Although the soldiers that Albert Maurice and his companion had passed
at the gate, with the usual reckless gaiety of their profession, had
been found laughing lightly, and jesting with each other, yet it soon
became evident to the eyes of the travellers, as they passed onward
through the long irregular streets of the city, that something had
occurred to affect the population of Ghent in an unusual manner.
Scarce a soul was seen abroad; and there was a sort of boding calmness
in the aspect of the whole place, as they rode on, which taught them
to expect important tidings of some kind, from the first friend they
should meet. The misty evening sunshine streamed down the far
perspective of the streets, casting long and defined shadows from the
fountains and the crosses, and also from the houses, that every here
and there obtruded their insolent gables beyond the regular line of
the other buildings; but no lively groups were seen amusing themselves
at the corners, or by the canals; no sober citizens sitting out before
their doors, in all the rich and imposing colours of Flemish costume,
to enjoy the cool tranquillity of the evening, after the noise, and
the bustle, and the heat of an active summer's day. One or two
persons, indeed, might be observed with their heads close together,
and the important forefinger laid with all the energy of demonstration
in the palm of the other hand, while the party gossiped eagerly over
some great event, each one fancying himself fit to lead hosts and to
govern kingdoms; and every now and then some rapid figure, with
consequence in all its steps, was remarked flitting from house to
house, the receptacle and carrier of all the rumours of the day.
Though in one of the last named class of personages whom Albert
Maurice met as he advanced, he recognised an acquaintance, yet, for
many reasons, he only drew the cowl more completely over his face;
and, secure in the concealment of the monk's frock that covered him,
rode on, till he reached the house of his uncle, Martin Fruse, which
he judged to be a more secure asylum than his own, till such time as
his resolutions were taken, and his plans arranged.
The dwelling of the worthy burgher, though occupying no inconsiderable
part of one of the principal streets, had its private entrance in a
narrower one branching to the south-west; and the tall houses on
either hand, acting as complete screens between the portal and the
setting sun, gave at least an hour's additional darkness to the hue of
evening.
So deep, indeed, was the gloom, and so completely did the friar's gown
conceal the person of Albert Maurice, that one of his old uncle's
servants, who was standing in the entrance, did not in any degree
recognise his young master, though it was his frequent boast that he
had borne the young citizen--the pink of the youth of Ghent--upon his
knee a thousand times when he was no higher than an ell wand. Even the
familiar stride with which Albert Maurice entered the long, dark
passage, as soon as he had dismounted from his mule, did not undeceive
him; and he ran forward into the large sitting room, which lay at the
end of the vestibule, announcing that two monks, somewhat of the
boldest, had just alighted at the door.
He was followed straight into the apartment of Martin Fruse by that
worthy citizen's nephew, who immediately found himself in the midst of
half a dozen of the richest burghers of the town, enjoying an hour of
social converse with their wealthy neighbour before they retired to
their early rest. It would seem to belong more to the antiquary than
to the historian to describe the appearance of the chamber, or the
dress of the personages who were seated on benches around it; and it
may suffice to say, that the furred gowns, and gold chains, which
decorated the meeting, sufficiently evinced the municipal dignity of
the guests.
At the moment of his nephew's entrance, Martin Fruse was upon his
feet, following round a serving boy, who, with a small silver cup, and
flask of the same metal, was distributing to each of the burghers a
modicum of a liquour, now, alas! too common, but which was then lately
invented, and was known, from the many marvellous qualities attributed
to it, by the name of _eau de vie_.
"Take but one small portion," said the worthy citizen to one of his
companions, who made some difficulty; "not more than a common
spoonful. Do not the best leeches in Europe recommend it as a
sovereign cure for all diseases, and a preservation against bad air?
It warms the stomach, strengthens the bones, clears the head, and
promotes all the functions. And, truly, these are sad and troublous
times, wherein cordials are necessary, and every man requires such
consolation as he can find. Alack, and a well-a-day! who would have
thought----"
But the speech of good Martin Fruse was brought to a sudden conclusion
by the entrance of his man, announcing the coming of the two monks;
which notice was scarcely given, when Albert Maurice himself appeared.
