CHAPTER XX
The courage, like the talent, of common men, runs in a narrow groove.Take them but an inch out of that, and they are done. Martin's couragewas perfect as far as it went. He had met and baffled many dangers inthe course of his rude life, and these familiar dangers he could facewith Spartan fortitude, almost with indifference; but he had neverbeen hunted by a bloodhound, nor had he ever seen that brute's unerringinstinct baffled by human cunning. Here then a sense of the supernaturalcombined with novelty to ungenteel his heart. After going a few steps,he leaned on his bow, and energy and hope oozed out of him. Gerard, towhom the danger appeared slight in proportion as it was distant, urgedhim to flight.
"What avails it?" said Martin sadly; "if we get clear of the wood weshall die cheap; here, hard by, I know a place where we may die dear."
"Alas! good Martin," cried Gerard, "despair not so quickly; there mustbe some way to escape."
"Oh, Martin!" cried Margaret, "what if we were to part company? Gerard'slife alone is forfeit. Is there no way to draw the pursuit on us twainand let him go safe?"
"Girl, you know not the bloodhound's nature. He is not on this man'strack or that; he is on the track of blood. My life on't they have takenhim to where Ghysbrecht fell, and from the dead man's blood to the manthat shed it that cursed hound will lead them, though Gerard should runthrough an army or swim the Meuse." And again he leaned upon his bow,and his head sank.
The hound's mellow voice rang through the wood.
A cry more tunable Was never halloed to, nor cheered with horn, In Crete, in Sparta, or in Thessaly.
Strange that things beautiful should be terrible and deadly' The eyeof the boa-constrictor, while fascinating its prey, is lovely. No royalcrown holds such a jewel; it is a ruby with the emerald's green lightplaying ever upon it. Yet the deer that sees it loses all power ofmotion, and trembles, and awaits his death and even so, to comparehearing with sight, this sweet and mellow sound seemed to fascinateMartin Wittenhaagen. He stood uncertain, bewildered, and unnerved.Gerard was little better now. Martin's last words had daunted him, Hehad struck an old man and shed his blood, and, by means of that veryblood, blood's four-footed avenger was on his track. Was not the fingerof Heaven in this?
Whilst the men were thus benumbed, the woman's brain was all activity.The man she loved was in danger.
"Lend me your knife," said she to Martin. He gave it her.
"But 'twill be little use in your hands," said he.
Then Margaret did a sly thing. She stepped behind Gerard, and furtivelydrew the knife across her arm, and made it bleed freely; then stooping,smeared her hose and shoes; and still as the blood trickled she smearedthem; but so adroitly that neither Gerard nor Martin saw. Then sheseized the soldier's arm.
"Come, be a man!" she said, "and let this end. Take us to some thickplace, where numbers will not avail our foes."
"I am going," said Martin sulkily. "Hurry avails not; we cannot shun thehound, and the place is hard by;" then turning to the left, he led theway, as men go to execution.
He soon brought them to a thick hazel coppice, like the one that hadfavoured their escape in the morning.
"There," said he, "this is but a furlong broad, but it will serve ourturn."
"What are we to do?"
"Get through this, and wait on the other side; then as they comestraggling through, shoot three, knock two on the head, and the restwill kill us."
"Is that all you can think of?" said Gerard.
"That is all."
"Then, Martin Wittenhaagen, I take the lead, for you have lost yourhead. Come, can you obey so young a man as I am?"
"Oh, yes, Martin," cried Margaret, "do not gainsay Gerard! He is wiserthan his years."
Martin yielded a sullen assent.
"Do then as you see me do," said Gerard; and drawing his huge knife, hecut at every step a hazel shoot or two close by the ground, and turninground twisted them breast-high behind him among the standing shoots.Martin did the same, but with a dogged hopeless air. When they hadthus painfully travelled through the greater part of the coppice, thebloodhound's deep bay came nearer and nearer, less and less musical,louder and sterner.
Margaret trembled.
Martin went down on his stomach and listened.
"I hear a horse's feet."
"No," said Gerard; "I doubt it is a mule's. That cursed Ghysbrecht isstill alive: none other would follow me up so bitterly."
"Never strike your enemy but to slay him," said Martin gloomily.
"I'll hit harder this time, if Heaven gives me the chance," said Gerard.
At last they worked through the coppice, and there was an open wood. Thetrees were large, but far apart, and no escape possible that way.
And now with the hound's bay mingled a score of voices hooping andhallooing.
"The whole village is out after us," said Martin.
"I care not," said Gerard. "Listen, Martin. I have made the track smoothto the dog, but rough to the men, that we may deal with them apart.Thus the hound will gain on the men, and as soon as he comes out of thecoppice we must kill him."
"The hound? There are more than one."
"I hear but one."
"Ay! but one speaks, the others run mute; but let the leading hound losethe scent, then another shall give tongue. There will be two dogs, atleast, or devils in dog's hides."
"Then we must kill two instead of one. The moment they are dead, intothe coppice again, and go right back."
"That is a good thought, Gerard," said Martin, plucking up heart.
