SAVING A VICTIM
Ned slept for some hours. When he woke he heard the landlord talking
in loud tones in the passage outside. "I tell you, wife it is a
burning shame. Mynheer Von Bost has never done a soul harm in his
life. He has always been ready to open his purse strings in case
of distress; he is a man that does not meddle in any way with
politics. It is true that he does not go to mass, but that hurts
no one; and there is many a ne'er-do-well in the village who never
darkens the church door. If he prefers to pray in his own house
and in his own way, what matter is it to any one? His cloth mill
gives employment to half the village. What we shall do if it is shut
up I am sure I don't know. But what do they care for the village?
Mynheer Von Bost is a Protestant and a rich man--that is quite
enough for the Blood Council; so he and his pretty young wife are
to be dragged off and executed."
"What is that?" Ned asked, opening the door. "Can't the Blood
Council even leave your quiet village alone?"
"They can leave nothing alone," the landlord said bitterly. "An
hour ago four of their officials rode up, under one of the agents
of the Council--a squint eyed villain. They stopped at the door
and asked for the house of Mynheer Von Bost, and then rode off,
and half an hour afterwards one of the servants ran down into the
village with the news that her master and mistress had been arrested,
and that they were to be taken to Antwerp to be executed; for that,
as it seems, they had already been tried without their knowing
anything about it."
Ned started when he heard the landlord describe the leader of the
party. This, then, accounted for Genet's presence at Antwerp; he had
been sent from Brussels to arrest this cloth manufacturer. He had
evidently succeeded in establishing his identity late in the evening
or at early morning, and guessing that Ned would have ridden on
without loss of time after setting the soldiers on to assault him,
had proceeded to carry out the mission with which he was charged.
"The villagers would tear the villain limb from limb if they dared,"
the landlord went on.
"Why don't they dare?" Ned asked.
"Why? Why, because we should be having a troop of soldiers down
here in twenty-four hours, and the village would be burnt, and every
man in it, and woman too, put to death. No, no, sir; the people
here would do a good deal for Mynheer Von Bost and his wife, but
they won't risk everything."
"Would they risk anything, do you think?" Ned asked. "Are there
half a dozen men in the village, do you think, who would strike a
blow for their master, if they could do it without running the risk
you speak of?"
The landlord looked at him sharply. "This is not the time, young
sir, for men to speak before strangers about matters which may put
their neck in danger."
"You are right," Ned said; "and I do not blame you for being
discreet. I know this cross eyed man you speak of, and know that
he is the secretary of one of the most cruel and bloody of the
Council; and it was but yesterday that I escaped from his hands
almost by a miracle. And I would now, if I could, baffle the villain
again. I suppose they are still at his house?"
"They are. They have ordered breakfast to be prepared for them,
and it may be another hour before they set out."
"My plan is this, then," Ned said. "If I could get half a dozen
determined men to join me, we would go back along the road towards
Antwerp three miles or so, and lie in wait until they came along,
and then rescue their prisoners from them. If we could get a horse
for the man to ride with his wife behind him, all the better. We
could pretend to be robbers; there are plenty of starving peasants
that have been driven to that, and if we attack them three miles
away they would have no suspicion that the people of the village
had any hand in it."
"I will see about it," the landlord said warmly. "When my son-in-law's
little house was burnt down last winter, Mynheer Von Bost advanced
him money to rebuild it, and charged no interest. He lives but a
quarter of a mile out of the village, and I think he will be your
man, and would be able to lay his hands on the others. I will run
over to him and be back in a quarter of an hour."
In the meantime Ned ordered his horse to be saddled, and when the
landlord returned he was ready to start.
"My son-in-law will join you," he said. "He has two brothers whom
he will bring with him. They both work in Von Bost's factory.
He bids me tell you to go on for two miles, and to stop where the
first road comes in on the right hand side. They will join you
there, and will then go on with you as far as you may think fit.
They have got guns, so you can lie in ambush. He will bring a horse
with him with a pillion. He could have got more men, but he thinks
the fewer to know the secret the better, as there may be inquiries
here; and in these days none can trust his own neighbour. And now
farewell, young sir. I know not who you are, but you must have
a good heart to venture your life in a quarrel for people of whom
you know nothing."