Before entering, the young citizen had paused one moment to cast off
the friar's gown, on account of the strange voices he heard as he
advanced along the passage, and he now showed himself in his usual
travelling dress, though his apparel was somewhat disarranged, and he
appeared without cap or bonnet.
"Welcome, welcome, my fair nephew!" cried Martin Fruse, who looked
upon Albert with no small pride and deference. "Sirs, here is my
nephew Albert, come, at a lucky hour, to give us his good counsel and
assistance in the strange and momentous circumstances in which we are
placed."
"Welcome, most welcome, good Master Maurice!" cried a number of voices
at once. "Welcome, most welcome!" and the young traveller, instantly
surrounded by his fellow-citizens, was eagerly congratulated on his
return, which had apparently been delayed longer than they had
expected or had wished. At the same time, the often repeated words,
"Perilous times, extraordinary circumstances, dangers to the state,
anxious expectations," and a number of similar expressions, showed him
that the opinion he had formed, from the appearance of the town as he
passed through the streets, was perfectly correct, and that some
events of general and deep importance had taken place.
"I see," he said, in reply, after having answered their first
salutations, "I see that something must have occurred with which I am
unacquainted. Remember, my good friends, that I have been absent from
the city for some weeks; and, for the last four or five days, I have
been in places where I was not likely to hear any public tidings."
"What!" cried one, "have you not heard the news? that the duke has
been beaten near the lake of Neufchatel, and all the forces with which
he was besieging Morat, have been killed or taken?"
"How!" exclaimed another, "have you not heard that the Duke of Lorrain
is advancing towards Flanders with all speed?"
"Some say he will be at Ghent in a week," cried a third.
"But the worst news of all," said a fourth, in a solemn and mysterious
tone, "is, that a squire, who arrived at the palace last night, saw
the duke stricken from his horse by a Swiss giant with a two-handed
sword; and, according to all accounts, he never rose again."
"Good God! is it possible?" exclaimed Albert Maurice, as all these
baleful tidings poured in at once upon his ear, with a rapidity which
afforded him scarcely an opportunity of estimating the truth of each
as he received it, and left him no other feeling for the time than
pain at the ocean of misfortunes which had overwhelmed his country,
though he looked upon the prince, who had immediately suffered, as a
brutal despot; and upon the nobles, who in general bore the brunt of
battle or defeat, as a number of petty tyrants more insupportable than
one great one. "Good God! is it possible?" he exclaimed: "but are you
sure, my friends," he continued, after a moment's pause, "that all
this news is true? Rumour is apt to exaggerate, and increases evil
tidings tenfold, where she only doubles good news? Are these reports
quite sure?"
"Oh! they are beyond all doubt," replied one of the merchants, with a
slight curl of the lip. "The Lord of Imbercourt, who was on his march
to join the army, when he was found by couriers bearing these evil
tidings, returned with his spears in all haste to Ghent, in order to
guard against any disturbance, as he said, and to keep the rebellious
commons under the rule of law."
The man who spoke thus, was a small, dark, insignificant looking
person, whose figure would not have attracted a moment's attention,
and whose face might have equally passed without notice, had not the
keen sparkling light of two clear black eyes, which seemed to wander
constantly about in search of other people's thoughts, given at least
some warning that there was a subtle, active, and intriguing soul
concealed within that diminutive and unprepossessing form. His name
was Ganay: by profession he was a druggist, and the chief, in that
city, of a trade, which differed considerably from that of the
druggist of the present day. It was, indeed, one of no small
importance in a great manufacturing town like Ghent, where all the
different fabrics required, more or less, some of those ingredients
which he imported from foreign countries.
In pronouncing the last words, "to keep the rebellious commons under
the rule of law," Master Ganay fixed his keen black eyes upon the face
of Albert Maurice with an expression of inquiring eagerness, partly
proceeding from an anxious desire to see into the heart of the young
citizen, whose character the other fully estimated; partly from a
design to lead him, by showing him what was expected from him, to say
something which might discover his views and feelings.
