An involuntary exclamation of astonishment burst from the lips of
Albert Maurice; and the Vert Gallant instantly closed his helmet.
"Now, Sir Citizen," he said, without noticing the other's surprise,
"we will once more forward on our way. Some one bind his eyes again;
and you, good friend, lend me your ear for a moment. Mark well,"
he said, speaking in a lower voice to the elder man already
mentioned--"mark well that all the precautions are taken which I
ordered. Be sure the tracks of the horses' feet, for more than a mile,
be completely effaced. Roll the large stones down, as I told you, over
the mouth, and let not a man show his head during the whole day. If,
notwithstanding all, you should be discovered, and the fools will rush
upon their fate, send round fifty men by the back of the rock, and on
your life, let not one of the band escape. I say not slay them: take
every man to mercy that is willing; but suffer not one living man to
pass the bounds of the forest if they once discover you. If, however,
they miss the track entirely, as doubtless they will, then, should I
not see you before to-morrow night, pick me out fifty of the best
riders, and the quickest handed men; let their horses be kept saddled,
and not a break in their mail; for I do not purpose that this Prevot
should hie him back to Brussels without being met withal."
By the time the Vert Gallant had given these directions, the scarf was
once more bound round the eyes of Albert Maurice, and he was again led
forward by the hand, apparently passing through several halls and
passages. In one instance, the peculiar smell of horses, and the
various sounds that he heard, convinced him that he was going through
a stable; and, in a few minutes after, receiving a caution to walk
carefully, he was guided down a steep descent, at the end of which the
free open air blew cool upon his cheek. The bandage was not removed,
however, for some moments, though, by feeling the grass and withered
leaves beneath his feet, he discovered that he was once more under the
boughs of the forest.
At length the voice of him who had been his conductor throughout,
desired him to halt, and uncover his eyes, which he accordingly did,
and found himself, as he expected, in the deepest part of the wood.
"Now follow me on, Sir Citizen!" said the Vert Gallant, "and as we go,
I will tell you how you must conduct yourself. Make your way straight
to Mierdorp, where you will arrive probably about the grey of the
dawn. As you are going into the village, you will be joined by a
certain monk, to whom you will say, 'Good morrow, Father Barnabas,'
and he will immediately conduct you on your road towards Namur. Halt
with him at the village where you were first arrested. Speak with the
syndic, or deacon, or any other officer of the place, and get together
all the written testimony you can concerning the cause of your arrest.
Then return to Ghent if you will. It may be that no accuser ever will
appear against you, but if there should, boldly appeal to the Princess
Mary, who is left behind by her father at Ghent. State the real
circumstances which caused your arrest at Gembloux, and call upon your
accuser to bring forward any proofs against you. But mark well, and
remember, walk not late by night. Go not forth into the streets alone.
Always have such friends and companions about you as may witness your
arrest, and second your appeal to the princess. For there are such
things, Sir Citizen, as deaths in prison without judgment."
"I shall remember with gratitude, sir," replied the young burgher,
"all that you have been pleased to say, and all that you have done in
my behalf. But on one point I must needs think you mistake. If I know
where I am rightly, we are full sixteen miles from Mierdorp--a
distance which would take four good hours to walk. The castle clock
has just struck three, so that it may be broad day, and not merely
dawn, before I can reach that place."
"Fear not, fear not," replied the stranger, "you shall have the means
of reaching it in time; but follow me quick, for the hours wear." Thus
saying, he strode on through the trees and brushwood, pursuing a path,
which, though totally invisible to the eyes of his companion, he
seemed to tread with the most perfect certainty. Sometimes the
occasional underwood appeared to cover it over entirely; and often the
sweeping boughs of the higher trees drooped across it, and dashed the
night dew upon the clothes of the travellers, as they pushed through
them; but still the Vert Gallant led on. In about ten minutes, the
glancing rays of the sinking moon, seen shining through the leaves
before them, showed that they were coming to some more open ground;
and the next moment they stood upon the principal road which traversed
the forest.
By the side of the highway, with an ordinary groom holding the bridle,
stood a strong, bony horse; and the only further words that were
spoken, were--"The road lies straight before you to the west; mount,
and God speed you. Give the horse to the monk when you are in safety."
"A thousand thanks and blessings on your head!" replied the young
burgher; and springing with easy grace into the saddle, he struck the
horse with his heel, and darted off towards Mierdorp.
"A likely cavalier as ever I saw!" exclaimed the Vert Gallant. "Now,
to cover, to cover," he added, turning to the groom, and once more
plunged into the forest.
In the meanwhile Albert Maurice rode on; and with his personal
adventures we shall now be compelled to proceed for some way, leaving
the other characters for fate to play with as she lists, till we have
an opportunity of resuming their history also.
