passionate, exaggerated, born to be a tool and think himselfthe master, but beneath everything, well-meaning? Who could say? At theworst, too, was it not better that Elsa should become the wife of Adrianthan that her life should cease there and then, and by her lover's hand?
These things passed through his brain as the lightning passes throughthe sky. In an instant his mind was made up and Foy flung down his swordat the feet of a soldier. As he did so his eyes met the eyes of Adrian,and to his imagination they seemed to be full of thanks and promise.
They took them all; with gibes and blows the soldiers haled them awaythrough the tumult and the agony of the fallen town and its doomeddefenders. Out of the rich sunlight they led them into a house thatstill stood not greatly harmed by the cannon-shot, but a little wayfrom the shattered Ravelin and the gate which had been the scene of suchfearful conflict--a house that was the home of one of the wealthiestmerchants in Haarlem. Here Foy and Elsa were parted. She struggled tohis arms, whence they tore her and dragged her away up the stairs, butMartin, Martha and Foy were thrust into a dark cellar, locked in andleft.
A while later the door of the cellar was unbarred and some hand, theycould not see whose, passed through it water and food, good food such asthey had not tasted for months; meat and bread and dried
herrings, morethan they could eat of them.
"Perhaps it is poisoned," said Foy, smelling at it hungrily.
"What need to take the trouble to poison us?" answered Martin. "Let useat and drink, for to-morrow we die."
So like starving animals they devoured the food with thankfulness andthen they slept, yes, in the midst of all their misery and doubts theyslept.
It seemed but a few minutes later--in fact it was eight hours--when thedoor opened again and there entered Adrian carrying a lantern in hishand.
"Foy, Martin," he said, "get up and follow me if you would save yourlives."
Instantly they were wide awake.
"Follow you--_you?_" stammered Foy in a choked voice.
"Yes," Adrian answered quietly. "Of course you may not escape, but ifyou stop here what chance have you? Ramiro, my father, will be backpresently and then----"
"It is madness to trust ourselves to you," interrupted Martin, andAdrian seemed to wince at the contempt in his voice.
"I knew that you would think that," he answered humbly, "but what elseis to be done? I can pass you out of the city, I have made a boat readyfor you to escape in, all at the risk of my own life; what more can Ido? Why do you hesitate?"
"Because we do not believe you," said Foy; "besides, there is Elsa. Iwill not go without Elsa."
"I have thought of that," answered Adrian. "Elsa is here. Come, Elsa,show yourself."
Then from the stairs Elsa crept into the cellar, a new Elsa, for she,too, had been fed, and in her eyes there shone a light of hope. A wildjealousy filled Foy's heart. Why did she look thus? But she, she ran tohim, she flung her arms about his neck and kissed him, and Adrian didnothing, he only turned his head aside.
"Foy," she gasped, "he is honest after all; he has only beenunfortunate. Come quickly, there is a chance for us; come before thatdevil returns. Now he is at a council of the officers settling with DonFrederic who are to be killed, but soon he will be back, and then----"
So they hesitated no more, but went.
They passed out of the house, none stopping them--the guard had gone tothe sack. At the gate by the ruined Ravelin there stood a sentry, butthe man was careless, or drunken, or bribed, who knows? At least, Adriangave him a pass-word, and, nodding his head, he let them by. A fewminutes later they were at the Mere side, and there among some reeds laythe boat.
"Enter and be gone," said Adrian.
They scrambled into the boat and took the oars, while Martha began topush off.
"Adrian," said Elsa, "what is to become of you?"
"Why do you trouble about that?" he asked with a bitter laugh. "I goback to my death, my blood is the price of your freedom. Well, I owe itto you."
"Oh! no," she cried, "come with us."
"Yes," echoed Foy, although again that bitter pang of jealousy grippedhis heart, "come with us--brother."
"Do you really mean it?" Adrian asked, hesitating. "Think, I mightbetray you."
