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

  CHAPTER V

  GHYSBRECHT VAN SWIETEN was an artful man. He opened on the novice withsomething quite wide of the mark he was really aiming at. "The townrecords," said he, "are crabbedly written, and the ink rusty with age."He offered Gerard the honour of transcribing them fair.

  Gerard inquired what he was to be paid.

  Ghysbrecht offered a sum that would have just purchased the pens, ink,and parchment.

  "But, burgomaster, my labour? Here is a year's work."

  "Your labour? Call you marking parchment labour? Little sweat goes tothat, I trow."

  "'Tis labour, and skilled labour to boot: and that is better paid in allcrafts than rude labour, sweat or no sweat. Beside, there's my time."

  "Your time? Why what is time to you, at two-and-twenty?" Then fixing hiseyes keenly on Gerard, to mark the effect of his words, he said: "Sayrather, you are idle grown. You are in love. Your body is with thesechanting monks, but your heart is with Peter Brandt and his red-hairedgirl."

  "I know no Peter Brandt."

  "This denial confirmed Ghysbrecht's suspicion that the caster-out ofdemons was playing a deep game.

  "Ye lie!" he shouted. "Did I not find you at her elbow, on the road toRotterdam?"

  "Ah!"

  "Ah. And you were seen at Sevenbergen but t'other day."

  "Was I?"

  "Ay; and at Peter's house."

  "At Sevenbergen?"

  "Ay, at Sevenbergen."

  Now, this was what in modern days is called a draw. It was a guess, putboldly forth as fact, to elicit by the young man's answer, whether hehad been there lately or not.

  The result of the artifice surprised the crafty one. Gerard started upin a strange state of nervous excitement.

  "Burgomaster," said he, with trembling voice, "I have not been atSevenbergen this three years, and I knew not the name of those you sawme with, nor where they dwelt; but as my time is precious, though youvalue it not, give you good day." And he darted out with his eyessparkling.

  Ghysbrecht started up in huge ire; but he sank into his chair again.

  "He fears me not. He knows something if not all."

  Then he called hastily to his trusty servant, and almost dragged him toa window.

  "See you yon man?" he cried. "Haste! Follow him! But let him not seeyou. He is young, but old in craft. Keep him in sight all day. Let meknow whither he goes and what he does."

  * * * * *

  It was night when the servant returned.

  "Well? well?" cried Van Swieten, eagerly.

  "Master, the young man went from you to Sevenbergen."

  Ghysbrecht groaned.

  "To the house of Peter the Magician."

  CHAPTER VI