CHAPTER XXV.
The tavern where Georg von Dornburg lodged stood on the "broad street,"and was a fine building with a large court-yard, in which were numerousvehicles. On the left of the entrance was a large open room enteredthrough a lofty archway. Here the drivers and other folk sat over theirbeer and wine, suffering the innkeeper's hens to fly on the benches andeven sometimes on the table, here vegetables were cleaned, boiled andfried, here the stout landlady was frequently obliged to call hersturdy maid and men servants to her aid, when her guests came to actualfighting, or some one drank more than was good for him. Here the newcustom of tobacco-smoking was practised, though only by a few sailorswho had served on Spanish ships--but Frau Van Aken could not endurethe acrid smoke and opened the windows, which were filled with bloomingpinks, slender stalks of balsam, and cages containing bright-plumagedgoldfinches. On the side opposite to the entrance were two closedrooms. Above the door of one, neatly carved in wood, were the lines fromHorace:
"Ille terrarum mihi praeter omnes. Angulus ridet."
[Of all the corners of the world, There is none that so charms me.]
Only a few chosen guests found admittance into this long, narrowapartment. It was completely wainscoted with wood, and from the centreof the richly-carved ceiling a strange picture gleamed in brillianthues. This represented the landlord. The worthy man with the smoothface, firmly-closed lips, and long nose, which offered an excellentstraight line to its owner's burin, sat on a throne in the costume ofa Roman general, while Vulcan and Bacchus, Minerva and Poinona, offeredhim gifts. Klaus Van Aken, or as he preferred to be called, NicolausAquanus, was a singular man, who had received good gifts from more thanone of the Olympians; for besides his business he zealously devotedhimself to science and several of the arts. He was an excellentsilver-smith, a die-cutter and engraver of great skill, had a remarkableknowledge of coins, was an industrious student and collector ofantiquities. His little tap-room was also a museum; for on the shelves,that surrounded it, stood rare objects of every description, in richabundance and regular order; old jugs and tankards, large and smallcoins, gems in carefully-sealed glass-cases, antique lamps of clayand bronze, stones with ancient Roman inscriptions, Roman and Greekterra-cotta, polished fragments of marble which he had found in Italyamong the ruins, the head of a faun, an arm, a foot and other bits ofPagan works of art, a beautifully-enamelled casket of Byzantine work,and another with enamelled ornamentation from Limoges. Even half a Romancoat of mail and a bit of mosaic from a Roman bath were to be seen here.Amid these antiquities, stood beautiful Venetian glasses, pine-cones andostrich-eggs. Such another tap-room could scarcely be found in Holland,and even the liquor, which a neatly-dressed maid poured for the guestsfrom oddly-shaped tankards into exquisitely-wrought goblets, wasexceptionally fine. In this room Herr Aquanus himself was in the habitof appearing among his guests; in the other, opposite to the entrance,his wife held sway.
On this day, the "Angulus," as the beautiful taproom was called, was butthinly occupied, for the sun had just set, though the lamps were alreadylighted. These rested in three-branched iron chandeliers, every portionof which, from the slender central shaft to the intricately-carved andtwisted ornaments, had been carefully wrought by Aquanus with his ownhand.
Several elderly gentlemen were at one table enjoying their wine,while at another were Captain Van der Laen, a brave Hollander, who wasreceiving English pay and had come to the city with the other defendersof Alfen, the Musician Wilhelm, Junker Georg, and the landlord.
"It's a pleasure to meet people like you, Junker," said Aquanus. "You'vetravelled with your eyes open, and what you tell me about Bresciaexcites my curiosity. I Should have liked to see the inscription."
"I'll get it for you," replied the young man; "for if the Spaniardsdon't send me into another world, I shall certainly cross the Alpsagain. Did you find any of these Roman antiquities in your own country?"
"Yes. At the Roomburg Canal, perhaps the site of the old Praetorium, andat Katwyk. The forum Hadriani was probably located near Voorburg. Thecoat of mail, I showed you, came from there."
"An old, green, half-corroded thing," cried Georg. "And yet! Whatmemories the sight of it awakens! Did not some Roman armorer forge itfor the wandering emperor? When I look at this coat of mail, Romeand her legions appear before my eyes. Who would not, like you, HerrWilhelna, go to the Tiber to increase the short span of the present bythe long centuries of the past!"
"I should be glad to go to Italy once more with you," replied Wilhelm.
"And I with you."
"Let us first secure our liberty," said the musician. "When that isaccomplished, each individual will belong to himself, and then: whyshould I conceal it, nothing will keep me in Leyden."
"And the organ? Your father?" asked Aquanus.
"My brothers will remain here, snug in their own nest," answeredWilhelm. "But something urges, impels me--"
"There are still waters and rivers on earth," interrupted Georg, "and inthe sky the fixed stars remain quiet and the planets cannot cease fromwandering. So among human beings, there are contented persons, who liketheir own places, and birds of passage like us. To be sure, you needn'tgo to Italy to hear fine singing. I just heard a voice, a voice--"
"Where? You make me eager."
"In the court-yard of Herr Van der Werff's house."
"That was his wife."
"Oh, no! Her voice sounds differently."