"If so, young man, why did you not do it before?" growled Martin, andstretching out his great, bony arm he gripped him by the collar anddragged him into the boat.
Then they rowed away.
"Where are we going?" asked Martin.
"To Leyden, I suppose," said Foy, "if we can get there, which, without asail or weapons, seems unlikely."
"I have put some arms in the boat," interrupted Adrian, "the best Icould get," and from a locker he drew out a common heavy axe, a coupleof Spanish swords, a knife, a smaller axe, a cross-bow and some bolts.
"Not so bad," said Martin, rowing with his left hand as he handled thebig axe with his right, "but I wish that I had my sword Silence, whichthat accursed Ramiro took from me and hung about his neck. I wonderwhy he troubled himself with the thing? It is too long for a man of hisinches."
"I don't know," said Adrian, "but when last I saw him he was workingat its hilt with a chisel, which seemed strange. He always wanted thatsword. During the siege he offered a large reward to any soldier whocould kill you and bring it to him."
"Working at the hilt with a chisel?" gasped Martin. "By Heaven, I hadforgotten! The map, the map! Some wicked villain must have told him thatthe map of the treasure was there--that is why he wanted the sword."
"Who could have told him?" asked Foy. "It was only known to you andme and Martha, and we are not of the sort to tell. What? Give away thesecret of Hendrik Brant's treasure which he could die for and we weresworn to keep, to save our miserable lives? Shame upon the thought!"
Martha heard, and looked at Elsa, a questioning look beneath which thepoor girl turned a fiery red, though by good fortune in that light nonecould see her blushes. Still, she must speak lest the suspicion shouldlie on others.
"I ought to have told you before," she said in a low voice, "but Iforgot--I mean that I have always been so dreadfully ashamed. It was Iwho betrayed the secret of the sword Silence."
"You? How did you know it?" asked Foy.
"Mother Martha told me on the night of the church burning after youescaped from Leyden."
Martin grunted. "One woman to trust another, and at her age too; what afool!"
"Fool yourself, you thick-brained Frisian," broke in Martha angrily,"where did you learn to teach your betters wisdom? I told the Jufvrouwbecause I knew that we might all of us be swept away, and I thought itwell that then she should know where to look for a key to the treasure."
"A woman's kind of reason," answered Martin imperturbably, "and a badone at that, for if we had been finished off she must have found itdifficult to get hold of the sword. But all this is done with. The pointis, why did the Jufvrouw tell Ramiro?"
"Because I am a coward," answered Elsa with a sob. "You know, Foy, Ialways was a coward, and I never shall be anything else. I told him tosave myself."
"From what?"
"From being married."
Adrian winced palpably, and Foy, noting it, could not resist pushing thepoint.
"From being married? But I understand--doubtless Adrian will explain thething," he added grimly--"that you were forced through some ceremony."
"Yes," answered Elsa feebly, "I--I--was. I tried to buy myself off bytelling Ramiro the secret, which will show you all how mad I was withterror at the thought of this hateful marriage"--here a groan burstfrom the lips of Adrian, and something like a chuckle from those of RedMartin. "Oh! I am so sorry," went on Elsa in confusion; "I am sure thatI did not wish to hurt Adrian's feelings, especially after he has beenso good to us."
"Never mind Adrian's feelings and his goodness, but go on with thestory," interrupted Foy.
"There isn't much more to tell. Ramiro swore before God that if I gavehim the clue he would let me go, and then--then, well, then, after Ihad fallen into the pit and disgraced myself, he said that it was notsufficient, and that the marriage must take place."
At this point Foy and Martin laughed outright. Yes, even there theylaughed.
"Why, you silly child," said Foy, "what else did you expect him to say?"
"Oh! Martin, do you forgive me?" said Elsa. "Immediately after I haddone it I knew how shameful it was, and that he would try to hunt youdown, and that is why I have been afraid to tell you ever since. But Ipray you believe me; I only spoke because, between shame and fear, I didnot know right from wrong. Do you forgive me?"
