THE MESSAGE FROM THE WHITE GATE
I rushed out into the street, distract and insensate with grief and
madness. I found the city seething with sullen unrest--not yet openly
hostile to the powers that abode in the Castle of the Wolfsberg--too long
cowed and down-trodden for that, but angry with the anger which one day
would of a certainty break out and be pitiless.
The Black Horsemen of the Duke pricked a way with their lances here and
there through the people, driving them into the narrow lanes, in jets and
spurts of fleeing humanity, only once more to reunite as soon as the
Hussars of Death had passed. Pikemen cried "Make way!" and the regular
guard of the city paraded in strong companies.
A soldier wantonly thrust me in the back with his spear, and I sprang
towards him fiercely, glad to strike home at something. But as quickly a
man of the crowd pulled me back.
"Be wise!" he said; "not for your own sake alone, but for the sake of all
these women and children. The Black Riders seek only an excuse to sweep
the city from end to end with the besom of fire and blood."
Then came my master out of the Hall of Judgment, his head hanging
dejectedly down. As soon as he was observed the people crowded about,
shaking him by the hand, thanking him for that which he had done for
their maid, their holy Saint Helena of the plague.
"We will not suffer her to be put to death, not even if they of the
Wolfsberg raze our city to the ground!"
"Make way there!" cried the Black Horsemen--"way, in the name of
Duke Otho!"
"Who is Duke Otho?" cried a voice. "We do not know Duke Otho."
"He is not crowned yet! Why should he take so much upon him?"
shouted another.
"We are free burgesses of Thorn, and no man's bond-slaves!" said a third.
Such were the shouts that hurtled through the streets and were bandied
fiercely from man to man, betraying in tone more than in word the
intensity of the hatred which existed between the ducal towers of the
Wolfsberg and the city which lay beneath them.
In my boyish days I had laughed at the assemblies of the Swan--the White
Wolves and Free Companies. But, perhaps, those who had thus played at
revolt were wiser than I. For of a surety these associations were
yielding their fruits now in a harvest of hate against the gloomy pile
that had so long dominated the town, choked its liberties, and shut it
off from the new, free, thriving world of the northern seaboard
commonwealths to which of right it belonged.
So soon as Dessauer and I were alone in my master's room at Bishop
Peter's I tried to stammer some sort of thanks, but I could do no more
than hold out a hand to him. The old man clasped it.
"It was wholly useless from the first," he said; "they had their purpose
fixed and their course laid out, so that there was no turning of them.
All was a mockery, so clear that even the ignorant men of the streets
were not deceived. Accusation, evidence, pleadings, condemnation,
sentence--all were ready before the maid was taken; aye, and, I think,
before Duke Casimir was dead.
"Also there is no court in the Wolfmark higher than the mockery we have
seen to-day. The arms of the soldiers of Plassenburg are our only court
of appeal."
"It is two days before they can come," I answered. "I fear me all will be
over before then."
"Be not so sure," said Dessauer. "There is at present no Justicer in the
Mark capable of carrying out the sentence, so long as your father lies on
his bed of mortal weakness."
"Duke Otho will not let that stand in his way--or I am the more
deceived," said I, with a heavy heart.
At this moment there came an interruption. I heard a loud argument
outside in the court-yard.
"Tell me what you want with the servant of the most learned Doctor!"
cried a voice.
"That is his business, and mine--not yours, rusty son of a
stable-sweeper!" was the answer.
I went out immediately, and there, facing each other in a position of
mutual defiance, I saw Peter of the Pigs and the decent legal domestic of
Master Gerard von Sturm.
"Get out of my wind, old Muck-to-the-Eyes!" said the servitor,
offensively; "you poison the good, wholesome air that is needed for
men's breath."
"Go back to your murderer of the saints," responded Peter of the Pigs,
valiantly. "Your master and you will swing in effigy to-night in every
street in Thorn. Some day before long you will both swing in the body--if
a hair of this angel's head be harmed."
"I must see this learned Doctor's servant!" persisted the man of law,
avoiding the personal question.
"Here he is," said I; "and now what would you with him?"
"I am sent to invite you to come to the Weiss Thor immediately, on
business which deeply concerns you."
"That is not enough for me," said I. "Who sends for me?"
"Let me come in out of the hearing of this moon-faced idiot," said he,
pointing contumeliously to Peter of the Pigs, "and I will tell you. I am
not bidden to proclaim my business in the market sties and city
cattlepens!"
"You do well, Parchment Knave," cried Peter; "for it is such black
business that if you proclaimed a syllable of it there you would be
torn to pieces of honest folk. Thank God there are still some such in
the world!"
"Aye, many," quoth the servitor, "and we all know they are to be found in
the dwellings of priestlings!"
I walked with the man to the gate, for I did not care to take him to
where Dessauer was sitting. I feared that it might be some ill news from
the Lubber Fiend, who, though I had seen him clear of the gate, might
very well have returned and told my message to Master Gerard.
"Well," said I, brusquely, for I had no love for the Sir Rusty
Respectable, "out with it--who sends you?"
"It is not my master," answered the man, "but one other."
"What other?" said I.
"The one," he said, cunningly, "with whom on a former occasion you rode
out at the White Gate."
Then I saw that he knew me.
"The Princess--" I began.
"Hush," he said, touching my arm; "that is not a word to be whispered in
the streets of Thorn--the Lady Ysolinde is at her father's house, and
would see you--on a matter of life or death--so she bade me tell you."
"I will go with you," I said, instantly.
"Nay," he said, smirking secretly, "not now, but at nine of the clock,
when the city ways shall be dark, you must come--you know the road.
And then you two can confer together safely, and eke, an it please
you, jocosely, when Master Gerard will be safe in his study, with the
lamp lit."
I went back to Dessauer, who during my absence had kept his head in his
hand, as if deeply absorbed in thought.
"The Princess is in Thorn!" said I, as a startling piece of news.
"Ah, the Princess!" he muttered, abstractedly; "truly she is the
Princess, but yet that will not advantage her a whit."
I saw that he was thinking of our little Helene.
"Nay," I said, taking him by the arm to secure his attention, as indeed
about this time I had often to do. "I mean the Lady Ysolinde, the wife of
our good Prince."
"In Thorn?" said Dessauer. "Ah, I am little surprised. Twice when I was
speaking to-day I saw a face I knew well look through a lattice in the
wall at me. But being intent upon my words I did not think of it, nor
indeed recognize it till it had disappeared. Now the picture comes back
to me curiously clear. It was the face of the Princess Ysolinde."
"I am to see her at nine o'clock to-night in the house of the
Weiss Thor."
"Do not go, I pray you!" he said; "it is certainly a trap."
"Go I must, and will," I replied; "for it may be to the good of our
maiden. I will risk all for that!"
"I dare say," said he; "so should I, if I saw any advantage, such as
indeed I hoped for to-day. But if I be not mistaken, our Princess is deep
in this plot."
"And why?" said I. "Helene never harmed her."
"Helene is your betrothed wife, is she not?" he said. He asked as if he
did not know.
"Surely!" said I.
"Well!" he replied, sententiously, and so went out.