The Cloister and the Hearth: A Tale of the Middle Ages

  CHAPTER X

  THE banns of marriage had to be read three times, as in our days; withthis difference, that they were commonly read on week-days, and theyoung couple easily persuaded the cure to do the three readings intwenty-four hours: he was new to the place, and their looks spokevolumes in their favour. They were cried on Monday at matins and atvespers; and, to their great delight, nobody from Tergou was in thechurch. The next morning they were both there palpitating with anxiety,when, to their horror, a stranger stood up and forbade the banns, on thescore that the parties were not of age, and their parents notconsenting.

  Outside the church door, Margaret and Gerard held a trembling and almostdespairing consultation; but, before they could settle anything, the manwho had done them so ill a turn approached, and gave them to understandthat he was very sorry to interfere; that his inclination was to furtherthe happiness of the young: but that in point of fact his only means ofgetting a living was by forbidding banns: what then? "The young peoplegive me a crown, and I undo my work handsomely; tell the cure I wasmisinformed; and all goes smoothly."

  "A crown? I will give you a golden angel to do this," said Gerard,eagerly. The man consented as eagerly, and went with Gerard to the cure,and told him he had made a ridiculous mistake, which a sight of theparties had rectified. On this the cure agreed to marry the young couplenext day at ten: and the professional obstructor of bliss went home withGerard's angel. Like most of these very clever knaves, he was a fool,and proceeded to drink his angel at a certain hostelry in Tergou, wherewas a green devoted to archery and the common sports of the day. There,being drunk, he bragged of his day's exploit; and who should be there,imbibing every word, but a great frequenter of the spot, thene'er-do-weel Sybrandt. Sybrandt ran home to tell his father; his fatherwas not at home; he was gone to Rotterdam to buy cloth of the merchants.Catching his elder brother's eye, he made him a signal to come out, andtold him what he had heard.

  There are black sheep in nearly every large family: and these two wereGerard's black brothers. Idleness is vitiating: waiting for the death ofthose we ought to love is vitiating: and these two one-idead curs wereready to tear any one to death who should interfere with that miserableinheritance, which was their thought by day and their dream by night.Their parents' parsimony was a virtue; it was accompanied by industry,and its motive was love of their offspring: but in these perverse andselfish hearts that homely virtue was perverted into avarice, than whichno more fruitful source of crimes is to be found in nature.

  They put their heads together, and agreed not to tell their mother,whose sentiments were so uncertain, but to go first to the burgomaster.They were cunning enough to see that he was averse to the match, thoughthey could not divine why.

  Ghysbrecht Van Swieten saw through them at once; but he took care not tolet them see through him. He heard their story; and putting onmagisterial dignity and coldness, he said:

  "Since the father of the family is not here, his duty falleth on me, whoam the father of the town. I know your father's mind; leave all to me:and above all, tell not a woman a word of this, least of all the womenthat are in your own house: for chattering tongues mar wisest counsels."

  So he dismissed them a little superciliously: he was ashamed of hisconfederates.

  On their return home they found their brother Gerard seated on a lowstool at their mother's knee: she was caressing his hair with her hand,speaking very kindly to him, and promising to take his part with hisfather and thwart his love no more. The main cause of this change ofmind was characteristic of the woman. She it was who in a moment offemale irritation had cut Margaret's picture to pieces. She had watchedthe effect with some misgivings, and had seen Gerard turn pale as death,and sit motionless like a bereaved creature, with the pieces in hishands, and his eyes fixed on them till tears came and blinded them. Thenshe was terrified at what she had done; and next her heart smote herbitterly; and she wept sore apart: but, being what she was, dared notown it, but said to herself, "I'll not say a word, but I'll make it upto him." And her bowels yearned over her son, and her feeble violencedied a natural death, and she was transferring her fatal alliance toGerard when the two black sheep came in. Gerard knew nothing of theimmediate cause; on the contrary, inexperienced as he was in the ins andouts of females, her kindness made him ashamed of a suspicion he hadentertained that she was the depredator; and he kissed her again andagain, and went to bed happy as a prince to think his mother was hismother once more at the very crisis of his fate.