"I am a Protestant myself, landlord, and I have had uncles and
other relations murdered by the Blood Council. Moreover I have a
special feud with the chief of these villains."
So saying Ned shook the landlord's hand and rode off. He halted
when he came to the point indicated. In less than half an hour he
saw three men coming from the other direction. As one of them was
leading a horse he at once rode on to meet them.
"We have made a detour through the fields," the young man leading
the horse said. "It would not have done for anyone in the village
to have seen us journeying this way."
"Quite right," Ned agreed. "There are babblers everywhere, and the
fewer who know aught of a matter like this the better. Now, where
had we best ambuscade?"
"There is a little wood by the roadside half a mile on, and we had
best move there at once, for they may be along at any time now."
Two of the men were armed with muskets, and all three carried
flails. They moved briskly forward until they got to the woods.
"You had best fasten up the horse among the trees," Ned said, "and
then take your station close to the road. I will ride out from the
trees as I come up and engage them in talk, so that you and your
brother can take a steady aim. Don't fire until you are sure of
each bringing down a man, then rush out and engage them with your
flails. I will answer for their leader myself."
"We won't miss them, never fear, young sir. We have too much practice
at the ducks in the winter to miss such a mark as that."
After seeing the horse tied up, and the men take their stations
behind trees, Ned went a few yards further and then waited the
coming of the party with the prisoners. He had not a shadow of
compunction at the fate that was about to befall these officials.
They had hauled away hundreds to the gallows, and the animosity
that prevailed between the two parties was so intense that neither
thought of sparing the other if they fell into their hands. As
for Genet, Ned felt that his own life would not be safe as long as
this man lived. He might for aught he knew have other missions of
the same nature as that he had just fulfilled, and he felt sure
that whatever disguise he might adopt this man would detect him
did they meet, and in that case not only his own life but that of
many others might be sacrificed.
In about ten minutes the sound of horses' hoofs was heard. Ned
waited till they came within a few paces, and then suddenly rode
out from the wood. Genet, who was riding ahead of the others, reined
in his horse suddenly.
"What are you doing, fellow?" he began angrily, "riding out thus
suddenly upon us?" Then his voice changed as he recognized Ned.
"What, is it you again?" he exclaimed. "This time at least you
shall not escape me."
He drew a pistol and fired. Ned was equally quick, and the two
shots rang out together. Ned's cap flew from his head, the bullet
just grazing his skin, while Genet fell forward on his saddle
and rolled to the ground, shot through the heart. Almost at the
same instant two guns were discharged from the wood, and two of
the officials fell. The other two, behind whom the prisoners were
strapped, set spurs to their horses; but Ned rode in front of them,
and the men dashing from the trees seized the reins.
"Surrender!" Ned shouted, "or you are dead men."
The two officers shouted lustily that they surrendered, but Ned
had the greatest difficulty from preventing their assailants from
knocking out their brains with their flails.
"There is no plunder to be obtained from them, comrades," he said
loudly. "They are only poor knaves riding behind the master. Get
them off their horses, and strap their hands with their own belts,
and toss them in among the trees; but you can search their pockets
before you do so. I will see what their leader has got upon him."
As soon as the two prisoners were dragged away Ned addressed Mynheer
Von Bost, who with his wife was standing almost bewildered by the
sudden event that had freed them.
"This is no robbery, Mynheer, but a rescue. We have a horse and
pillion here in the wood in readiness for you, and I should advise
you to ride at once with your wife for Sluys or some other seaport,
and thence take ship either into Holland or to England. Your lives
will assuredly be forfeited if you remain here."
"But who are you, sir, who has done us this great service?"
"I am serving under the Prince of Orange," Ned replied; "and have
been doing business for him at Brussels. I have twice narrowly
escaped with my life from the hands of the leader of that party,
and was in the village when they arrived and seized you. Finding
how deep was the regret that so kind a master should be thus led
away to execution, I determined if possible to save you, and with
the aid of these three men, two of whom are workmen of yours, and
the other a farmer you befriended last year when his house was
burnt down, we have succeeded in doing so."