He was deceived, however; the very knowledge that his words were to be
marked, put the young citizen upon his guard; and, conscious that
there were mighty events gathering round, that his own situation was
precarious, and that of his country still more so, he felt the
necessity of obtaining perfect certainty with regard to the facts, and
of indulging deep reflection in regard to the consequences, before he
committed himself in the irretrievable manner which is sometimes
effected by a single word.
"Ha!" he exclaimed; "ha! did he say so?" and he was about to drop the
dangerous part of the subject, by some common observation, when
another of the burghers changed the immediate topic of conversation,
from the higher and more important themes which had been lately before
them, to matters much more familiar to the thoughts of the citizens.
"But there is more intelligence still, good Master Albert Maurice,"
exclaimed a little fat merchant, whose face expressed all that
extravagant desire of wondering, and of exciting wonder, which goes
greatly to form the character of a newsmonger; "but there is more
intelligence still, which you will be delighted to hear, as a good
citizen, and a friend to honest men. That pitiful, prying,
bloodthirsty tyrant, Maillotin du Bac, was brought into the town
to-day in a litter, beaten so sorely, that they say there is not a
piece of his skin so big as a Florence crown which is not both black
and blue. Faith, I wonder that the honest men of the wood did not hang
him to one of their own trees."
"Ha!" again exclaimed Albert Maurice, but in a tone far more raised
with surprise than before, "how did he meet with such a mishap? He
boasted that he would not leave a _routier_, or a free companion in
the land."
A low chuckle just behind him, as he pronounced these words, recalled
suddenly to his memory, that he had been followed into the room by the
monk called Father Barnabas; and, congratulating himself that he had
suffered not a syllable to escape his lips that might commit him in
any degree, he turned towards the companion of his journey, who, in
the haste and confusion with which all these tidings had been poured
forth upon him, had been forgotten by himself and overlooked by the
others.
A few sentences in explanation of his appearance, and in general
reference to great services received from him on the road, instantly
called upon Father Barnabas the good-humoured civilities and attention
of Martin Fruse, and might have turned the conversation to other
matters, had not the monk himself seemed determined to hear more of
the drubbing which had been bestowed upon Maillotin du Bac.
"Verily, poor gentleman," he exclaimed, in a tone in which the
merriment so far predominated over the commiseration, as to render it
much more like the voice of malice than of pity; "verily, poor
gentleman, he must be in a sad case. How met he with such a terrible
accident?"
"Why, father, you shall hear," replied the newsmonger, eager to
disburden his wallet of information upon a new ear; "what I am going
to tell you is quite true, I can assure you, for my maid Margaret's
sister is going to be married to one of the soldiers of the Prevot's
band. It seems that they had searched the forest of Hannut all day in
vain, for a body of the green riders who had taken refuge there, and
also for a prisoner who had made his escape; and towards night they
were making for Hal, because they would not go back to Hannut, as the
Prevot had some quarrel with the chatelain, when suddenly, in the
little wood, near Braine-la-Leud, they were met by a party of fifty
free companions, who drew up right across their way. The captain, who,
they say, was the famous Vert Gallant of Hannut himself, singled out
the Prevot, and at the very first charge of the two bands brought him
to the ground with his lance. Du Bac, however, was not hurt, and at
first refused to yield; but the Vert Gallant cudgelled him with the
staff of his lance, till there was not a piece of his armour would
hold together. He would not kill him, it seems; and when the whole of
the band were dispersed, which they were in five minutes, with the
exception of five or six who were taken prisoners, the Vert Gallant
struck off the Prevot's spurs with his axe, and, telling him that he
was a false traitor, and no true knight, sent him back to Ghent, with
all the others who had been taken."