"Lady," answered the Frisian, smiling in his slow fashion, "if I hadbeen there unknown to Ramiro, and you had offered him this head of mineon a dish as a bribe, not only would I have forgiven you but I wouldhave said that you did right. You are a maid, and you had to protectyourself from a very dreadful thing; therefore who can blame you?"
"I can," said Martha. "Ramiro might have torn me to pieces with red-hotpincers before I told him."
"Yes," said Martin, who felt that he had a debt to pay, "Ramiro might,but I doubt whether he would have gone to that trouble to persuade youto take a husband. No, don't be angry. 'Frisian thick of head, Frisianfree of speech,' goes the saying."
Not being able to think of any appropriate rejo
inder, Martha turnedagain upon Elsa.
"Your father died for that treasure," she said, "and Dirk van Goorl diedfor it, and your lover and his serving-man there went to the torture-denfor it, and I--well, I have done a thing or two. But you, girl, why, atthe first pinch, you betray the secret. But, as Martin says, I was foolenough to tell you."
"Oh! you are hard," said Elsa, beginning to weep under Martha's bitterreproaches; "but you forget that at least none of you were asked tomarry--oh! I mustn't say that. I mean to become the wife of one man;"then her eyes fell upon Foy and an inspiration seized her; here, atleast, was one of whom she could make a friend--"when you happen to bevery much in love with another."
"Of course not," said Foy, "there is no need for you to explain."
"I think there is a great deal to explain," went on Martha, "for youcannot fool me with pretty words. But now, hark you, Foy van Goorl, whatis to be done? We have striven hard to save that treasure, all of us; isit to be lost at the last?"
"Aye," echoed Martin, growing very serious, "is it to be lost at thelast? Remember what the worshipful Hendrik Brant said to us yonderon that night at The Hague--that he believed that in a day to comethousands and tens of thousands of our people would bless the gold heentrusted to us."
"I remember it all," answered Foy, "and other things too; his will, forinstance," and he thought of his father and of those hours which Martinand he had spent in the Gevangenhuis. Then he looked up at Martha andsaid briefly: "Mother, though they call you mad, you are the wisestamong us; what is your counsel?"
She pondered awhile and answered: "This is certain, that so soon asRamiro finds that we have escaped, having the key to it, he will takeboat and sail to the place where the barrels are buried, knowing wellthat otherwise we shall be off with them. Yes, I tell you that by dawn,or within an hour of it, he will be there," and she stopped.
"You mean," said Foy, "that we ought to be there before him."
Martha nodded and answered, "If we can, but I think that at best theremust be a fight for it."
"Yes," said Martin, "a fight. Well, I should like another fight withRamiro. That fork-tongued adder has got my sword, and I want to get itback again."
"Oh!" broke in Elsa, "is there to be more fighting? I hoped that at lastwe were safe, and going straight to Leyden, where the Prince is. I hatethis bloodshed; I tell you, Foy, it frightens me to death; I believethat I shall die of it."
"You hear what she says?" asked Foy.
"We hear," answered Martha. "Take no heed of her, the child has sufferedmuch, she is weak and squeamish. Now I, although I believe that my deathlies before me, I say, go on and fear not."
"But I do take heed," said Foy. "Not for all the treasures in the worldshall Elsa be put in danger again if she does not wish it; she shalldecide, and she alone."
"How good you are to me," she murmured, then she mused a moment. "Foy,"she said, "will you promise something to me?"
"After your experience of Ramiro's oaths I wonder that you ask," heanswered, trying to be cheerful.
"Will you promise," she went on, taking no note, "that if I say yes andwe go, not to Leyden, but to seek the treasure, and live through it,that you will take me away from this land of bloodshed and murder andtorments, to some country where folk may live at peace, and see no onekilled, except it be now and again an evil-doer? It is much to ask, butoh! Foy, will you promise?"