The three men now came out of the wood.
"My brave fellows," the manufacturer said, "I and my wife owe our
lives to you and to this gentleman."
"You are heartily welcome, sir," the young farmer said. "You have
saved me from ruin, and one good turn deserves another. I and my
brothers were only too glad to join when we heard that this gentleman
was determined to try to release you. If it had not been for him
it would never have entered our heads till it was too late."
"May I ask your name, sir?" Von Bost said to Ned. "My wife and
I would like to know to whom we owe a lifelong debt of gratitude.
I will take your advice and ride at once for Sluys. I have many
friends there who will conceal us and get us on board a ship.
My arrangements have long been made for departure, and my capital
transferred to England; but I thought I should have had sufficient
notice of danger to take flight. Where can I hear of you, sir?"
"My name is Edward Martin. My father is an English captain,
who lives at Rotherhithe, close by London. At present, as I said,
I am in the service of the Prince of Orange; but my home is still
in England. And now, sir, I think you had best be riding at once.
I presume that there are byroads by which you can avoid passing
through any towns on your way to Sluys. It is better not to delay
a minute, for at any moment some party or other of soldiers may
come along."
The men had by this time brought out the horse. Von Bost mounted,
and his wife was assisted on to the pillion behind him.
"Goodbye, good friends," he said. "God grant that no harm come to
you for this kind deed."
The moment he had ridden off Ned and his companions lifted the
bodies of the three men who had fallen and carried them into the
wood.
"We had best turn their pockets inside out," Ned said, "and take
away everything of value upon them."
"This fellow has a well lined purse," the young farmer said as he
examined the pocket of Genet; "and here are a bundle of papers in
his doublet."
"Give me the papers," Ned said, "they may be useful to me, and
doubtless they contain lists of other victims whom I may be able
to send warning to in time for them to escape."
"What shall we do about the horses?"
"I would take off the saddles, bridles, and accouterments, throw
them into a ditch together with the men's arms and pile a few bushes
over them, then drive the horses across the fields till they reach
some grazing ground near the river; the farmers there will doubtless
appropriate them in time. Now, as to these two prisoners, they are
the only trouble."
"You need not trouble about them," the farmer said, "we have made
them safe. We are not going to risk our lives and those of our wives
and families, as we should have done if we had left those fellows
alive to identify us. There is sure to be a search sooner or later,
and those two men would have led the party to every house within
miles round, and would have been sure to recognize one or other of
us. We are ready to risk our lives to save Mynheer Von Bost, but
we are not willing to throw them away needlessly."
Ned could hardly blame the men, who had indeed stabbed their captives
the instant they dragged them among the trees, for doubtless the
risk they would have run of detection would have been great had they
permitted them to live. They had now only to regain their village
without observation and to keep their own secret, to be free from
all risk whatever. Putting Genet's papers in his doublet Ned again
mounted his horse and rode off.
Two hours later he reached St. Nicholas. He could now have ridden
straight on to Bergen op Zoom, the port at which he hoped to be able
to find a boat, but he thought that Genet's papers might contain
matters upon which it might be necessary for him to act at once.
He had now no fear of detection, for with the death of Genet all
search for himself would be at an end. Putting up his horse at an
inn he ordered a meal to be prepared at once, and calling for a
flask of wine in the meantime, sat down at a table in the corner
of the great parlour and examined the papers.
First there was a list of twelve names, among whom was that of Von
Bost. One of these, as well as that of the manufacturer, had been
crossed out. With them were official documents ordering the arrest
of the persons named, together in most cases with that of their
wives and one or more members of their family. Besides these was
a document with the seal of the Council, ordering all magistrates
and others to render every assistance required by the bearer in
carrying out the duties with which he was charged.
Then there was a long list of persons resident in St. Nicholas,
Sluys, and Axel, against whom denunciations of heresy or of suspected
disloyalty to Philip had been laid. There was a note at the bottom
of this list: "Inquire into the condition of life and probable
means of each of these suspected persons."
