by Georg Ebers
CHAPTER VI.
A current of warm air, redolent of beer and food, met the travellersas they entered the large, low room, dimly lighted by the tiny windows,scarcely more than loop-holes, pierced in two sides. The tap-room itselflooked like the cabin of a ship. Ceiling and floor, chairs and tables,were made of the same dark-brown wood that covered the walls, alongwhich beds were ranged like berths.
The host, with many bows, came forward to receive the aristocraticguests, and led them to the fire-place, where huge pieces of peat wereglimmering. The heat they sent forth answered several purposes at thesame time. It warmed the air, lighted a portion of the room, whichwas very dark in rainy weather, and served to cook three fowl that,suspended from a thin iron bar over the fire, were already beginning tobrown.
As the new guests approached the hearth, an old woman, who had beenturning the spit, pushed a white cat from her lap and rose.
The landlord tossed on a bench several garments spread over the backsof two chairs to dry, and hung in their place the dripping cloaks of thebaron and his son.
While the elder Wibisma was ordering something hot to drink for himselfand servants, Nicolas led the black page to the fire.
The shivering boy crouched on the floor beside the ashes, and stretchednow his soaked feet, shod in red morocco, and now his stiffened fingersto the blaze.
The father and son took their seats at a table, over which themaid-servant had spread a cloth. The baron was inclined to enter intoconversation about the decorated tree with the landlord, an over-civil,pock-marked dwarf, whose clothes were precisely the same shade of brownas the wood in his tap-room; but refrained from doing so because twocitizens of Leyden, one of whom was well known to him, sat at a shortdistance from his table, and he did not wish to be drawn into a quarrelin a place like this.
After Nicolas had also glanced around the tap-room, he touched hisfather, saying in a low tone:
"Did you notice the men yonder? The younger one--he's lifting the coverof the tankard now--is the organist who released me from the boys andgave me his cloak yesterday."
"The one yonder?" asked the nobleman. "A handsome young fellow. He mightbe taken for an artist or something of that kind. Here, landlord, whois the gentleman with brown hair and large eyes, talking to Allertssohn,the fencing-master?"
"It's Herr Wilhelm, younger son of old Herr Cornelius, Receiver General,a player or musician, as they call them."
"Eh, eh," cried the baron. "His father is one of my old Leydenacquaintances. He was a worthy, excellent man before the craze forliberty turned people's heads. The youth, too, has a face pleasant tolook at.
"There is something pure about it--something-it's hard to say,something--what do you think, Nico? Doesn't he look like our SaintSebastian? Shall I speak to him and thank him for his kindness?"
The baron, without waiting for his son, whom he treated as an equal,to reply, rose to give expression to his friendly feelings towards themusician, but this laudable intention met with an unexpected obstacle.
The man, whom the baron had called the fencing-master Allertssohn, hadjust perceived that the "Glippers" cloaks were hanging by the fire,while his friend's and his own were flung on a bench. This fact seemedto greatly irritate the Leyden burgher; for as the baron rose, he pushedhis own chair violently back, bent his muscular body forward, restedboth arms on the edge of the table opposite to him and, with a jerkingmotion, turned his soldierly face sometimes towards the baron, andsometimes towards the landlord. At last he shouted loudly:
"Peter Quatgelat--you villain, you! What ails you, you, miserablehunchback!--Who gives you a right to toss our cloaks into a corner?"
"Yours, Captain," stammered the host, "were already--"
"Hold your tongue, you fawning knave!" thundered the other in so loud atone and such excitement, that the long grey moustache on his upper lipshook, and the thick beard on his chin trembled. "Hold your tongue! Weknow better. Jove's thunder! Nobleman's cloaks are favored here. They'reof Spanish cut. That exactly suits the Glippers' faces. Good Dutch clothis thrown into the corner. Ho, ho, Brother Crooklegs, we'll put you onparade."
"Pray, most noble Captain--"
"I'll blow away your most noble, you worthless scamp, you arrant rascal!First come, first served, is the rule in Holland, and has been eversince the days of Adam and Eve. Prick up your ears, Crooklegs! If my'most noble' cloak, and Herr Wilhelm's too, are not hanging in their oldplaces before I count twenty, something will happen here that won't suityou. One-two-three--"
The landlord cast a timid, questioning glance at the nobleman, and asthe latter shrugged his shoulders and said audibly: "There is probablyroom for more than two cloaks at the fire," Quatgelat took the Leydenguests' wraps from the bench and hung them on two chairs, which hepushed up to the mantel-piece.
While this was being done, the fencing-master slowly continued to count.By the time he reached twenty the landlord had finished his task, yetthe irate captain still gave him no peace, but said:
"Now our reckoning, man. Wind and storm are far from pleasant, butI know even worse company. There's room enough at the fire for fourcloaks, and in Holland for all the animals in Noah's ark, exceptSpaniards and the allies of Spain. Deuce take it, all the bile in myliver is stirred. Come to the horses with me, Herr Wilhelm, or there'llbe mischief."