While the burgher was detailing these particulars, the small grey
roguish eyes of the monk stole from time to time a glance at the face
of Albert Maurice with an expression of merriment, triumph, and
malice, all mingled intimately together, but subdued into a look of
quiet fun, which elicited a smile from the lip of the young citizen,
though the tale he had just heard furnished him with matter for more
serious reflection. The eyes of the druggist also fixed upon him,
while the story of the prevot's discomfiture was told by their
companion; and the smile which he saw play upon the face of the young
burgher seemed to furnish him with information of what was passing in
the mind within, sufficient at least for his own purposes; for from
that moment he appeared to pay little farther attention to the subject
before them, otherwise than by mingling casually in the conversation
that succeeded.
That conversation became soon of a rambling and desultory nature,
wandering round the great political events of the day, the fate of
their country, the state of the city itself, and the future prospects
of the land, without, however, approaching so near to the dangerous
matter which was probably in the heart of every one, as to call forth
words that could not be retracted. In fact, each person present felt
burdened by great but ill-arranged thoughts; and those who saw most
deeply into the abyss before them, were the least inclined to venture
their opinions ere they heard those of others.
With that sort of intuitive perception which some men have of what
is passing in the breasts of those around them, Albert Maurice,
without the slightest exertion of cunning or shrewdness, without one
effort to draw forth the thoughts of those by whom he was surrounded,
comprehended clearly the peculiar modifications under which each one
present was revolving in his own mind what advantages might be derived
from--what opportunities might be afforded by--the discomfiture and
death of Charles the Bold, for recovering those immunities and
privileges which that prince had wrung from Ghent, after they had been
too often abused by her citizens. His first thought had been of the
same nature also: but the mention of Maillotin du Bac had suddenly
recalled to his mind his own particular circumstances and situation;
and it must be confessed, that, for a few minutes, it was entirely
directed to the consideration of how greatly his own personal safety
might be ensured by the events, the news of which had reached Ghent
during his absence.
The moment after, however, he upbraided himself for his selfishness;
and, casting all individual considerations away, he determined to bend
the whole energies of his mind to reap, from the circumstances of the
times, the greatest possible degree of benefit for his native city. As
he pondered over it, the old aspirations of his soul revived. Not only
Ghent, he thought, might be benefited, not only Ghent might be freed,
but the whole of Flanders might acquire a degree of liberty she had
never known. Still, as he reflected, the image thus presented to his
mind increased, and, like the cloud of smoke in the eastern fable,
which, rolling forth from the mouth of the small vase, gradually
condensed into the form of an enormous giant, the thoughts which at
first had referred alone to his personal safety enlarged in object,
and grew defined in purpose.
The whole continent at that time groaned under the oppression of the
feudal system, decayed, corrupted, and abused; and as Albert Maurice
mused, he fancied that the freedom of Ghent and Flanders once
established, might afford an example to France, to Europe, to the
world. The trampled serf, the enchained bondsman, the oppressed
citizen, might throw off the weary yoke under which they had laboured
for ages; the rights of every human being might become generally
recognised over the whole surface of the globe; and broken chains and
acclamations of joy, the song of freedom and the shout of triumph,
presented themselves in hurried visions to his imagination, while
patriotism still represented a liberated world hailing his native land
as the champion of the liberty of earth.
Such thoughts rendered him silent and abstracted; and as every one
else felt a degree of painful restraint, the various guests of Martin
Fruse, after lingering some time, rose to return to their dwellings.
Although it was now night, several of them, before they set foot
within their own homes, called upon different neighbours in their way,
just to tell them, as they said, that Master Albert Maurice had
returned to Ghent. None knew why; but yet this information seemed a
piece of important news to all. By the sway which great natural genius
and energy insensibly acquire over the minds of men, Albert Maurice,
without ever attempting to force himself into prominent situations,
without effort or exertions of any kind, had taught the whole people
of the city of Ghent to look to him for extraordinary actions; and
thus each man who heard of his arrival, generally stole forth to tell
it to his next door neighbour, who again repeated it to a third. The
gossip and the newsmonger gave it forth liberally to others like
themselves; so that by a very early hour the next morning the return
of Albert Maurice, with a variety of falsehoods and absurdities
grafted thereon by the imaginations of the retailers, was generally
known, not only to those who were personally acquainted with him, but
to a number of others who had never seen him in their lives.