"It is somewhat lucky for all these people," Ned said to himself,
"that I happened to fall in with Mynheer Genet. The question now
is how to warn them. I see there are three orders of arrest against
people here, and ten names on the suspected list. At any rate I
can warn them myself."
As soon as he had finished his meal Ned inquired the addresses of
the three persons ordered to be arrested. They were all, as he had
expected, leading men in the place; for it was the confiscation of
the goods of the victims, quite as much as any question of religion
or loyalty, that was at the bottom of a large proportion of the
arrests and executions. The first Ned called upon was, like Von
Bost, a cloth manufacturer. He was rather a pompous man, and when
Ned was shown in said:
"Now, young man, my time is valuable, so let us have no useless
talking. What is it you want?"
"Your time perhaps is more valuable than you think," Ned said
quietly, "seeing that you have not got much of it left."
"What do you mean, sir?" the manufacturer said angrily.
"I mean simply this," Ned replied. "That I am the bearer of an
order of the Council for your arrest, and that of your wife, your
son Ernest, and your daughter Mary, upon the charge of having been
present and taken part in a meeting of the people of this town at
which words of treasonable character were uttered. Moreover, there
is a note at the bottom of this order saying that these charges
have been proved to the satisfaction of the Council, and that you
are accordingly to be executed upon your arrival at Antwerp, the
necessary orders having been transmitted to the governor of the
prison there."
The manufacturer sank down in a chair the picture of terror.
"I have done no harm," he stammered. "I knew not when I went to
the meeting what was going to be said there."
"What matters that?" Ned asked. "You have been tried and condemned,
and one or other of the Council has doubtless obtained the grant
of your property. Well, sir, I will not frighten you longer. This
is the document in question, but fortunately I am not the person
charged with this execution. I met him on the way and there was
a disagreement between us, and the result is that he will execute
no more orders, and his papers fell into my hands. It may be some
days before he is missed, and then doubtless someone else will be
charged to carry out the orders of which he was the bearer. This
will give you time to make preparations for flight, and I should
advise you before eight-and-forty hours are over to be on your way
towards the frontier of Germany, or on board a ship at one of the
ports. I will hand you this document in order that you may convince
your wife and family of the danger that you are all running, and
of the urgent need of haste."
Ned left at once, before the man, who was almost stupefied by the
misfortune that had befallen him, had time to utter his thanks.
He then called on the other two men against whom he bore orders of
arrest. As both received him with greater courtesy than that shown
by the first he had visited, he broke the news more gently to them,
and discussed with them the manner in which they had best make
their escape. One he found had friends and business connections
in Sluys, and doubted not that he could obtain a passage there
to Holland or England, while the other had similar connections in
Axel.
Ned handed over to them the orders for the arrest of burghers of
those towns, and these they gave him their promise to deliver, and
also either to see or to send letters warning all the persons who
were mentioned in the list of suspected. As he was anxious to get
on as soon as possible he also gave them the list of the suspected
at St. Nicholas, and these they promised also to warn; both were
profuse in their gratitude to him for having saved them from certain
death. Having thus concluded his business, Ned again mounted his
horse and rode for Bergen op Zoom, the port at which he intended,
if possible, to embark for Zeeland.
Bergen op Zoom, an important town, lay half a mile distant from the
Scheldt, and was connected with the river by a channel guarded by
two forts. There had been a strong Spanish garrison here, but it
had lately been weakened by the withdrawal of a large detachment to
take part in the successful enterprise undertaken for the relief of
Tergoes in the Island of Beveland, which was besieged by a force
from Flushing. Ned had frequently been at Bergen op Zoom in the
Good Venture, and knew that while the magistrates and wealthier
citizens were devoted to the Spanish cause the greater portion of
the inhabitants, especially the seafaring class, were patriots to
a man.
He therefore went to a small inn by the waterside, where he had
several times taken meals with his father when the ship was lying
off from the river. Seeing his horse put up in the stable he entered
the tap room. The sailors drinking there looked somewhat surprised
at the entrance of one differing much in appearance from the ordinary
customers of the place. The landlord, who was leaning against his
counter, did not advance to meet him; for strangers were by no
means popular, and a suspicion that the newcomer was a spy would
speedily empty his house. As Ned approached him he suddenly started,
and was about to speak when the lad quickly placed his finger on
his lip. He feared that the landlord was about to utter his name,
and there might, for aught he knew, be someone there who would
report it.
