CHAPTER III
A grave white-haired seneschal came to their table, and inquiredcourteously whether Gerard Eliassoen was of their company. Upon Gerard'sanswer, he said:
"The Princess Marie would confer with you, young sir; I am to conductyou to her presence."
Instantly all faces within hearing turned sharp round, and were bentwith curiosity and envy on the man that was to go to a princess.
Gerard rose to obey.
"I wager we shall not see you again," said Margaret calmly, butcolouring a little.
"That you will," was the reply: then he whispered in her ear: "This ismy good princess; but you are my queen." He added aloud: "Wait for me, Ipray you, I will presently return."
"Ay, ay!" said Peter, awaking and speaking at one and the same moment.
Gerard gone, the pair whose dress was so homely, yet they were with theman whom the Princess sent for, became "the cynosure of neighbouringeyes;" observing which, William Johnson came forward, acted surprise,and claimed his relations.
"And to think that there was I at your backs, and you saw me not"
"Nay, cousin Johnson, I saw you long syne," said Margaret coldly.
"You saw me, and spoke not to me?"
"Cousin, it was for you to welcome us to Rotterdam, as it is for usto welcome you at Sevenbergen. Your servant denied us a seat in yourhouse."
"The idiot!"
"And I had a mind to see whether it was 'like maid like master:' forthere is sooth in bywords."
William Johnson blushed purple. He saw Margaret was keen, and suspectedhim. He did the wisest thing under the circumstances, trusted to deedsnot words. He insisted on their coming home with him at once, and hewould show them whether they were welcome to Rotterdam or not.
"Who doubts it, cousin? Who doubts it?" said the scholar.
Margaret thanked him graciously, but demurred to go just now: saidshe wanted to hear the minstrels again. In about a quarter of an hourJohnson renewed his proposal, and bade her observe that many of theguests had left. Then her real reason came out.
"It were ill manners to our friend; and he will lose us. He knows notwhere we lodge in Rotterdam, and the city is large, and we have partedcompany once already."
"Oh!" said Johnson, "we will provide for that. My young man, ahem!I mean my secretary, shall sit here and wait, and bring him on to myhouse: he shall lodge with me and with no other."
"Cousin, we shall be too burdensome."
"Nay, nay; you shall see whether you are welcome or not, you and yourfriends, and your friends' friends, if need be; and I shall hear whatthe Princess would with him."
Margaret felt a thrill of joy that Gerard should be lodged under thesame roof with her; then she had a slight misgiving.
"But if your young man should be thoughtless, and go play, and Gerardmiss him?"
"He go play? He leave that spot where I put him, and bid him stay? Ho!stand forth, Hans Cloterman."
A figure clad in black serge and dark violet hose arose, and took twosteps and stood before them without moving a muscle: a solemn, preciseyoung man, the very statue of gravity and starched propriety. At hisaspect Margaret, being very happy, could hardly keep her countenance.But she whispered Johnson, "I would put my hand in the fire for him. Weare at your command, cousin, as soon as you have given him his orders."
Hans was then instructed to sit at the table and wait for Gerard, andconduct him to Ooster-Waagen Straet. He replied, not in words, butby calmly taking the seat indicated, and Margaret, Peter, and WilliamJohnson went away together.
"And, indeed, it is time you were abed, father, after all your travel,"said Margaret. This had been in her mind all along.
Hans Cloterman sat waiting for Gerard, solemn and businesslike. Theminutes flew by, but excited no impatience in that perfect young man.Johnson did him no more than justice when he laughed to scorn the ideaof his secretary leaving his post or neglecting his duty in pursuit ofsport or out of youthful hilarity and frivolity.
As Gerard was long in coming, the patient Hans--his employer's eye beingno longer on him improved the time by quaffing solemnly, silently, andat short but accurately measured intervals, goblets of Corsican wine.The wine was strong, so was Cloterman's head; and Gerard had been gonea good hour ere the model secretary imbibed the notion that Creationexpected Cloterman to drink the health of all good fellows, andnommement of the Duke of Burgundy there present. With this view hefilled bumper nine, and rose gingerly but solemnly and slowly. Havingreached his full height, he instantly rolled upon the grass, gobletin hand, spilling the cold liquor on more than one ankle--whose ownersfrisked--but not disturbing a muscle in his own long face, which, inthe total eclipse of reason, retained its gravity, primness, andinfallibility.