  * * * * *

  The next morning, at ten o'clock, Gerard and Margaret were in the churchat Sevenbergen, he radiant with joy, she with blushes. Peter was alsothere, and Martin Wittenhaagen, but no other friend. Secrecy waseverything. Margaret had declined Italy. She could not leave her father;he was too learned and too helpless. But it was settled they shouldretire into Flanders for a few weeks until the storm should be blownover at Tergou. The cure did not keep them waiting long, though itseemed an age. Presently he stood at the altar, and called them to him.They went hand in hand, the happiest in Holland. The cure opened hisbook.

  But ere he uttered a single word of the sacred rite, a harsh voice cried"Forbear!" And the constables of Tergou came up the aisle and seizedGerard in the name of the law. Martin's long knife flashed out directly.

  "Forbear, man!" cried the priest, "What! draw your weapon in a church,and ye who interrupt this holy sacrament, what means this impiety?"

  "There is no impiety," said the burgomaster's servant respectfully."This young man would marry against his father's will, and his fatherhas prayed our burgomaster to deal with him according to the law. Lethim deny it if he can."

  "Is this so, young man?"

  Gerard hung his head.

  "We take him to Rotterdam to abide the sentence of the duke."

  At this Margaret uttered a cry of despair, and the young creatures, whowere so happy a moment ago, fell to sobbing in one another's arms sopiteously, that the instruments of oppression drew back a step, and wereashamed; but one of them that was good-natured stepped up under pretenceof separating them, and whispered to Margaret:

  "Rotterdam? it is a lie. We but take him to our Stadthouse."

  They took him away on horseback, on the road to Rotterdam; and, after adozen halts, and by sly detours, to Tergou. Just outside the town theywere met by a rude vehicle covered with canvas. Gerard was put intothis, and about five in the evening was secretly conveyed into theprison of the Stadthouse. He was taken up several flights of stairs andthrust into a small room lighted only by a narrow window, with avertical iron bar. The whole furniture was a huge oak chest.

  Imprisonment in that age was one of the highroads to death. It ishorrible in its mildest form; but in those days it implied cold,unbroken solitude, torture, starvation, and often poison. Gerard felt hewas in the hands of an enemy.

  "Oh, the look that man gave me on the road to Rotterdam. There is morehere than my father's wrath. I doubt I shall see no more the light ofday." And he kneeled down and commended his soul to God.

  Presently he rose and sprang at the iron bar of the window and clutchedit. This enabled him to look out by pressing his knees against the wall.It was but for a minute; but in that minute, he saw a sight such as nonebut a captive can appreciate.

  Martin Wittenhaagen's back.

  Martin was sitting, quietly fishing in the brook near the Stadthouse.

  Gerard sprang again at the window, and whistled. Martin instantly showedthat he was watching much harder than fishing. He turned hastily roundand saw Gerard;--made him a signal, and taking up his line and bow wentquickly off.

  Gerard saw by this that his friends were not idle: yet he had ratherMartin had stayed. The very sight of him was a comfort. He held on,looking at the soldier's retiring form as long as he could, then fallingback somewhat heavily, wrenched the rusty iron bar, held only by rustynails, away from the stone-work just as Ghysbrecht Van Swieten openedthe door stealthily behind him. The burgomaster's eye fe
ll instantly onthe iron, and then glanced at the window; but he said nothing. Thewindow was a hundred feet from the ground; and if Gerard had a fancy forjumping out, why should he balk it? He brought a brown loaf and apitcher of water, and set them on the chest in solemn silence. Gerard'sfirst impulse was to brain him with the iron bar, and fly down thestairs; but the burgomaster seeing something wicked in his eye, gave alittle cough, and three stout fellows, armed, showed themselves directlyat the door.

  "My orders are to keep you thus until you shall bind yourself by an oathto leave Margaret Brandt, and return to the Church to which you havebelonged from your cradle."

  "Death sooner."

  "With all my heart." And the burgomaster retired.