"How are you, landlord?" he said. "It is some time since I was here
last, and I think you had almost forgotten me." The landlord took
the hint.
"Yes, indeed," he said. "And how is your father? I have not seen
him lately, and heard that he was not well."
"No; he has been laid up for some time, but he is mending. You see
I have taken service."
"Ah, I see," the landlord said. "Well, my good wife will be glad
to see you and hear about your family." So saying he led the way
into a private room.
"Why, what means this, Master Martin?" he asked. "We heard here of
the brave fight your father's ship made some two months since with
a Spaniard in the Zuider Zee, and that he was sorely wounded. But
what means this masquerading? Surely you have not given up the
sea?"
"Only for the present," Ned replied. "You know I am Dutch on my
mother's side. All her family have been murdered by the Spaniards,
and what with that and my father being attacked and wounded, I made
up my mind to give up the sea for a time, and to help the good cause
as much as I could. I have been carrying a message to Brussels and
want now to get back to Rotterdam or some other sea port town. How
had I best do it?"
"It is not easy," the landlord replied. "Our trade is stopped here
now. The rivers swarm with craft, manned, some by the beggars of
the sea, and others by fishermen; and the Spanish ships cannot come
up save in great force. We have two or three of their warships here
which go out and skirmish with our men, and do not always get the
best of it.
"Our people did badly the other night when they let the Spaniards
wade across to Tergoes. That was a bad business. But about your
getting away. Let me see how it can be managed."
"I have got a horse here."
"That is bad," the landlord said. "You could put on sailor's clothes,
and in the morning when I send in my guest list to the magistrate,
I could put down that you had gone, but the horse would betray me.
Is it a good beast?"
"Yes, it is a very good horse. It was a present to me, and I don't
like parting with it. But of course I cannot take it away."
"I will send round word to a man I know who deals in horses. He is
one who will hold his tongue, especially when he sees an advantage
in it. I will tell him it belonged to a man who has been here and
gone away suddenly, and ask him what he will give for it, and take
it quietly away after it gets dark to his own stables, and ask no
questions about it. He will guess it belonged to somebody who has
left secretly. Of course he won't give more than half the value of
the animal; but I suppose you will not be particular about terms.
Anyhow, I will do the best I can for you. When he is once out of
the stables they may come and question as much as they like, but
they will get nothing out of me beyond the fact that a young man
came here, put up his horse, stayed the night, and left in the
morning. I suppose they have no special interest in you so as to
lead them to make a close inquiry?"
"None at all," Ned replied.
"That is settled then," the landlord said. "Now, as to yourself.
Two of my sons are at sea, you know, and I can rig you up with some
of their clothes so that you can stroll about on the wharves, and
no one will suspect you of being anything but a fisherman. Then I
will try and arrange with some of the sailors to take you down in
a boat at night, and either put you on board the first of our craft
they come upon, or land you at Flushing. Now I will take you in to
my wife, and she will see about getting you a meal and making you
comfortable."
Later on the landlord came in and said that he had made a bargain
for the horse.
"The beast is worth thirty crowns," he said, "but he will not give
more than fifteen, and it required a good deal of bargaining to
raise him to that. Of course he suspected that there was something
out of the way about the affair, and took advantage of it."
"That will do very well indeed," Ned said. "I did not expect to
get anything for it."
"I have been having a talk too with some sailors belonging to a
small craft lying at the wharf. They are most anxious to be off,
for they are idle. The order that no boats were to leave was issued
just after they came in. They have been six days doing nothing,
and may, for aught they see, be kept here for another six months.
