CHAPTER XIV.

Maria had not mounted the stairs so joyously for weeks as she did to-day.

She would have sung, had it been seemly, though she felt a little

anxious; for perhaps her husband would not think she had done right to

invite, on her own authority, a stranger, especially a sick stranger, who

was a friend of Spain, to be their guest.

As she passed the dining-room, she heard the gentlemen consulting

together. Then Peter began to speak. She noticed the pleasant depth of

his voice, and said to herself that Henrica would like to hear it. A few

minutes after she entered the apartment, to greet her husband's guests,

who were also hers. Joyous excitement and the rapid walk through the air

of the May evening, which, though the day had been warm, was still cool,

had flushed her cheeks and, as she modestly crossed the threshold with a

respectful greeting, which nevertheless plainly revealed the pleasure

afforded by the visit of such guests, she looked so winning and lovely,

that not a single person present remained unmoved by the sight. The

older Herr Van der Does clapped Peter on the shoulder and then struck the

palm of his hand with his fist, as if to say: "I won't question that!"

Janus Dousa whispered gaily to Van Hout, who was a good Latin scholar:

"Oculi sunt in amore duces."

Captain Allertssohn started up and raised his hand to his hat with a

military salute; Van Bronkhorst, the Prince's Commissioner, gave

expression to his feelings in a courtly bow, Doctor Bontius smiled

contentedly, like a person who has successfully accomplished a hazardous

enterprise, and Peter proudly and happily strove to attract his wife's

attention to himself. But this was not to be, for as soon as Maria

perceived that she was the mark for so many glances, she lowered her eyes

with a deep blush, and then said far more firmly than would have been

expected from her timid manner:

"Welcome, gentlemen! My greeting comes late, but I would have gladly

offered it earlier."

"I can bear witness to that," cried Doctor Bontius, rising and shaking

hands with Maria more cordially than ever before. Then he motioned

towards Peter, and exclaimed to the assembled guests: "Will you excuse

the burgomaster for a moment?"

As soon as he stood apart with the husband and wife at the door, he

began:

"You have invited a new visitor to the house, Frau Van der Werff; I won't

drink another drop of Malmsey, if I'm mistaken."

"How do you know?" asked Maria gaily. "I see it in your face."

"And the young lady shall be cordially welcome to me," added Peter.

"Then you know?" asked Maria.

The doctor did not conceal his conjecture from me."

"Why yes, the sick girl will be glad to come to us, and to-morrow--"

"No, I'll send for her to-day," interrupted Peter. "To-day?" But dear

me! It's so late; perhaps she is asleep, the gentlemen are here, and our

spare bed--" exclaimed Maria, glancing disapprovingly and irresolutely

from the physician to her husband.

"Calm yourself; child," replied Peter. "The doctor has ordered a covered

litter from St. Catharine's hospital, Jan and one of the city-guard will

carry her, and Barbara has nothing more to do in the kitchen and is now

preparing her own chamber for her."

"And," chimed in the physician, "perhaps the sick girl may find sleep

here. Besides, it will he far more agreeable to her pride to be carried

through the streets unseen, under cover of the darkness."

"Yes, yes," said Maria sadly, "that may be so; but I had been thinking--

People ought not to do anything too hastily."

"Will you be glad to receive the young lady as a guest?" asked Peter.

"Why, certainly."

"Then we won't do things by halves, but show her all the kindness in our

power. There is Barbara beckoning; the litter has come, Doctor. Guide

the nocturnal procession in God's name, but don't keep us waiting too

long."

The burgomaster returned to his seat, and Bontius left the room.

Maria followed him. In the entry, he laid his hand on her arm and asked:

"Will you know next time, what I expect from you?"

"No," replied the burgomaster's wife, in a tone which sounded gay, though

it revealed the disappointment she felt; "no--but you have taught me that

you are a man who understands how to spoil one's best pleasures."

"I will procure you others," replied the doctor laughing and descended

the stairs. He was Peter's oldest friend, and had made many objections

to the burgomaster's marriage with a girl so many years his junior, in

these evil times, but to-day he showed himself satisfied with Van der

Werff's choice.