The seneschal led Gerard through several passages to the door of thepavilion, where some young noblemen, embroidered and feathered, satsentinel, guarding the heir-apparent, and playing cards by the red lightof torches their servants held. A whisper from the seneschal, and oneof them rose reluctantly, stared at Gerard with haughty surprise, andentered the pavilion. He presently returned, and, beckoning the pair,led then, through a passage or two and landed them in an ante-chamber,where sat three more young gentlemen, feathered, furred, and embroideredlike pieces of fancy work, and deep in that instructive and edifyingbranch of learning, dice.
"You can't see the Princess--it is too late," said one.
Another followed suit:
"She passed this way but now with her nurse. She is gone to bed, dolland all. Deuce--ace again!"
Gerard prepared to retire. The seneschal, with an incredulous smile,replied:
"The young man is here by the Countess's orders; be so good as conducthim to her ladies."
On this a superb Adonis rose, with an injured look, and led Gerard intoa room where sat or lolloped eleven ladies, chattering like magpies.Two, more industrious than the rest, were playing cat's-cradle withfingers as nimble as their tongues. At the sight of a stranger all thetongues stopped like one piece of complicated machinery, and all theeyes turned on Gerard, as if the same string that checked the tongueshad turned the eyes on. Gerard was ill at ease before, but this batteryof eyes discountenanced him, and down went his eyes on the ground. Thenthe cowards finding, like the hare who ran by the pond and the frogsscuttled into the water, that there was a creature they could frighten,giggled and enjoyed their prowess. Then a duenna said severely,"Mesdames!" and they were all abashed at once as though a modesty stringhad been pulled. This same duenna took Gerard, and marched before himin solemn silence. The young man's heart sank, and he had half a mind toturn and run out of the place.
"What must princes be," he thought, "when their courtiers are sofreezing? Doubtless they take their breeding from him they serve." Thesereflections were interrupted by the duenna suddenly introducing him intoa room where three ladies sat working, and a pretty little girl tuninga lute. The ladies were richly but not showily dressed, and the duennawent up to the one who was hemming a kerchief, and said a few words ina low tone. This lady then turned towards Gerard with a smile, andbeckoned him to come near her. She did not rise, but she laid aside herwork, and her manner of turning towards him, slight as the movement was,was full of grace and ease and courtesy. She began a conversation atonce.
"Margaret Van Eyck is an old friend of mine, sir, and I am right glad tohave a letter from her hand, and thankful to you, sir, for bringing itto me safely. Marie, my love, this is the gentleman who brought you thatpretty miniature."
"Sir, I thank you a thousand times," said the young lady.
"I am glad you feel her debtor, sweetheart, for our friend would have usto do him a little service in return.
"I will do anything on earth for him," replied the young lady withardour.
"Anything on earth is nothing in the world," said the Countess ofCharolois quietly.
"Well, then, I will--What would you have me to do, sir?"
Gerard had just found out what high society he was in. "My sovereigndemois
elle," said he, gently and a little tremulously, "where there havebeen no pains, there needs no reward."
But we must obey mamma. All the world must obey
"That is true. Then, our demoiselle, reward me, if you will by lettingme hear the stave you were going to sing and I did interrupt it."
"What! you love music, sir?"
"I adore it."