  * * * * *

  Martin went with all speed to Sevenbergen; there he found Margaret paleand agitated, but full of resolution and energy. She was just finishinga letter to the Countess Charolois, appealing to her against theviolence and treachery of Ghysbrecht.

  "Courage!" cried Martin on entering. "I have found him. He is in thehaunted tower; right at the top of it. Ay! I know the place: many a poorfellow has gone up there straight, and come down feet foremost."

  He then told them how he had looked up and seen Gerard's face at awindow that was like a slit in the wall.

  "Oh Martin! how did he look?"

  "What mean you? He looked like Gerard Eliassoen."

  "But was he pale?"

  "A little."

  "Looked he anxious? Looked he like one doomed?"

  "Nay, nay; as bright as a pewter pot."

  "You mock me. Stay! then that must have been at sight of you. He countson us. Oh! what shall we do? Martin, good friend, take this at once toRotterdam."

  Martin held out his hand for the letter.

  Peter had sat silent all this time, but pondering, and yet contrary tocustom, keenly attentive to what was going on around him.

  "Put not your trust in princes," said he.

  "Alas! what else have we to trust in?"

  "Knowledge."

  "Well-a-day, father! your learning will not serve us here."

  "How know you that? Wit has been too strong for iron bars ere to-day."

  "Ay, father; but nature is stronger than wit, and she is against us.Think of the height! No ladder in Holland might reach him."

  "I need no ladder; what I need is a gold crown."

  "Nay. I have money for that matter. I have nine angels. Gerard gave themme to keep; but what do they avail? The burgomaster will not be bribedto let Gerard free."

  "What do they avail? Give me but one crown, and the young man shall supwith us this night."

  Peter spoke so eagerly and confidently, that for a moment Margaret felthopeful; but she caught Martin's eye dwelling upon him with anexpression of benevolent contempt.

  "It passes the powers of man's invention," said she, with a deep sigh.

  "Invention?" cried the old man. "A fig for invention. What need weinvention at this time of day? Everything has been said that is to besaid and done that ever will be done. I shall tell you how a Florentineknight was shut up in a tower higher than Gerard's: yet did his faithfulsquire stand at the tower foot and get him out, with no other enginethan that in your hand, Martin, and certain kickshaws I shall buy for acrown."

  Martin looked at his bow, and turned it round in his hand; and seemed tointerrogate it. But the examination left him as incredulous as before.

  Then Peter told them his story, how the faithful squire got the knightout of a high tower at Brescia. The manoeuvre, like most things thatare really scientific, was so simple, that now their wonder was they hadtaken for impossible what was not even difficult.

  The letter never went to Rotterdam. They trusted to Peter's learning andtheir own dexterity.

  It was nine o'clock on a clear moonlight night; Gerard, senior, wasstill away; the rest of his little family had been sometime abed.

  A figure stood by the dwarf's bed. It was white, and the moonlight shoneon it.

  With an unearthly noise, between a yell and a snarl, the gymnast rolledoff his bed and under it by a single unbroken movement. A soft voicefollowed him in his retreat.

  "Why, Giles, are you afeard of me?"

  At this, Giles's head peeped cautiously up, and he saw it was only hissister Kate.

  She put her finger to her lips. "Hush! lest the wicked Cornelis or thewicked Sybrandt hear us." Giles's claws seized the side of the bed, andhe returned to his place by one undivided gymnastic.

  Kate then revealed to Giles that she had heard Cornelis and Sybrandtmention Gerard's name; and being herself in great anxiety at his notcoming home all day, had listened at their door, and had made a fearfuldiscovery. Gerard was in prison, in the haunted tower of the Stadthouse.He was there it seemed by their father's authority. But here must besome treachery; for how could their father have ordered this cruel act?he was at Rotterdam. She ended by entreating Giles to bear her companyto the foot of the haunted tower, to say a word of comfort to poorGerard, and let him know their father was absent, and would be sure torelease him on his return.

  "Dear Giles, I would go alone, but I am afeard of the spirits that mensay do haunt the tower: but with you I shall not be afeard."

  "Nor I with you," said Giles. "I don't believe there are any spirits inTergou. I never saw one. This last was the likest one ever I saw; and itwas but you, Kate, after all."