Maria returned to the guests, filled and offered glasses of wine to the

gentlemen, and then went to her sister-in-law's room, to help her prepare

everything for the sick girl as well as possible. She did not do so

unwillingly, but it seemed as if she would have gone to the work with

far greater pleasure early the next morning.

Barbara's spacious chamber looked out upon the court-yard. No sound

could be heard there of the conversation going on between the gentlemen

in the dining-room, yet it was by no means quiet among these men who,

though animated by the same purpose, differed widely about the ways and

means of bringing it to a successful issue.

There they sat, the brave sons of a little nation, the stately leaders of

a small community, poor in numbers and means of defence, which had

undertaken to bid defiance to the mightiest power and finest armies of

its age. They knew that the storm-clouds, which had been threatening for

weeks on the horizon, would rise faster and faster, mass together, and

burst in a furious tempest over Leyden, for Herr Van der Werff had

summoned them to his house because a letter addressed to himself and

Commissioner Van Bronkhorst by the Prince, contained tidings, that the

Governor of King Philip of Spain had ordered Senor del Campo Valdez to

besiege Leyden a second time and reduce it to subjection. They were

aware, that William of Orange could not raise an army to divert the

hostile troops from their aim or relieve the city before the lapse of

several months; they had experienced how little aid was to be expected

from the Queen of England and the Protestant Princes of Germany, while

the horrible fate of Haarlem, a neighboring and more powerful city, rose

as a menacing example before their eyes. But they were conscious of

serving a good cause, relied upon the faith, courage and statesmanship of

Orange, were ready to die rather than allow themselves to be enslaved

body and soul by the Spanish tyrant. Their belief in God's justice was

deep and earnest, and each individual possessed a joyous confidence in

his own resolute, manly strength.

In truth, the men who sat around the table, so daintily decked with

flowers by a woman's hand, understood how to empty the large fluted

goblets so nimbly, that jug after jug of Peter's Malmsey and Rhine

wine were brought up from the cellar, the men who made breaches in the

round pies and huge joints of meat, juicier and more nourishing than any

country except theirs can furnish--did not look as if pallid fear had

brought them together.

The hat is the sign of liberty, and the free man keeps his hat on. So

some of the burgomaster's guests sat at the board with covered heads, and

how admirably the high plaited cap of dark-red velvet, with its rich

ornaments of plumes, suited the fresh old face of the senior Seigneur of

Nordwyk and the clever countenance of his nephew Janus Dousa; how well

the broad-brimmed hat with blue and orange ostrich-feathers--the colors

of the House of Orange--became the waving locks of the young Seigneur of

Warmond, Jan Van Duivenvoorde. How strongly marked and healthful were

the faces of the other men assembled here! Few countenances lacked ruddy

color, and strong vitality, clear intellect, immovable will and firm

resolution flashed from many blue eyes around the table. Even the black-

robed magistrates, whose plaited ruffs and high white collars were very

becoming, did not look as if the dust of documents had injured their

health. The moustaches and beards on the lips of each, gave them also a

manly appearance. They were all joyously ready to sacrifice themselves

and their property for a great spiritual prize, yet looked as if they had

a firm foothold in the midst of life; their hale, sensible faces showed

no traces of enthusiasm; only the young Seigneur of Warmond's eyes

sparkled with a touch of this feeling, while Janus Dousa's glance often

seemed turned within, to seek things hidden in his own heart; and at such

moments his sharply-cut, irregular features possessed a strange charm.

The broad, stout figure of Commissioner Van Bronkhorst occupied a

great deal of room. His body was by no means agile, but from the round,

closely shaven head looked forth a pair of prominent eyes, that expressed

unyielding resolution.

