CHAPTER LXIII.
MONSEIGNEUR.
However, the Antwerpians did not quietly see the hostile preparations ofthe Duc d'Anjou, and Joyeuse was not wrong in attributing to them allthe enmity possible. Antwerp was like a beehive at night, calm on theexterior, but within full of movement and murmur.
The Flemings in arms patroled the streets, barricaded their houses, andfraternized with the battalions of the Prince of Orange, of whom partwere already in garrison there, while the other part entered the city infractions.
When all was ready for a vigorous defense, the Prince of Orange, on adark and moonless night, entered the city quietly, and went to the Hotelde Ville, where his confidants had everything ready for his reception.There he received all the deputies of the bourgeoisie, passed in reviewthe officers of the paid troops, and communicated his plans to them, thechief of which was to profit by this movement of the Duc d'Anjou tobreak with him. The duke had done just what William wished to bring himto, and he saw with pleasure this new competitor for the sovereigntyruin himself, like so many others.
William would have taken the offensive, but the governor objected, anddetermined to wait for the arrival of monseigneur.
Nine o'clock in the evening sounded, and the uncertainty became realanxiety, some scouts having protested that they had seen a movement inthe French camp. A little flat boat had been sent on the Scheldt toreconnoiter, for the Antwerpians were less unquiet as to what wouldoccur by land than by sea; but the bark had not returned. William becamemore and more impatient, when the door of the hall opened, and a valetappeared and announced "Monseigneur." As he spoke, a man, tall andimperious-looking, wearing with supreme grace the cloak which entirelyenveloped him, entered the hall, and saluted courteously those who werethere. But at the first glance, his eye, proud and piercing, sought outthe prince in the midst of his officers.
He went straight up to him and offered him his hand, which the princepressed with affection, and almost with respect.
They called each other "Monseigneur." After this the unknown took offhis cloak. He was dressed in a buff doublet, and had high leather boots;he was armed with a long sword, which seemed to make part of himself, soeasily it hung, and with a little dagger, which was passed through hisbelt. His boots were covered with mud and dust, and his spurs were redwith the blood of his horse. He took his place at the table.
"Well, where are we?" asked he.
"Monseigneur," replied William, "you must have seen, in coming here,that the streets were barricaded."
"I saw that."
"And the houses loopholed?"
"I did not see that; but it is a good plan."
"And the sentries doubled?"
"Does not monseigneur approve of these preparations for defense?" said avoice, in a tone of anxious disappointment.
"Yes; but, however, I do not believe that in our circumstances it willbe useful; it fatigues the soldier and disquiets the bourgeois. You havea plan of attack and defense, I suppose?"
"We waited to communicate them to monseigneur," said the burgomaster.
"Speak then."
"Monseigneur arrived rather late, and I was obliged to act meanwhile,"said William.
"And you did right, monseigneur; besides, whatever you do, you do well.But I have not lost my time on the road, either."
"We know by our spies," said the burgomaster, "that a movement ispreparing in the French camp; they are making ready for an attack, butas we do not know on which side it will come, we have disposed the gunsso that they may be equally distributed over the whole rampart."
"That is wise," replied the unknown, with a slight smile to William, whoheld his tongue, and let the bourgeois speak of war.
"We have done the same with our civic guards; they are spread over thewhole wall, and have orders to run at once to the point of attack.However, it is the opinion of the greater number of our members that itis impossible that the French meditate anything but a feigned attack."
"And what purpose would that serve?"
"To intimidate us, and induce us to admit them amicably."
The stranger looked again at the Prince of Orange, who listened to allthis in the most careless manner, which almost amounted to disdain.
"However," said another voice, "some fancied they could distinguishpreparations for attack in the camp this evening."
"Mere suspicions," said the burgomaster; "I examined the camp myselfwith an excellent spy-glass. The men were preparing for sleep, and theduke was dining in his tent."
The unknown threw a new glance at the prince, and fancied that this timehe gave a slight smile.
"Gentlemen," said the unknown, "you are in error; a regular assault ispreparing against you, and your plans, however good, are incomplete."
"But, monseigneur--"
"Incomplete in this, that you expect an attack, and have prepared tomeet it."
"Certainly."
"Well, it is you who will make the attack, not wait for it, if you willtrust to me."--"Ah!" cried William, "that is something like speaking."
"At this moment," said the stranger, who saw that he might reckon on theprince's support, "the ships of M. de Joyeuse are getting ready."
"How do you know that, monseigneur?" cried many voices together.
"I know it," replied he.
A murmur of doubt was half uttered, but the stranger caught it.
"Do you doubt it?" asked he, in the tone of a man accustomed to controlall fears, prejudices, and self-loves.
"We do not doubt it if your highness says it; but if you will permit usto observe--"
"Speak."
"That if it were so we should have had tidings of it."
"How so?"--"By our spies."