THE NEW ACQUAINTANCES.
All was bustle in the good old town of Ghent, as Richard of Woodville
and his train rode in. It was at all times a gay and busy place; and
even now, when much of its commerce has passed away from it, what a
cheerful and lively scene does its market-place present on a summer's
day, with the tall houses rising round, and breaking the line of the
sunshine into fantastic forms, and the innumerable groups of men
and women standing to gossip or to traffic, or moving about in
many-coloured raiment! On that day, however, military display was
added to the usual gaiety of the scene, and to the ordinary municipal
pageants of the time. Horsemen in arms were riding through the
streets, lances were seen here and there, and pennons fluttered on the
wind, while every now and then attendants in gay dresses, with the
arms of Burgundy embroidered upon breast and back, passed along with
busy looks and an important air.
The young Englishman took his way under the direction of brother
Paul--who had shown himself upon the journey more courteous and
conversable than had been expected--towards the principal hostelry of
the place; and Ghent at that time possessed many; but he was twice
forced to stop in his advance by the crowds, who seemed to take little
notice of him and his train, so fully occupied were they with some
other event of the day. The first interruption was caused by a long
train of priests and monks going to some church, with all the splendid
array of the Roman Catholic clergy, followed by an immense multitude
of idle gazers; and hardly had they passed, when the procession of the
trades, walking on foot, with banners displayed, and guards in armour,
and ensigns of the different companies, crossed the path of the
travellers, causing them to halt for a full quarter of an hour, while
the long line moved slowly on.
"Is this any day of peculiar festival, brother Paul?" demanded Richard
of Woodville; "the good citizens of Ghent seem in holiday."
"None that I know of," replied the monk; "but I will ask;" and,
pushing on his mule to the side of one of the more respectable
artisans, he inquired the cause of the procession of the trades.
"They are going to compliment the Count de Charolois," answered the
man, "and to ask his recognition of their charters and privileges. He
arrived only this morning."
"That is fortunate, Ella," said Woodville, as soon as he was informed
of this reply; "both for you and for me. Your father's cousin will,
most likely, be with him; and I seek the Count myself."
Brother Paul seemed to listen attentively to what his companions said;
but he made no remark; and as soon as the procession had passed, they
rode on, and were soon housed comfortably for the night. The monk left
them at the inn door, thanking the young English gentleman for his
escort, and retired to the abbey of St. Bavon.
The hour of the day was somewhat late for Richard of Woodville to
present himself before the Count de Charolois, and he also judged that
it might be more prudent to visit in the first place the agent of the
King of England--the well-known diplomatist of that day, Sir Philip
Morgan, or de Morgan--if it should chance that he had accompanied the
Count to Ghent. That he had done so, indeed, seemed by no means
improbable, as Woodville had learned since his arrival in Flanders,
that the Duke of Burgundy himself was absent in the French capital,
and that the chief rule of his Flemish territory was entrusted to his
son. The host of the inn, however, could tell him nothing about the
matter; all he knew was, that the Count had arrived that morning
unexpectedly, accompanied by a large train, and that instead of taking
up his abode in the Cour des Princes, which had of late years become
the residence of the Counts of Flanders, he had gone to what was
called the Vieux Bourg, or old castle, of the Flemish princes. He
offered to send a man to inquire if a person bearing the hard name
which his English guest had pronounced, was with the Count's company;
and Richard of Woodville had just got through the arrangements of a
first arrival, and was taking a hasty meal, when the messenger
returned, saying that Sir Philip de Morgan was with the Count, and was
lodged in the left gate tower entering from the court.
"I will go to him at once, Ella," he said; "and before my return you
had better bethink you of what course you will pursue, in case your
kinsman should not be with the Count. I will leave you for the present
under the charge of Ned Dyram here, who will see that no harm happens
to you in this strange town."
"Oh! it is not strange to me," replied Ella Brune. "We once staid here
for a month, noble sir; and, as to bethinking me of what I shall do, I
have bethought me already, but will not stay you to speak about it
now."
Thus saying, she suffered him to depart, without giving him any charge
to inquire after her kinsman, being somewhat more than indifferent, to
say the truth, as to whether Richard of Woodville found him or not.
When the young gentleman had departed, and the meal was concluded, Ned
Dyram, though he had taken care to show no great pleasure at the task
which his master had given him to execute, besought his fair companion
to walk forth with him into the town, and urged her still,
notwithstanding the plea of weariness which she offered for retiring
to her own chamber.
"I wish to purchase some goods," he said; "and shall never make myself
understood, fair Ella, unless I have you with me."
"Oh! every one in this town speaks French," replied Ella Brune; "for
since the country fell to one of the royal family of France, that
tongue has become the fashion amongst the nobles; and the traders are
obliged to learn it, to speak with them."
"But I must not go out and leave you," replied Ned Dyram, "after the
charge my young lord has laid upon me;" and as he still pressed her to
accompany him, Ella, who felt that she owed him some gratitude for
having forwarded her schemes so far, at length consented; and they
issued forth together into the streets of Ghent.
As soon as they were free from the presence of the other attendants of
Richard of Woodville, the manner of her companion towards Ella became
very different. There was a tenderness in his tones, and in his words,
an expression of admiration in his countenance, which he had carefully
avoided displaying before others; and the poor girl felt somewhat
grieved and annoyed, although, as there was nothing coarse or familiar
in his demeanour, she felt that she had no right to be displeased.
"The lowliest may love the highest," she thought; "and in station he
is better than I am. Why, then, should I feel angry?--And yet I wish
this had not been; it may mar all my plans. How can I check it? and if
I do, may he not divine all the rest, and, in his anger, do what he
can to thwart me?--I will treat it lightly. Heaven pardon me, if I
dissemble!"