  In less than half an hour Giles and Kate opened the house doorcautiously and issued forth. She made him carry a lantern though thenight was bright. "The lantern gives me more courage against the evilspirits," said she.

  * * * * *

  The first day of imprisonment is very trying, especially if to thehorror of captivity is added the horror of utter solitude. I observethat in our own day a great many persons commit suicide during the firsttwenty-four hours of the solitary cell. This is doubtless why our Jairiabstain so carefully from the impertinence of watching their littleexperiment upon the human soul at that particular stage of it.

  As the sun declined, Gerard's heart too sank and sank: with the waninglight even the embers of hope went out. He was faint, too, with hunger;for he was afraid to eat the food Ghysbrecht had brought him; and hungeralone cows men. He sat upon the chest, his arms and his head droopingbefore him, a picture of despondency. Suddenly something struck the wallbeyond him very sharply, and then rattled on the floor at his feet. Itwas an arrow; he saw the white feather. A chill ran through him--theymeant then to assassinate him from the outside. He crouched. No moremissiles came. He crawled on all fours, and took up the arrow: there wasno head to it. He uttered a cry of hope: had a friendly hand shot it? Hetook it up, and felt it all over: he found a soft substance attached toit. Then one of his eccentricities was of grand use to him. Histinder-box enabled him to strike a light: it showed him two things thatmade his heart bound with delight, none the less thrilling for beingsomewhat vague. Attached to the arrow was a skein of silk; and on thearrow itself were words written.

  How his eyes devoured them, his heart panting the while!

  Well beloved, make fast the silk to thy knife and lower to us: but hold thine end fast: then count an hundred and draw up.

  Gerard seized the oak chest and with almost superhuman energy dragged itto the window: a moment ago he could not have moved it. Standing on thechest and looking down he saw figures at the tower foot. They were soindistinct they looked like one huge form. He waved his bonnet to themwith trembling hand: then he undid the silk rapidly but carefully, andmade one end fast to his knife and lowered it till it ceased to draw.Then he counted a hundred. Then pulled the silk carefully up: it came upa little heavier. At last he came to a large knot, and by that knot astout whipcord was attached to the silk. What could this mean? While hewas puzzling himself, Margaret's voice came up to him, low but clear."Draw up, Gerard, till you see Liberty." At the word Gerard drew thewhipcord line up, and drew and drew till he came to another knot, a
ndfound a cord of some thickness take the place of the whipcord. He had nosooner begun to draw this up than he found that he had now a heavyweight to deal with. Then the truth suddenly flashed on him, and he wentto work and pulled and pulled till the perspiration rolled down him: theweight got heavier and heavier, and at last he was well nigh exhausted;looking down he saw in the moonlight a sight that revived him: it was asit were a great snake coming up to him out of the deep shadow cast bythe tower. He gave a shout of joy, and a score more wild pulls, and lo!a stout new rope touched his hand: he hauled and hauled, and dragged theend into his prison and instantly passed it through both handles of thechest in succession, and knotted it firmly; then sat for moment torecover his breath and collect his courage. The first thing was to makesure that the chest was sound, and capable of resisting his weightpoised in mid air. He jumped with all his force upon it. At the thirdjump the whole side burst open, and out scuttled the contents, a host ofparchments.

  NOT MORE THAN THIRTY FEET BELOW HIM WERE MARGARET ANDMARTIN]

  After the first start and misgiving this gave him, Gerard comprehendedthat the chest had not burst but opened: he had doubtless jumped uponsome secret spring. Still it shook in some degree his confidence in thechest's powers of resistance; so he gave it an ally: he took the ironbar and fastened it with the small rope across the large rope, andacross the window. He now mounted the chest, and from the chest put hisfoot through the window, and sat half in and half out, with one hand onthat part of the rope which was inside. In the silent night he heard hisown heart beat.