"Hush! the men are in the wood."
Gerard now gave his orders in a whisper.
"Stand you with your bow by the side of the coppice--there, in theditch. I will go but a few yards to yon oak-tree, and hide behind it;the dogs will follow me, and, as they come out, shoot as many as youcan, the rest will I brain as they come round the tree."
Martin's eye flashed. They took up their places.
The hooping and hallooing came closer and closer, and soon even therustling of the young wood was heard, and every now and then theunerring bloodhound gave a single bay.
It was terrible! the branches rustling nearer and nearer, and theinevitable struggle for life and death coming on minute by minute,and that death-knell leading it. A trembling hand was laid on Gerard'sshoulder. It made him start violently, strung up as he was.
"Martin says if we are forced to part company, make for that highash-tree we came in by."
"Yes! yes! yes! but go back for Heaven's sake! don't come here, all outin the open!"
She ran back towards Martin; but, ere she could get to him, suddenly ahuge dog burst out of the coppice, and stood erect a moment. Margaretcowered with fear, but he never noticed her. Scent was to him what sightis to us. He lowered his nose an instant, and the next moment, with anawful yell, sprang straight at Gerard's tree and rolled head-over-heelsdead as a stone, literally spitted with an arrow from the bow thattwanged beside the coppice in Martin's hand. That same moment out cameanother hound and smelt his dead comrade. Gerald rushed out at him;but ere he could use his cudgel, a streak of white lightning seemed tostrike the hound, and he grovelled in the dust, wounded desperately, butnot killed, and howling piteously.
Gerard had not time to despatch him: the coppice rustled too near: itseemed alive. Pointing wildly to Martin to go back, Gerard ran a fewyards to the right, then crept cautiously into the thick coppice just asthree men burst out. These had headed their comrades considerably: therest were following at various distances. Gerard crawled back almost onall-fours. Instinct taught Martin and Margaret to do the same upon theirline of retreat. Thus, within the distance of a few yards, the pursuersand pursued were passing one another upon opposite tracks.
A loud cry announced the discovery of the dead and the wounded hound.Then followed a babble of voices, still swelling as fresh pursuersreached the spot. The hunters, as usual on a surprise, were wastingtime, and the hunted ones were making the most of it.
It was Margaret's turn to tremble and despair.
"Oh, why did we part with Gerard? They will kill my Gerard, and I notnear him."
"Nay, nay! the head to catch him is not on their shoulders. You bade himmeet us at the ash-tree?"
"And so I did. Bless you, Martin, for thinking of that. To theash-tree!"
"Ay! but with less noise."
They were now nearly at the edge of the coppice, when suddenlythey heard hooping and hallooing behind them. The men had satisfiedthemselves the fugitives were in the coppice, and were beating back.
"No matter," whispered Martin to his trembling companion. "We shall havetime to win clear and slip back out of sight by hard running. Ah!"
He stooped suddenly; for just as he was going to burst out of thebrushwood, his eye caught a figure keeping sentinel. It was GhysbrechtVan Swieten seated on his mule; a bloody bandage was across his nose,the bridge of which was broken; but over this his eyes peered keenly,and it was plain by their expression he had heard the fugitives rustle,and was looking out for them. Martin muttered a terrible oath, andcautiously strung his bow, then with equal caution fitted his last arrowto the string. Margaret put her hands to her face, but said nothing.She saw this man must die or Gerard. After the first impulse she peeredthrough her fingers, her heart panting to her throat.
The bow was raised, and the deadly arrow steadily drawn to its head,when at that moment an active figure leaped on Ghysbrecht from behind soswiftly, it was like a hawk swooping on a pigeon. A kerchief went overthe burgomaster, in a turn of the hand his head was muffled in it, andhe was whirled from his seat and fell heavily upon the ground, where helay groaning with terror; and Gerard jumped down after him.
"Hist, Martin! Martin!"
Martin and Margaret came out, the former openmouthed crying, "Now fly!fly! while they are all in the thicket; we are saved."
At this crisis, when safety seemed at hand, as fate would have it,Margaret, who had borne up so bravely till now, began to succumb, partlyfrom loss of blood.
"Oh, my beloved, fly!" she gasped. "Leave me, for I am faint."
"No! no!" cried Gerard. "Death together, or safety. Ah! the mule! mounther, you, and I'll run by your side."
In a moment Martin was on Ghysbrecht's mule, and Gerard raised thefainting girl in his arms and placed her on the saddle, and relievedMartin of his bow.
"Help! treason! murder! murder!" shrieked Ghysbrecht, suddenly rising onhis hams.
"Silence, cur," roared Gerard, and trode him down again by the throat asmen crush an adder.
"Now, have you got her firm? Then fly! for our lives! for our lives!"
But even as the mule, urged suddenly by Martin's heel, scattered theflints with his hind hoofs ere he got into a canter, and even as Gerardwithdrew his foot from Ghysbrecht's throat to run, Dierich Brower andhis five men, who had come back for orders, and heard the burgomaster'scries, burst roaring out of the coppice on them.
The Cloister and the Hearth Page 20