"What are you thinking of so deeply, fair maiden?" asked Ned Dyram,
marking the reverie into which she had fallen. "You do not seem to
listen to what I say."
"As much as it is worth, Master Dyram," replied Ella, in a gay tone;
"but I must check you; you are too rapid in your sweet speeches. Do
you not know, that he who would become a true servant to a lady, must
have long patience, and go discreetly to work? Oh! I am not to be won
more easily than my betters! Poor as I am, I am as proud as any lady
of high degree, and will have slow courtship and humble suit before I
am won."
"You shall have all that you wish, fair Ella," answered Ned Dyram, "if
you will but smile upon my suit!"
"Smile!" exclaimed Ella, with the same light manner. "Did ever man
dream of such a thing so soon! Why, you may think yourself highly
favoured, if you get a smile within three months. The first moon is
all sighing--the next is all beseeching--the next, hoping and fearing;
and then, perchance, a smile may come, to give hope encouragement. A
kind word may follow at the end of the fourth month, and so on. But
the lady who could be wholly won before three years, is unworthy of
regard. However, Master Dyram," she continued in a graver tone, "you
must make haste to purchase what you want, for I am over-weary to walk
further over these rough stones."
Just as she spoke, brother Paul passed them, in company with a secular
priest; and, although he took no notice of his fellow travellers,
walking on as if he did not see them, the quick eye of Ned Dyram
perceived with a glance that the priest and the monk had stopped, and
were gazing back, talking earnestly together.
"That dull shaveling loves us not, fair Ella," said Ned Dyram. "He is
one of your haters of all men, I should think."
"I have seen his face somewhere before," answered Ella Brune; "but I
know not well where. 'Tis not a pleasant picture to look upon,
certainly, but he may be a good man for all that. Come, Master Dyram,
what is it you want to buy? Here are stalls enough around us now; and
if you do not choose speedily, I must turn back to the inn, and leave
you to find your way through Ghent alone."
"Then, first," said Ned Dyram, "I would buy a clasp to fasten the hood
round your fair face."
"What!" exclaimed Ella, in a tone of merry anger; "accept a present
within a week of having seen you first! Nay, nay, servant of mine,
that is a grace you must not expect for months to come. No, if that be
all you want, I shall turn back," and she did so accordingly; but Ned
Dyram had accomplished as much of his object as he had hoped or
expected, for that day at least. He had spoken of love with Ella
Brune; and, although what a great seer of the human heart has said,
that "talking of love is not making it," may be true, yet it is
undoubtedly a very great step to that pleasant consummation. But Ned
Dyram had done more; he had overstepped the first great barrier; and
Ella now knew that he loved her. He trusted to time and opportunity
for the rest; and he was not one to doubt his skill in deriving the
greatest advantage from both.
The foolish and obtuse are often deceived by others; the shrewd and
quick are often deceived by themselves. Without that best of all
qualities of the mind, strong common sense, there is little to choose
between the two: for if the dull man has in the world to contend with
a thousand knaves, the quick one has in his own heart to contend with
a thousand passions; and, perhaps, the domestic cheats are the most
dangerous after all. There is not so great a fool on the earth as a
clever man, when he is one; and Ned Dyram was one of that class, so
frequently to be found in all ages, whose abilities are sometimes
serviceable to others, but are rarely, if ever, found serviceable to
themselves.
Ella had used but little art towards him, but that which all women
use, or would use, under such circumstances. Her first great thought
was to conceal the love she felt; and where--when it becomes necessary
to do so--is there a woman who will not find a thousand disguises to
hide it from all eyes? But to him especially she was anxious to suffer
no feeling of her bosom to appear; for she had speedily discovered, by
a sort of intuition rather than observation--or, perhaps by a
quickness in the perception of small traits which often seems like
intuition--that he was keen and cunning beyond his seeming; and now
she had a double motive for burying every secret deep in her own
heart. She laid out no plan, indeed, for her future conduct towards
him; she thought not what she would say, or what she would do; and if,
in her after course, she employed aught like wile against his wiles,
it was done on the impulse of the moment, and not on any predetermined
scheme.
Ned Dyram had remarked his master's conduct well since Ella had been
their companion; he had seen that Woodville had been sincere in the
opinion he had expressed, that it would be better for her to remain in
England; and the very calm indifference which he had displayed on
finding her in the ship with himself, had proved to him, both that
there had never been any love passages between them ere he knew
either, as he had imagined when first he was sent to London, and thus
there was no chance of the young gentleman's kindly sympathy for the
fair girl he protected growing into a warmer feeling. He read the
unaffected conduct of his master aright; but to that of Ella Brune he
had been more blind, partly because he was deceived by his own
passions, partly because, in this instance, he had a much deeper and
less legible book to read--a woman's heart; and, though naturally of a
clear-sighted and even suspicious mind, he saw not, in the slightest
degree, the real impulses on which she acted.
Contented, therefore, with the progress he had made, he purchased some
articles of small value at one of the stalls which they passed, and
returned to the inn with his fair companion, who at once sought her
chamber, and retired to rest, without waiting for Richard of
Woodville's return. Then sitting down in a dark corner of the hall, in
which several of his companions were playing at tables, and two or
three other guests listening to a tale in broad Flemish, delivered by
the host, Dyram turned in his mind all that had passed between him and
Ella, and, with vanity to aid him, easily persuaded himself that his
suit would find favour in her eyes. He saw, indeed, that the rash and
licentious thoughts which he had at one time entertained in regard to
her when he found her poor, solitary, and unprotected, at a hostel in
the liberties of the city, were injurious to her; but as his character
was one of those too ordinary and debased ones, which value all things
by the difficulty of attainment, he felt the more eagerly inclined to
seek her, and to take any means to make her his, because he found her
less easy to be obtained than he had at first imagined.