  The free air breathed on his face, and gave him the courage to risk whatwe must all lose one day--for liberty. Many dangers awaited him, butthe greatest was the first getting on to the rope outside. Gerardreflected. Finally he put himself in the attitude of a swimmer, his bodyto the waist being in the prison, his legs outside. Then holding theinside rope with both hands, he felt anxiously with his feet for theoutside rope, and when he had got it, he worked it in between the palmsof his feet, and kept it there tight: then he uttered a short prayer,and all the calmer for it, put his left hand on the sill and graduallywriggled out. Then he seized the iron bar, and for one fearful momenthung outside from it by his right hand, while his left hand felt for therope down at his knees; it was too tight against the wall for hisfingers to get round it higher up. The moment he had fairly grasped it,he left the bar, and swiftly seized the rope with the right hand too;but in this manoeuvre his body necessarily fell about a yard. Astifled cry came up from below. Gerard hung in mid air. He clenched histeeth and nipped the rope tight with his feet and gripped it with hishands, and went down slowly hand below hand. He passed by one huge roughstone after another. He saw there was green moss on one. He looked upand he looked down. The moon shone into his prison window: it seemedvery near. The fluttering figures below seemed an awful distance. Itmade him dizzy to look down: so he fixed his eyes steadily on the wallclose to him, and went slowly down, down, down.

  He passed a rusty, slimy, streak on the wall: it was some ten feet long.The rope made his hands very hot. He stole another look up.

  The prison window was a good way off, now.

  Down--down--down--down.

  The rope made his hands sore.

  He looked up. The window was so distant, he ventured now to turn hiseyes downward again: and there, not more than thirty feet below him wereMargaret and Martin, their faithful hands upstretched to catch himshould he fall. He could see their eyes and their teeth shine in themoon light. For their mouths were open, and they were breathing hard.

  "Take care, Gerard! Oh take care! Look not down."

  "Fear me not," cried Gerard, joyfully, and eyed the wall, but came downfaster.

  In another moment his feet were at their hands. They seized him ere hetouched the ground, and all three clung together in one embrace.

  "Hush! away in silence, dear one."

  They stole along the shadow of the wall.

  Now, ere they had gone many yards, suddenly a stream of light shot froman angle of the building, and lay across their path like a barrier offire, and they heard whispers and footsteps close at hand.

  "Back!" hissed Martin. "Keep in the shade."

  They hurried back, passed the dangling rope, and made for a littlesquare projecting tower. They had barely rounded it when the light shottrembling past them, and flickered uncertainly into the distance.

  "A lantern!" groaned Martin, in a whisper. "They are after us."

  "Give me my knife," whispered Gerard. "I'll never be taken alive."

  "No, no!" murmured Margaret: "is there no way out where we are?"

  "None, none. But I carry six lives at my shoulder:" and, with the word,Martin strung his bow, and fitted an arrow to the string: "in war neverwait to be struck: I will kill one or two ere they shall know wheretheir death comes from:" then motioning his companions to be quiet, hebegan to draw his bow, and, ere the arrow was quite drawn to the head,he glided round the corner ready to loose the string the moment theenemy should offer a mark.

  Gerard and Margaret held their breath in horrible expectation: they hadnever seen a human being killed.

  * * * * *

  And now a wild hope, but half repressed, thrilled through Gerard, thatthis watchful enemy might be the burgomaster in person. The soldier, heknew, would send an arrow through a burgher or burgomaster as he wouldthrough a boar in a wood.

  But who may foretell the future, however near? The bow, instead ofremaining firm, and loosing the deadly shaft, was seen to waver first,then shake violently, and the stout soldier staggered back to them, hisknees knocking and his cheeks blanched with fear. He let his arrow fall,and clutched Gerard's shoulder.

  "Let me feel flesh and blood," he gasped; "the haunted tower! thehaunted tower!"

  His terror communicated itself to Margaret and Gerard. They gasped,rather than uttered, an inquiry.

  "Hush!" he cried, "it will hear you. _Up_ the wall! it is going _up_ thewall! Its head is on fire. _Up_ the wall, as mortal creatures walk upongreen sward. If you know a prayer say it! For hell is loose to-night."

  "I have power to exorcise spirits," said Gerard, trembling. "I willventure forth."

  "Go alone, then!" said Martin. "I have looked on't once and live."