The fencing-master, while uttering the last words, stared angrily atthe nobleman with his prominent eyes, which even under ordinarycircumstances, always looked as keen as if they had something marvellousto examine.
Wibisma pretended not to hear the provoking words, and, as thefencing-master left the room, walked calmly, with head erect, towardsthe musician, bowed courteously, and thanked him for the kindness he hadshown his son the day before.
"You are not in the least indebted to me," replied WilhelmCorneliussohn. "I helped the young nobleman, because it always has anill look when numbers attack one."
"Then allow me to praise this opinion," replied the baron.
"Opinion," repeated the musician with a subtle smile, drawing a fewnotes on the table.
The baron watched his fingers silently a short time, then advancednearer the young man, asking:
"Must everything now relate to political dissensions?"
"Yes," replied Wilhelm firmly, turning his face with a rapid movementtowards the older man. "In these times 'yes,' twenty times 'yes.' Youwouldn't do well to discuss opinions with me, Herr Matanesse."
"Every man," replied the nobleman, shrugging his shoulders, "everyman of course believes his own opinion the right one, yet he ought torespect the views of those who think differently."
"No, my lord," cried the musician. "In these times there is but oneopinion for us. I wish to share nothing, not even a drink at the table,with any man who has Holland blood, and feels differently. Excuse me, mylord; my travelling companion, as you have unfortunately learned, has animpatient temper and doesn't like to wait."
Wilhelm bowed distantly, waved his hand to Nicolas, approached thechimney-piece, took the half-dried cloaks on his arm, tossed a coinon the table and, holding in his hands a covered cage in which severalbirds were fluttering, left the room.
The baron gazed after him in silence. The simple words and the youngman's departure aroused painful emotions. He believed he desired whatwas right, yet at this moment a feeling stole over him that a stainrested on the cause he supported.
It is more endurable to be courted than avoided, and thus an expressionof deep annoyance rested on the nobleman's pleasant features as hereturned to his son.
Nicolas had not lost a single word uttered by the organist, and theblood left his ruddy cheeks as he was forced to see this man, whoseappearance had especially won his young heart, turn his back upon hisfather as if he were a dishonorable man to be avoided.
The words, with which Janus Dousa had left him the day before, returnedto his mind with great force, and when the baron again seated himselfopposite him, the boy raised his eyes and said hesitatingly, but withtouching ear
nestness and sincere anxiety:
"Father, what does that mean? Father--are they so wholly wrong, if theywould rather be Hollanders than Spaniards?"
Wibisma looked at his son with surprise and displeasure, and because hefelt his own firmness wavering, and a blustering word often does goodservice where there is lack of possibility or inclination to contendagainst reasons, he exclaimed more angrily than he had spoken to his sonfor years:
"Are you, too, beginning to relish the bait with which Orange luressimpletons? Another word of that kind, and I'll show you how malapertlads are treated. Here, landlord, what's the meaning of that nonsense onyonder tree?"
"The people, my lord, the Leyden fools are to blame for the mischief,not I. They decked the tree out in that ridiculous way, when the troopsstationed in the city during the siege retired. I keep this house as atenant of old Herr Van der Does, and dare not have any opinions of myown, for people must live, but, as truly as I hope for salvation, I'mloyal to King Philip."
"Until the Leyden burghers come out here again," replied Wibismabitterly. "Did you keep this inn during the siege?"
"Yes, my lord, the Spaniards had no cause to complain of me, and if apoor man's services are not too insignificant for you, they are at yourdisposal."
"Ah! ha!" muttered the baron, gazing attentively at the landlord'sdisagreeable face, whose little eyes glittered very craftily, thenturning to Nicolas, said:
"Go and watch the blackbirds in the window yonder a little while, myson, I have something to say to the host."
The youth instantly obeyed and as, instead of looking at the birds, hegazed after the two enthusiastic supporters of Holland's liberty, whowere riding along the road leading to Delft, remembered the simile offetters that drag men down, and saw rising before his mental visionthe glitter of the gold chain King Philip had sent his father, Nicolasinvoluntarily glanced towards him as he stood whispering eagerly withthe landlord. Now he even laid his hand on his shoulder. Was it rightfor him to hold intercourse with a man whom he must despise at heart?Or was he--he shuddered, for the word "traitor," which one of theschool-boys had shouted in his ears during the quarrel before thechurch, returned to his memory.
When the rain grew less violent, the travellers left the inn. The baronallowed the hideous landlord to kiss his hand at parting, but Nicolaswould not suffer him to touch his.
Few words were exchanged between father and son during the remainder oftheir ride to the Hague, but the musician and the fencing-master wereless silent on the way to Delft.
Wilhelm had modestly, as beseemed the younger man, suggested that hiscompanion had expressed his hostile feelings towards the nobleman tooopenly.
"True, perfectly true," replied Allertssohn, whom his friends called"Allerts." "Very true! Temper oh! temper! You don't suspect, HerrWilhelm--But we'll let it pass."
"No, speak, Meister."
"You'll think no better of me, if I do."
"Then let us talk of something else."
"No, Wilhelm. I needn't be ashamed, no one will take me for a coward."