The little princess looked inquiringly at her mother, and received asmile of assent. She then took her lute and sang a romaunt of the day.Although but twelve years old, she was a well-taught and painstakingmusician. Her little claw swept the chords with Courage and precision,and struck out the notes of the arpeggio clear, and distinct, andbright, like twinkling stars; but the main charm was her voice. It wasnot mighty, but it was round, clear, full, and ringing like a bell. Shesang with a certain modest eloquence, though she knew none of the tricksof feeling. She was too young to be theatrical, or even sentimental,so nothing was forced--all gushed. Her little mouth seemed the mouth ofNature. The ditty, too, was as pure as its utterance. As there were noneof those false divisions--those whining slurs, which are now sold sodear by Italian songsters, though every jackal in India delivers themgratis to his customers all night, and sometimes gets shot for them, andalways deserves it--so there were no cadences and fiorituri, the trite,turgid, and feeble expletives of song, the skim-milk with which mindlessmusicians and mindless writers quench fire, wash out colour, and drownmelody and meaning dead.
While the pure and tender strain was flowing from the pure young throat,Gerard's eyes filled. The Countess watched him with interest, for itwas usual to applaud the Princess loudly, but not with cheek and eye.So when the voice ceased, and the glasses left off ringing, she askeddemurely, "Was he content?"
Gerard gave a little start; the spoken voice broke a charm and broughthim back to earth.
"Oh, madam!" he cried, "surely it is thus that cherubs and seraphs sing,and charm the saints in heaven."
"I am somewhat of your opinion, my young friend," said the Countess,with emotion and she bent a look of love and gentle pride upon hergirl: a heavenly look, such as, they say, is given to the eye of theshort-lived resting on the short-lived.
The Countess resumed: "My old friend request me to be serviceable toyou. It is the first favour she has done us the honour of asking us, andthe request is sacred. You are in holy orders, sir?"
Gerard bowed.
"I fear you are not a priest, you look too young."
"Oh no, madam; I am not even a sub-deacon. I am only a lector; but nextmonth I shall be an exorcist, and before long an acolyth."
"Well, Monsieur Gerard, with your accomplishments you can soon passthrough the inferior orders. And let me beg you to do so. For theday after you have said your first mass I shall have the pleasure ofappointing you to a benefice."
"Oh, madam!"
"And, Marie, remember I make this promise in your name as well as myown."
"Fear not, mamma: I will not forget. But if he will take my advice,what he will be is Bishop of Liege. The Bishop of Liege is a beautifulbishop. What! do you not remember him, mamma, that day we were at Liege?he was braver than grandpapa himself. He had on a crown, a high one, andit was cut in the middle, and it was full of oh! such beautiful jewels;and his gown stiff with gold; and his mantle, too; and it had a broadborder, all pictures; but, above all, his gloves; you have no suchgloves, mamma. They were embroidered and covered with jewels, andscented with such lovely scent; I smelt them all the time he was givingme his blessing on my head with them. Dear old man! I dare say he willdie soon most old people do and then, sir, you Can be bishop you know,and wear--
"Gently, Marie, gently: bishoprics are for old gentlemen; and this is ayoung gentleman."
"Mamma! he is not so very young.
"Not compared with you, Marie, eh?"
"He is a good birth dear mamma; and I am sure he is good enough for abishop.
"Alas! mademoiselle, you are mistaken"
"I know not that, Monsieur Gerard; but I am a little puzzled to know onwhat grounds mademoiselle there pronounces your character so boldly."
"Alas! mamma," said the Princess, "you have not looked at his face,then;" and she raised her eyebrows at her mother's simplicity.
"I beg your pardon," said the Countess, "I have. Well, sir, if I cannotgo quite so fast as my daughter, attribute it to my age, not to a wantof interest in your welfare. A benefice will do to begin your Careerwith; and I must take care it is not too far from--what call you theplace?"
"Tergou, madam
"A priest gives up much," continued the Countess; "often, I fear, helearns too late how much;" and her woman's eye rested a moment on Gerardwith mild pity and half surprise at his resigning her sex and all theheaven they can bestow, and the great parental joys: "at least you shallbe near your friends. Have you a mother?"
"Yes, madam, thanks be to God!"
"Good! You shall have a church near Tergou. She will thank me. And now,sir, we must not detain you too long from those who have a better claimon your society than we have. Duchess, oblige me by bidding one of thepages conduct him to the hall of banquet; the way is hard to find."
Gerard bowed low to the Countess and the Princess, and backed towardsthe door.