During this conversation, Captain Van der Laen had risen and examinedthe landlord's singular treasures. He was now standing before a board,on which the head of an ox was sketched in charcoal, freely, boldly andwith perfect fidelity to nature.
"What magnificent piece of beef is this?" he asked the landlord.
"No less a personage than Frank Floris sketched it," replied Aquanus."He once came here from Brussels and called on Meister Artjen. The oldman had gone out, so Floris took a bit of charcoal and drew these lineswith it. When Artjen came home and found the ox's head, he stood beforeit a long time and finally exclaimed: 'Frank Floris, or the devil!' Thisstory--But there comes the burgomaster. Welcome, Meister Peter. A rarehonor."
All the guests rose and respectfully greated Van der Werff; Georgstarted up to offer him his chair. Peter sat down for a short time anddrank a glass of wine, but soon beckoned to the Junker and went out withhim into the street.
There he briefly requested him to go to his house, for they had animportant communication to make, and then went to Van Hout's residence,which was close beside the inn.
Georg walked thoughtfully towards the burgomaster's.
The "they" could scarcely have referred to any one except Maria. Whatcould she want of him at so late an hour? Had his friend regrettedhaving offered him lodgings in her own house? He was to move into hisnew quarters early next morning; perhaps she wished to inform himof this change of mind, before it was too late. Maria treated himdifferently from before, there was no doubt of that, but surely this wasnatural! He had dreamed of a different, far different meeting! Hehad come to Holland to support the good cause of Orange, yet he wouldcertainly have turned his steed towards his beloved Italy, where a goodsword was always in demand, instead of to the north, had he not hoped tofind in Holland her, whom he had never forgotten, for whom he had neverceased to long--Now she was the wife of another, a man who had shown himkindness, given him his confidence. To tear his love from his heartwas impossible; but he owed it to her husband and his own honor to bestrong, to resolutely repress every thought of possessing her, and onlyrejoice in seeing her; and this he must try to accomplish.
He had told himself all these things more than once, but realized thathe was walking with unsteady steps, upon a narrow pathway, when she methim outside the dining-room and he felt how cold and tremulous was thehand she laid in his.
Maria led the way, and he silently followed her into Henrica's room. Thelatter greeted him with a friendly gesture, but both ladies hesitated toutter the first word. The young man turned
hastily, noticed that he wasin the room overlooking the court-yard, and said, eagerly: "I wasdown below just before twilight, to look at my new quarters, and heardsinging from this room, and such singing! At first I didn't knowwhat was coming, for the tones were husky, weak, and broken, butafterwards--afterwards the melody burst forth like a stream of lavathrough the ashes. We ought to wish many sorrows to one, who can lamentthus."
"You shall make the singer's acquaintance," said Maria, motioningtowards the young girl. "Fraulein Henrica Van Hoogstraten, a belovedguest in our house."
"Were you the songstress?" asked Georg.
"Does that surprise you?" replied Henrica. "My voice has certainlyretained its strength better than my body, wasted by long continuedsuffering. I feel how deeply my eyes are sunken and how pale I mustbe. Singing certainly lightens pain, and I have been deprived of thecomforter long enough. Not a note has passed my lips for weeks, andnow my heart aches so, that I would far rather weep than sing. 'Whattroubles me?' you will ask, and yet Maria gives me courage to request achivalrous service, almost without parallel, at your hands."
"Speak, speak," Georg eagerly exclaimed. "If Frau Maria summons me and Ican serve you, dear lady: here I am, dispose of me."
Henrica did not avoid his frank glance, as she replied:
"First hear what a great service we ask of you. You must prepareyourself to hear a short story. I am still weak and have put my strengthto a severe test to-day, Maria must speak for me."
The young wife fulfilled this task quietly and clearly, closing with thewords:
"The messenger we need, I have found myself. You must be he, JunkerGeorg."
Henrica had not interrupted the burgomaster's wife; but now said warmly
"I have only made your acquaintance to-day, but I trust you entirely.A few hours ago, black would have been my color, but if you will be myknight, I'll choose cheerful green, for I now begin to hope again. Willyou venture to take the ride for me?"
Hitherto Georg had gazed silently at the floor. Now he raised his head,saying:
"If I can obtain leave of absence, I will place myself at yourdisposal;--but my lady's color is blue, and I am permitted to wear noother."
Henrica's lips quivered slightly, but the young nobleman continued:
"Captain Van der Laen is my superior officer. I'll speak to him atonce."
"And if he says no?" asked Maria.
Henrica interrupted her and answered haughtily: "Then I beg you to sendme Herr Wilhelm, the musician."
Georg bowed and went to the tavern.
As soon as the ladies were alone, the young girl asked:
"Do you know Herr von Dornburg's lady?"
"How should I?" replied Maria. "Give yourself a little rest, Fraulein.As soon as the Junker comes back, I'll bring him to you."
The young wife left the room and seated herself at the spinning-wheelwith Barbara. Georg kept them waiting a long time, but at midnight againappeared, accompanied by two companions. It was not within the limitsof the captain's authority to grant him a leave of absence for severalweeks--the journey to Italy would have required that length of time--butthe Junker had consulted the musician, and the latter had found theright man, with whom Wilhelm speedily made the necessary arrangements,and brought him without delay: it was the old steward, Belotti.