They have been afraid to try to get away; for there are sentries
all along the wall to see that none try to put out, and some guard
boats from the Spanish ships rowing backwards and forwards outside
the port, both to see that no ships leave, and that none come up to
harm the shipping. Still they say they have been making up their
minds that they may as well stand the risk of being shot by the
Spaniards as the certainty of being starved here; besides they are
patriots, and know that their boats may be wanted at any time for
the conveyance of troops. So when I told them that I doubted not
that you would pay them well for landing you at Flushing, they
agreed to make the attempt, and will try tonight. As soon as you
have had your breakfast you had better join them in the tap room,
go out with them through the watergate, and get on board their
craft and lie snug there till night."
"How many men are there?" Ned asked.
"There are six altogether, but only two will be up here presently.
Here are the fifteen crowns for your horse. That will do well to
pay your passage to Flushing."
As soon as he had eaten his breakfast, Ned, now dressed as a young
fisherman, went into the taproom with the landlord. Two sailors
were sitting there.
"This is the young fellow that I was speaking to you about," the
landlord said. "He is one of us, and heart and soul in the cause,
and young though he looks has done good service. He is ready to
pay you fifteen crowns when you land him at Flushing."
"That is a bargain," one of the men said, "and will pay us for the
week we have lost here. I should take you for a sailor, young sir."
"I am a sailor," Ned said, "and can lend a hand on board if need
be."
"Can you swim? Because if we are overhauled by the Spaniards we
shall all take to the water rather than fall into their hands."
"Yes, I can swim," Ned said; "and agree with you that I would rather
swim than be captured. But if it is only a boatload that overhauls
us I would try to beat them off before giving up a craft in which
I had a share."
The sailors looked rather doubtfully at the lad, and their expression
showed that they thought he was talking boastfully.
"He means what he says," the landlord put in. "He is the son of
the English captain who beat off the great Spanish ship Don Pedro
in the Zuider Zee a few weeks ago."
The men's faces changed, and both got up and shook hands cordially
with Ned. "That was a brave affair, young sir; and there is not a
town in Holland where your father's name is not spoken of in honour.
We know the ship well, and have helped load her before now; and
now we know who you are, recognize your face. No wonder you want
to get out of Bergen op Zoom. Why, if I had known it had been you
we would have been glad enough to take you to Flushing without
charging you a penny, and will do so now--will we not, comrades--if
it presses you in any way to pay us?"
"Not at all," Ned said. "I am well supplied with money; and since
you are risking your boat, as well as your lives, it is only fair
that I should pay my share. I can afford the fifteen crowns well
enough, and indeed it is but the price of a horse that was given
me."
"Well, if it will not hurt you we will not say any more about
it," the sailor replied; "seeing that we have had a bad time of it
lately, and have scarce money enough left between us to victual us
until we get home. But had it been otherwise, we would have starved
for a week rather than had it said that we made hard terms with the
son of the brave Captain Martin when he was trying to escape from
the hands of the Spaniards."
"Now, lads, you had better be off at once," the landlord interrupted.
"It is time I sent in my report to the town hall; and like enough
men will be down here asking questions soon after, so it were best
that Master Martin were on board your craft at once. Goodbye, young
sir. Tell your worthy father that I am glad indeed to have been
able to be of some slight service to his son, and I trust that it
will not be very long before we see the last of the Spaniards, and
that we shall then have his ship alongside the wharves again."
Ned shook hands heartily with the landlord, who had refused to
accept any payment whatever from him, and then started with the
two sailors. They made their way down to the inner haven, and then
went on board the boat, a craft of about ten tons burden which was
lying alongside. The wharves had a strange and deserted appearance.
When Ned had last been there some fifty or sixty vessels of
different sizes had been lying alongside discharging or taking in
cargo, while many others lay more out in the stream. Now there were
only a dozen boats of about the same size as that on which they
embarked, all, like it, arrested by the sudden order that no vessels
should leave the port.
There were no large merchantmen among them, for trade had altogether
ceased, save when a strong convoy of French, Spanish, or German
ships arrived. For with Flushing in the hands of the patriots, and
the sea swarming with the craft of the beggars, foreign vessels
bound for ports in the hands of the Spaniards did not dare singly
to approach the mouth of the Scheldt. Ned received a hearty welcome
from the other sailors when they learned from their skipper and his
companion who he was, and before he had been ten minutes on board
they asked him to give them the full details of the fight off
Enkhuizen, and how it was that the Spaniards thus interfered with
an English ship.