"I hope it will be a nice benefice," said the Princess to him, with apretty smile, as he was going out; then, shaking her head with an air ofsolemn misgiving, "but you had better have been Bishop of Liege."
Gerard followed his new conductor, his heart warm with gratitude; butere he reached the banquet-hall a chill came over him. The mind of onewho has led a quiet, uneventful life is not apt to take in contradictoryfeelings at the same moment and balance them, but rather to beoverpowered by each in turn. While Gerard was with the Countess, theexcitement of so new a situation, the unlooked-for promise the joyand pride it would cause at home, possessed him wholly; but now it waspassion's turn to be heard again. What! give up Margaret, whose softhand he still felt in his, and her deep eyes in his heart? resign herand all the world of love and joy she had opened on him to-day? Therevulsion, when it did come, was so strong that he hastily resolvedto say nothing at home about the offered benefice. "The Countess isso good," thought he, "she has a hundred ways of aiding a young man'sfortune: she will not compel me to be a priest when she shall learn Ilove one of her sex: one would almost think she does know it, for shecast a strange look on me, and said, 'A priest gives up much, too much.'I dare say she will give me a place about the palace." And with thishopeful reflection his mind was eased, and, being now at the entranceof the banqueting hall, he thanked his conductor, and ran hastily withjoyful eyes to Margaret. He came in sight of the table--she was gone.Peter was gone too. Nobody was at the table at all; only a citizen insober garments had just tumbled under it dead drunk, and several personswere raising him to carry him away. Gerard never guessed how importantthis solemn drunkard was to him: he was looking for "Beauty," andlet the "Beast" lie. He ran wildly round the hall, which was nowcomparatively empty. She was not there. He left the palace: outside hefound a crowd gaping at two great fan-lights just lighted over the gate.He asked them earnestly if they had seen an old man in a gown, and alovely girl pass out. They laughed at the question. "They were staringat these new lights that turn night into day. They didn't trouble theirheads about old men and young wenches, every-day sights." From anothergroup he learned there was a Mystery being played under canvas hard by,and all the world gone to see it. This revived his hopes, and he wentand saw the Mystery.
In this representation divine personages, too sacred for me to namehere, came clumsily down from heaven to talk sophistry with the cardinalVirtues, the nine Muses, and the seven deadly sins, all present inhuman shape, and not unlike one another. To enliven which weary stuffin rattled the Prince of the power of the air, and an imp that keptmolesting him and buffeting him with a bladder, at each thwack of whichthe crowd were in ecstasies. When the Vices had uttered good store ofobscenity and the Virtues twaddle, the celestials, including the nin
eMuses went gingerly back to heaven one by one; for there was but onecloud; and two artisans worked it up with its supernatural freight,and worked it down with a winch, in full sight of the audience. Thesedisposed of, the bottomless pit opened and flamed in the centre of thestage; the carpenters and Virtues shoved the Vices in, and the Virtuesand Beelzebub and his tormentor danced merrily round the place ofeternal torture to the fife and tabor.
This entertainment was writ by the Bishop of Ghent for the diffusionof religious sentiment by the aid of the senses, and was an averagespecimen of theatrical exhibitions so long as they were in the hands ofthe clergy. But, in course of time, the laity conducted plays, and sothe theatre, I learn from the pulpit, has become profane.
Margaret was nowhere in the crowd, and Gerard could not enjoy theperformance; he actually went away in Act 2, in the midst of amuch-admired piece of dialogue, in which Justice out-quibbled Satan. Hewalked through many streets, but could not find her he sought. At last,fairly worn out, he went to a hostelry and slept till daybreak. All thatday, heavy and heartsick, he sought her, but could never fall in withher or her father, nor ever obtain the slightest clue. Then he felt shewas false or had changed her mind. He was irritated now, as well as sad.More good fortune fell on him; he almost hated it. At last, on the thirdday, after he had once more been through every street, he said, "She isnot in the town, and I shall never see her again. I will go home."He started for Tergou with royal favour promised, with fifteen goldenangels in his purse, a golden medal on his bosom, and a heart like alump of lead.