The horse that bore the young burgher, though not the most showy that
ever underwent the saddle, proved strong, swift, and willing; and as
it is probably impossible for a man just liberated from prison, with
the first sense of recovered freedom fresh upon him, to ride slowly,
Albert Maurice dashed on for some way at full speed. His mind had
adopted, without a moment's doubt or hesitation, the plan which had
been pointed out to him by the leader of the adventurers, as the very
best which, under his present circumstances, he could pursue; and this
conviction--together with the proofs he had already received that the
wishes of the Vert Gallant were friendly and generous towards himself,
and the intimate knowledge which his deliverer had displayed of his
affairs--made him resolve to follow implicitly his directions.
Although this resolution was brought about by the mental operation of
a single moment, it is not to be supposed that the various events
which had befallen him, since entering the castle of Hannut, had not
produced on his mind all those effects of wonder, surprise, and doubt,
which they might naturally be expected to cause in the bosom of any
person so circumstanced.
There were a thousand things that he could not in any way account for,
and which we shall not attempt to account for either. The interest
which his deliverer had taken in his fate; the means by which he had
acquired such an exact knowledge of his situation; the existence of so
large a band of free companions, notwithstanding the many efforts
which the Duke of Burgundy had made to put them down, were all matters
of astonishment. He had felt, however, during his short intercourse
with the green riders, that neither the time, the place, nor the
circumstances admitted of any inquiry upon the subject; and with a
prompt decision, which was one great trait in his character, while he
took advantage of the means of escape offered to him, he had
suppressed as far as possible every word which might have betrayed
surprise or curiosity. As he rode on, however, he pondered on all that
had happened; and he doubted not, that, now he was at liberty to seek
and collect the proofs of his innocence, he should find little
difficulty in clearing himself from any absolute crime, if his cause
were submitted to a regular tribunal. Unfortunately, this did not
always occur. In most of the continental states the will of the prince
was law; and too often the same absolute jurisdiction was exercised by
his officers. This was especially the case in respect to Maillotin du
Bac, who, in one morning, had been known to arrest and hang thirty
persons, without any form of trial or judicial investigation.
Nevertheless, all these circumstances seemed to have been fully
considered by the Vert Gallant; and the means he had pointed out of an
appeal to the Princess Mary, in case of unjust persecution, were, as
the young burgher well knew, the only ones that could prove
efficacious.
So well had the distance and the horse's speed been calculated, that,
at about two miles from Mierdorp, that undefinable grey tint, which
can hardly be called light, but is the first approach towards it,
began to spread upwards over the eastern sky; and by the time that
Albert Maurice emerged from the forest of Hannut, which then extended
to within a mile of the village, the air was all rosy with the dawn of
day. Just as he was issuing forth from the woodland, he perceived
before him a stout, short, round figure, clothed in a long grey gown,
the cowl or hood of which was thrown back upon his shoulders, leaving
a polished bald head to shine uncovered in the rays of the morning;
and the young fugitive paused to examine the person whom he had by
this time nearly overtaken.
The monk, for so he appeared to be, was mounted on a stout, fat mule,
whose grey skin, and sleek, rotund limbs, gave him a ridiculous
likeness to his rider, which was increased by a sort of vacant
sentimentality that appeared in the round face of the monk, and the
occasional slow raising and dropping of one of the mule's ears, in a
manner which bears no other epithet but the very colloquial one of
_lack-a-daiscal_.
According to the instructions he had received, the young burgher
immediately rode up to the monk, and addressed him with the "Good
morrow, Father Barnabas," which he had been directed to employ.
"Good morrow, my son," replied the monk; "though unhappily for me,
sinner that I am, my patron saint is a less distinguished one than him
whose name you give me; I am called Father Charles, not Father
Barnabas."
As he thus spoke he looked up in the young traveller's face with an
air of flat unmeaningness, which would at once have convinced Albert
Maurice that he was mistaken in the person, had he not discovered a
small ray of more intellectual expression beam the next moment through
the dull, grey eye of the monk, while something curled, and just
curled, the corners of his mouth with what did not deserve the name of
a smile, and yet was far too faint for a grin.
"Well," said he, eyeing him keenly, "if your name be not Barnabas,
good father, I will give you good morrow once more, and ride on."
"Good morrow, my son," replied the monk, with the same demure smile;
and Albert Maurice, to be as good as his word, put his horse into a
trot, in order to make the best of his way towards Mierdorp, which was
lying in the fresh, sweet light of morning, at the distance of about
three quarters of a mile before him. To his surprise, however, the
monk's mule, without any apparent effort of its rider, the moment he
quickened his horse's pace, put itself into one of those long, easy
ambles for which mules are famous, and without difficulty carried its
master on by his side.
"You are in haste, my son," said the monk: "whither away so fast?"
"I go to seek Father Barnabas," replied the young burgher, somewhat
provoked, but yet half laughing at the quiet merriment of the monk's
countenance as he rode along beside him on his mule, with every limb
as round as if he had been formed out of a series of pumpkins.