"Yes, I promise," said Foy, for he, too, was weary of this daily terror.Who would not have been that had passed through the siege of Haarlem?
Foy was steering, but now Martha slipped aft and took the tiller fromhis hand. For a moment she studied the stars that grew clearer in thelight of the sinking moon, then shifted the helm a point or two to portand sat still.
"I am hungry again," said Martin presently; "I feel as though I couldeat for a week without stopping."
Adrian looked up from over his oar, at which he was labouringdejectedly, and said:
"There are food and wine in the locker. I hid them there. Perhaps Elsacould serve them to those who wish to eat."
So Elsa, who was doing nothing, found the drink and victuals, and handedthem round to the rowers, who ate and drank as best they might with athankful heart, but without ceasing from their task. To men who havestarved for months the taste of wholesome provender and sound wine is adelight that cannot be written in words.
When at length they had filled themselves, Adrian spoke.
"If it is your good will, brother," he said, addressing Foy, "as we donot know what lies in front, nor how long any of us have to live, I, whoam an outcast and a scorn among you, wish to tell you a story."
"Speak on," said Foy.
So Adrian began from the beginning, and told them all his tale. He toldthem how at the first he had been led astray by superstitions, vanity,and love; how his foolish confidences had been written down by spies;how he had been startled and terrified into signing them with resultsof which they knew. Then he told them how he was hunted like a mad dogthrough the streets of Leyden after his mother had turned him from herdoor; how he took refuge in the den of Hague Simon, and there had foughtwith Ramiro and been conquered by the man's address and his own horrorof shedding a father's blood. He told them of his admission intothe Roman faith, of the dreadful scene in the church when Martha haddenounced him, of their flight to the Red Mill. He told them of thekidnapping of Elsa, and how he had been quite innocent of it althoughhe loved her dearly; of how at last he was driven into marrying her,meaning her no harm, to save her from the grip of Ramiro, and knowing atheart that it was no marriage; of how, when the flood burst upon them,he had been hustled from the mill where, since she could no longer be ofservice to him and might work him injury, as he discovered afterwards,Ramiro had left Elsa to her fate. Lastly, in a broken voice, he toldthem of his life during the long siege which, so he said, was as thelife of a damned spirit, and of how, when death thinned the ranks of theSpaniards, he had been made an officer among them, and by the specialmalice of Ramiro forced to conduct the executions and murders of suchHollanders as they took.
Then at last his chance had come. Ramiro, thinking that now he couldnever turn against him, had given him Elsa, and left him with her whilehe went about his duties and to secure a share of the plunder, meaningto deal with his prisoners on the morrow. So he, Adrian, a man inauthority, had provided the boat and freed them. That was all he had tosay, except to renounce any claim upon her who was called his wife, andto beg their forgiveness.
Foy listened to the end. Then, dropping his oar for a moment, he put hisarm about Adrian's waist and hugged him, saying in his old cheery voice:
"I was right after all. You know, Adrian, I always stood up for you,notwithstanding your temper and queer ways. No, I never would believethat you were a villain, but neither could I ever have believed that youwere quite such an ass."
To this outspoken estimate of his character, so fallen and crushed washe, his brother had not the spirit to reply. He could merely tug at hisoar and groan, while the tears of shame and repentance ran down his paleand handsome face.
"Never mind, old fellow," said Foy consolingly. "It all went wrong,thanks to you, and thanks to you I believe that it will all come rightagain. So we will cry quits and forget the rest."
Poor Adrian glanced up at Foy and at Elsa sitting on the thwart of theboat by his side.
"Yes, brother," he answered, "for you and Elsa it may come right,but not for me in this world, for I--I have sold myself to the deviland--got no pay."
After that for a while no one spoke; all felt that the situation wastoo tragic for speech; even the follies, and indeed the wickedness, ofAdrian were covered up, were blotted out in the tragedy of his utterfailure, yes, and redeemed by the depth of his atonement.