Ned told them the story, and the sailors when he had finished
had each some tale to tell of oppression and cruelty to friends
or relatives on the part of the Spaniards. When they had finished
their midday meal, which was the heartiest the sailors had enjoyed
for some days, for the landlord when making the bargain had paid them
five crowns in advance, and the empty larder had been accordingly
replenished, the skipper said to Ned, "I think that it will be just
as well you did something, in case the magistrates should take it
into their heads to send down to search the craft along the wharves.
The landlord said that they might make inquiries as to what had
become of the man who stayed last night at his inn. You may be sure
he did not put down in his guest list a description which would
help them much in their search for you, should they make one, still
they keep a pretty sharp lookout over us, and if they search at
all are likely to come to try here to begin with."
"I am quite ready to do anything you may set me to," Ned said.
"Then we will get the boat out, and row off and bait our hooks and
try for fish; we have caught a few every day since we have been
here. And, indeed, if it were not for the fish the men in most of
the boats here would be starving."
"That will do capitally," Ned said. "Anyhow it will be an amusement
to me."
The boat was pulled up alongside, Ned and four of the men got into
it and rowed down the port into the Old Haven, and out between the
two forts guarding the entrance into the Scheldt, then dropping
their grapnel, baited some lines and began to fish. As boats from
all the other craft lying by the shore were engaged in the same
work, either with line or net, this was natural enough, and they
did not return until evening was falling, by which time they had
captured a considerable number of fish.
"We have had more luck than we have had all the week," one of the
men said as they rowed back. "Sometimes we have only got just enough
for ourselves, today when we don't want them we have caught enough
to sell for two or three guilders; for fish are scarce now in the
town and fetch good prices. However, they will come in handy for
our voyage."
When they came alongside the skipper told them that three hours
before two of the city constables had come along, and had inquired
of him whether he had seen aught of a tall man of some thirty years
of age, dressed in sober clothes, and with the appearance of a
retainer in some good family. He had assured them he had seen none
at all answering that description, and, indeed, that no one beside
himself and his crew had been on the wharf that day. They had
nevertheless come on board and searched the cabin, but finding
nothing suspicious, and hearing that the rest of the crew, four
men and a boy, were engaged in fishing, they had gone off without
further question.
"Where do the guard boats ply?" Ned asked presently.
"A mile or two above the forts, and as much below; for, you see,
vessels can come up either passage from the sea. It is the longest
round by Walcheren, but far easier and freer from sandbanks. Vessels
from the west generally take the Walcheren passage; but those from
the east, and coasters who know every foot of the river, come by
the eastern Scheldt."
"Which way do you think of going?"
"That by Flushing, if we have the choice. We pass several towns in
the possession of the Spaniards, and were the beggars to come up
they would probably take the other channel. And I have noticed that
there are always two rowboats in the river to the east, and only
one to the west. Our greatest difficulty will be in passing the
two warships anchored at the mouth of the port, under the guns of
the forts. Once fairly out into the Scheldt we may think ourselves
safe, for the river is so wide that unless by grievous ill chance
we are not likely to be seen on a dark night, such as this will
be, by the rowboats. Our real danger is in getting through the two
forts, and the ships at the mouth of this port.
"There is a vigilant watch kept at the forts; but there are not
likely to be any sentries placed on the walls at the entrance of
this inner haven, or on that running along by Old Haven down to
the forts. We will start as soon as the tide turns, and drift down
with it. We will get out a pole or two to keep our course down the
centre till we get near the forts, and must then let her drift as
she will, for a splash in the water or the slightest sound would
call the attention of the sentries there, and if the alarm were given
the boats of the two ships outside would have us to a certainty.
I think the night is going to be most favourable. The clouds are
low, and I have felt a speck or two of mist; it will come on faster
presently, and it will want keen eyes to see five yards away when
the night falls. Luckily there is not a breath of wind at present;
and I hope there will not be until we are fairly out, otherwise we
should be sure to drift ashore on one side or the other as we go
down the channel."