The brightly-lighted table, around which such guests had gathered,

presented a gay, magnificent spectacle. The yellow leather of the

doublets worn by Junker von Warmond, Colonel Mulder, and Captain

Allertssohn, the colored silk scarfs that adorned them, and the scarlet

coat of brave Dirk Smaling contrasted admirably with the deep black robes

of Pastor Verstroot, the burgomaster, the city clerk, and their

associates! The violet of the commissioner's dress and the dark hues of

the fur-bordered surcoats worn by the elder Herr Van der Does and Herr

Van Montfort blended pleasantly and harmonized the light and dark shades.

Everything sorrowful seemed to have been banished far from this

brilliant, vigorous round table, so words flowed freely and voices

sounded full and strong enough.

Danger was close at hand. The Spanish vanguard might appear before

Leyden any day. Many preparations were made. English auxiliaries were

to garrison the fortifications of Alfen and defend the Gouda lock. The

defensive works of Valkenburg had been strengthened and entrusted to

other British troops, the city soldiers, the militia and volunteers were

admirably drilled. They did not wish to admit foreign troops within the

walls, for during the first siege they had proved far more troublesome

than useful, and there was little reason to fear that a city guarded by

water, walls and trees would be taken by storm.

What most excited the gentlemen was the news Van Hout had brought. Rich

Herr Baersdorp, one of the four burgomasters, who had the largest grain

business in Leyden, had undertaken to purchase considerable quantities of

bread-stuffs in the name of the city. Several ship loads of wheat and

rye had been delivered by him the day before, but he was still in arrears

with three-quarters of what was ordered. He openly said that he had as

yet given no positive orders for it, because owing to the prospect of a

good harvest, a fall in the price of grain was expected in the exchanges

of Rotterdam and Amsterdam, and he would still have several weeks time

before the commencement of the new blockade.

Van Hout was full of indignation, especially as two out of the four

burgomasters sided with their colleague Baersdorp.

The elder Herr von Nordwyk agreed with him, exclaiming:

"With all due respect to your dignity, Herr Peter, your three companions

in office belong to the ranks of bad friends, who would willingly be

exchanged for open enemies."

"Herr von Noyelles," said Colonel Mulder, "has written about them to the

Prince, the good and truthful words, that they ought to be sent to the

gallows."

"And they will suit them," cried Captain Allertssohn, "so long as

hangmen's nooses and traitors' necks are made for each other."

"Traitors--no," said Van der Werff resolutely. Call them cowards,

call them selfish and base-minded--but not one of them is a Judas."

"Right, Meister Peter, that they certainly are not, and perhaps even

cowardice has nothing to do with their conduct," added Herr von Nordwyk.

"Whoever has eyes to see and ears to hear, knows the views of the

gentlemen belonging to the old city families, who are reared from infancy

as future magistrates; and I speak not only of Leyden, but the residents

of Gouda and Delft, Rotterdam and Dortrecht. Among a hundred, sixty

would bear the Spanish yoke, even do violence to conscience, if only

their liberties and rights were guaranteed. The cities must rule and

they themselves in them; that is all they desire. Whether people preach

sermons or read mass in the church, whether a Spaniard or a Hollander

rules, is a matter of secondary importance to them. I except the present

company, for you would not be here, gentlemen, if your views were similar

to those of the men of whom I speak."

"Thanks for those words," said Dirk Smaling, "but with all due honor to

your opinion, you have painted matters in too dark colors. May I ask if

the nobles do not also cling to their rights and liberties?"

"Certainly, Herr Dirk; but they are commonly of longer date than yours,"

replied Van Bronkhorst. "The nobleman needs a ruler. He is a lustreless

star, if the sun that lends him light is lacking. I, and with me all the

nobles who have sworn fealty to him, now believe that our sun must and

can be no other person than the Prince of Orange, who is one of

ourselves, knows, loves, and understands us; not Philip, who has no

comprehension of what is passing within and around us, is a foreigner and

detests us. We will uphold William with our fortunes and our lives for,

as I have already said, we need a sun, that is, a monarch--but the cities

think they have power to shine and wish to be admired as bright stars

themselves. True, they feel that, in these troublous times, the country

needs a leader, and that they can find no better, wiser and more faithful

one than Orange; but if it comes to pass--and may God grant it--that the

Spanish yoke is broken, the noble William's rule will seem wearisome,

because they enjoy playing sovereign themselves. In short: the cities

endure a ruler, the nobles gather round him and need him. No real good

will be accomplished until noble, burgher and peasant cheerfully yield to

him, and unite to battle under his leadership for the highest blessings

of life."