"Well, well," rejoined the monk, "perhaps I may aid you in your
search; but what wouldst thou with Father Barnabas, when thou hast
found him? Suppose I were Father Barnabas now, what wouldst thou say
to me?"
"I would say nothing," answered Albert Maurice; "but--let us on our
way."
"So be it, then," replied the other; "but one thing, good brother, it
does not become me to go jaunting over the country with profane
laymen; therefore if we are to journey forward together, you must don
the frock, and draw the hood over your head, to hide that curly black
hair. So turn your horse's bridle rein before we get into the village,
and behind those old hawthorn bushes, I will see whether my wallet
does not contain the wherewithal to make thee as good a monk as
myself."
As it now became sufficiently evident to the young citizen that he was
not deceived in the person whom he had addressed, he acquiesced in his
proposal; and turning down a little lane to their right hand, they
dismounted from their beasts behind a small, thick clump of aged
thorns, and the monk soon produced, from a large leathern wallet which
he carried behind him, a grey gown, exactly similar to his own, which
completely covered and concealed the handsome form of the young
citizen. The cowl having been drawn over his head, and the frock bound
round his middle by a rope, they once more mounted; and pursuing their
way together, soon found means to turn the conversation to the direct
object which they had in view, with which it appeared the monk was
fully acquainted.
The ice having been once broken, Albert Maurice found his companion a
shrewd, intelligent man, with a strong touch of roguish humour, which,
though partly concealed under an affectation of stolidity, had grown
into such a habit of jesting, that it seemed scarcely possible to
ascertain when he was serious, and when he was not. This, however,
might be, in some degree, assumed; for it is wonderful how often deep
feelings and deep designs, intense affection, towering ambition, and
even egregious cunning itself, attempt to cover themselves by
different shades of playful gaiety, knowing that the profundity of a
deep stream is often hidden by the light ripple on its surface.
However that might be, the young citizen's new companion was anything
but wanting in sense, and proved of the greatest assistance to him, by
his keen foresight and knowledge of the world.
With his co-operation Albert Maurice, at the little town of Gembloux,
at which he had been arrested by Maillotin du Bac, obtained full and
sufficient evidence, written down by the magistrate of the place, to
prove that the first squabble between himself and the prevot had
arisen in a wanton aggression committed by one of the soldiers of the
latter; and that before that officer had opened any of the papers in
his possession, he had sworn, with a horrible oath, that for striking
his follower, he would hang him over the gates of Ghent. All this was
attested in due form; and satisfied that half the dangers of his
situation were gone, Albert Maurice gladly turned his horse's head
towards his native place. The monk still accompanied him, saying that
he had orders not to leave him till he was safe within the walls of
Ghent: "seeing that you are such a sweet, innocent lamb," he added,
"that you are not to be trusted amongst the wolves of this world
alone."
Their journey passed over, however, without either danger or
difficulty; for though at Gembloux Albert Maurice had laid aside the
frock, as his very inquiries would of course have made his person
known, he had resumed it, by the monk's desire, as soon as they had
quitted that town; and the garb procured them a good reception in all
the places at which they paused upon the road.
As they approached Ghent, Father Barnabas thought fit to take new
precautions; and requested his young companion to make use of the mule
which he had hitherto ridden himself, while he mounted the horse. He
also drew his own cowl far over his head; nor were these steps in
vain, as they very soon had occasion to experience.
They reached the gates of Ghent towards sunset, on a fine clear
evening, and passed through many a group of peasantry, returning from
the market in the city to their rural occupations. On these the monk
showered his benedictions very liberally; but Albert Maurice remarked
that, as they approached a small party of soldiers near the gate, his
companion assumed an air of military erectness, and caused his horse
to prance and curvet like a war steed. Perhaps, had he noticed what
the keen eye of the monk had instantly perceived, that two of the
soldiers were examining them as they came up with more than ordinary
care, he might have guessed that the object of all this parade of
horsemanship was to draw attention upon himself, as a skilful conjurer
forces those to whom he offers the cards to take the very one he
wishes, without their being conscious of his doing so.
"Ventre Saint Gris!" cried one of the soldiers to the other, as they
came near. "It must be him! That is no monk, Jenkin! He rides like a
reiter--Pardi! I will see, however. Father, your cowl is awry!" he
added, laying his hand upon the monk's bridle rein, and snatching at
his hood as if for the sake of an insolent joke. The cowl instantly
fell back under his hand, exposing the fat bald head of the friar; and
the soldier, with a broad laugh, retired, disappointed, amongst his
companions, suffering the young citizen, who, on the still, quiet
mule, had escaped without observation, to proceed with the monk to the
dwelling of good Martin Fruse, which they reached without further
annoyance or interruption.