The musician laughed, exclaiming: "You a coward! How many Spaniards hasyour Brescian sword killed?"
"Wounded, wounded, sir, far oftener than killed," replied the other. "Ifthe devil challenges me I shall ask: Foils, sir, or Spanish swords? Butthere's one person I do fear, and that's my best and at the same timemy worst friend, a Netherlander, like yourself, the man who rides herebeside you. Yes, when rage seizes upon me, when my beard begins totremble, my small share of sense flies away as fast as your doves whenyou let them go. You don't know me, Wilhelm."
"Don't I? How often must one see you in command and visit you in thefencing-room?"
"Pooh, pooh--there I'm as quiet as the water in yonder ditch--but whenanything goes against the grain, when--how shall I explain it to you,without similes?"
"Go on."
"For instance, when I am obliged to see a sycophant treated as if hewere Sir Upright--"
"So that vexes you greatly?"
"Vexes? No! Then I grow as savage as a tiger, and I ought not to be so,I ought not. Roland, my foreman, probably likes--"
"Meister, Meister, your beard is beginning to tremble already!"
"What did the Glippers think, when their aristocratic cloaks--"
"The landlord took yours and mine from the fire entirely on his ownresponsibility."
"I don't care! The crook-legged ape did it to honor the Spanishsycophant. It enraged me, it was intolerable."
"You didn't keep your wrath to yourself, and I was surprised to see howpatiently the baron bore your insults."
"That's just it, that's it!" cried the fencing-master, while his beardbegan to twitch violently. "That's what drove me out of the tavern,that's why I took to my heels. That--that--Roland, my fore man."
"I don't understand you."
"Don't you, don't you? How should you; but I'll explain. When you'reas old as I am, young man, you'll experience it too. There are fewperfectly sound trees in the forest, few horses without a blemish, fewswords without a stain, and scarcely a man who has passed his fortiethyear that has not a worm in his breast. Some gnaw slightly, otherstorture with sharp fangs, and mine--mine.--Do you want to cast a glancein here?"
The fencing-master struck his broad chest as he uttered these words and,without waiting for his companion's reply, continued:
"You know me and my life, Herr Wilhelm. What do I do, what do Ipractise? Only chivalrous work.
"My life is based upon the sword. Do you know a better blade or surerhand than mine? Do my soldiers obey me? Have I spared my blood infighting before the red walls and towers yonder? No, by my fore manRoland, no, no, a thousand times no."
"Who denies it, Meister Allerts? But tell me, what do you mean by yourcry: Roland, my fore man?"
"Another time, Wilhelm; you mustn't interrupt me now. Hear my storyabout where the worm hides in me. So once more: What I do, the calling Ifollow, is knightly work, yet when a Wibisma, who learned how to use hissword from my father, treats me ill and stirs up my bile, if I shouldpresume to challenge him, as would be my just right, what would he do?Laugh and ask: 'What will the passado cost, Fencing-master Allerts? Haveyou polished rapiers?' Perhaps he wouldn't even answer at all, and wesaw just now how he acts. His glance slipped past me like an eel, and hehad wax in his ears. Whether I reproach, or a cur yelps at him, is allthe same to his lordship. If only a Renneberg or Brederode had been inmy place just now, how quickly Wibisma's sword would have flown fromits sheath, for he understands how to fight and is no coward. But I--I?Nobody would willingly allow himself to be struck in the face, yet sosurely as my father was a brave man, even the worst insult could be moreeasily borne, than the feeling of being held in too slight esteem to beable to offer an affront. You see, Wilhelm, when the Glipper looked pastme--"
"Your beard lost its calmness."
"It's all very well for you to jest, you don't know--"
"Yes, yes, Herr Allerts; I understand you perfectly."
"And do you also understand, why I took myself and my sword out of doorsso quickly?"
"Perfectly; but please stop a moment with me now. The doves arefluttering so violently; they want air." The fencing-master stopped hissteed, and while Wilhelm was removing the dripping cloth from the littlecage that rested between him and his horse's neck, said:
"How can a man trouble himself about such gentle little creatures? Ifyou want to diminish, in behalf of feathered folk, the time given tomusic, tame falcons, that's a knightly craft, and I can teach you."
"Let my doves alone," replied Wilhelm. "They are not so harmless aspeople suppose, and have done good service in many a war, which iscertainly chivalrous pastime. Remember Haarlem. There, it's beginningto pour again. If my cloak were only not so short; I would like to coverthe doves with it."
"You certainly look like Goliath in David's garments."
"It's my scholar's cloak; I put my other on young Wibisma's shouldersyesterday."
"The Spanish green-finch?"
/>
"I told you about the boys' brawl."
"Yes, yes. And the monkey kept your cloak?"
"You came for me and wouldn't wait. They probably sent it back soonafter our departure."
"And their lordships expect thanks because the young nobleman acceptedit!"
"No, no; the baron expressed his gratitude."
"But that doesn't make your cape any longer. Take my cloak, Wilhelm.I've no doves to shelter, and my skin is thicker than yours."