"Right," said Van flout. "The well-disposed nobility may well serve as

an example to the governing classes here and in the other cities, but the

people, the poor hard-working people, know what is coming and, thank God,

have not yet lost a hearty love for what you call the highest blessings

of life. They wish to be and remain Hollanders, curse the Spanish

butchers with eloquent hatred, desire to serve God according to the

yearning of their own souls, and believe what their own hearts dictate-

and these men call the Prince their Father William. Wait a little! As

soon as trouble oppresses us, the poor and lowly will stand firm, if the

rich and great waver and deny the good cause."

"They are to be trusted," said Van der Werff, "firmly trusted."

"And because I know them," cried Van Hout, "we shall conquer, with God's

assistance, come what may." Janus Dousa had been looking into his glass.

Now he raised his head and with a hasty gesture, said:

"Strange that those who toil for existence with their hands, and whose

uncultured brains only move when their daily needs require it, are most

ready to sacrifice the little they possess, for spiritual blessings."

"Yes," said the pastor, "the kingdom of heaven stands open to the simple-

hearted. It is strange that the poor and unlearned value religion,

liberty and their native land far more than the perishable gifts of this

world, the golden calf around which the generations throng."

"My companions are not flattered to-day," replied Dirk Smaling; "but I

beg you to remember in our favor, that we are playing a great and

dangerous game, and property-holders must supply the lion's share

of the stake."

"By no means," retorted Van Hout, "the highest stake for which the die

will be cast is life, and this has the same value to rich and poor.

Those who will hold back--I think I know them--have no plain motto or

sign, but a proud escutcheon over their doors. Let us wait."

"Yes, let us wait," said Van der Werff; "but there are more important

matters to be considered now. Day after to-morrow will be Ascension Day,

when the bells will ring for the great fair. More than one foreign

trader and traveller has passed through the gates yesterday and the day

before. Shall we order the booths to be set up, or have the fair

deferred until some other time? If the enemy hastens his march, there

will be great confusion, and we shall perhaps throw a rich prize into his

hands. Pray give me your opinion, gentlemen."

"The traders ought to be protected from loss and the fair postponed,"

said Dirk Smaling.

"No," replied Van Hout, "for if this prohibition is issued, we shall

deprive the small merchants of considerable profit and prematurely damp

their courage."

"Let them have their festival," cried Janus Dousa. "We mustn't do coming

trouble the favor of spoiling the happy present on its account. If you

want to act wisely, follow the advice of Horace."

"The Bible also teaches that 'sufficient unto the day is the evil

thereof,'" added the pastor, and Captain Allertssohn exclaimed:

"On my life, yes! My soldiers, the city-guard and volunteers must have

their parade. Marching in full uniform, with all their weapons, while

beautiful eyes smile upon them, the old wave greetings, and children run

before with exultant shouts, a man learns to feel himself a soldier for

the first time."

So it was determined to let the fair be held. While other questions were

being eagerly discussed, Henrica found a loving welcome in Barbara's

pleasant room. When she had fallen asleep, Maria went back to her

guests, but did not again approach the table; for the gentlemen's cheeks

were flushed and they were no longer speaking in regular order, but each

was talking about whatever he choose. The burgomaster was discussing

with Van Hout and Van Bronkhorst the means of procuring a supply of grain

for the city, Janus Dousa and Herr von Warmond were speaking of the poem

the city clerk had repeated at the last meeting of the poets' club, Herr

Van der Does senior and the pastor were arguing about the new rules of

the church, and stout Captain Allertssohn, before whom stood a huge

drinking-horn drained to the dregs, had leaned his forehead on Colonel

Mulder's shoulder and, as usual when he felt particularly happy over his

wine, was shedding tears.

The Burgomaster's Wife — Volume 03 · 第 2 / 7 章