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Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch

Page 58

by H. Rider Haggard


  CHAPTER XXV

  THE RED MILL

  After a week's experience of that delectable dwelling and itsneighbourhood, Adrian began to grow weary of the Red Mill. Nine orten Dutch miles to the nor'west of Haarlem is a place called Velsen,situated on the borders of the sand-dunes, to the south of what isknown to-day as the North Sea Canal. In the times of which this page ofhistory tells, however, the canal was represented by a great drainagedyke, and Velsen was but a deserted village. Indeed, hereabouts all thecountry was deserted, for some years before a Spanish force had passedthrough it, burning, slaying, laying waste, so that few were left totend the windmills and repair the dyke. Holland is a country won fromswamps and seas, and if the water is not pumped out of it, and theditches are not cleaned, very quickly it relapses into primeval marsh;indeed, it is fortunate if the ocean, bursting through the feeblebarriers reared by the industry of man, does not turn it into vastlagoons of salt water.

  Once the Red Mill had been a pumping station, which, when the huge sailsworked, delivered the water from the fertile meadows into the greatdyke, whence it ran through sluice gates to the North Sea. Now, althoughthe embankment of this dyke still held, the meadows had gone back intoswamps. Rising out of these--for it was situated upon a low mound ofearth, raised, doubtless, as a point of refuge by marsh-dwellerswho lived and died before history began, towered the wreck of anarrow-waisted windmill, built of brick below and wood above, of verylonesome and commanding appearance in its gaunt solitude. There were nohouses near it, no cattle grazed about its foot; it was a dead thing ina dead landscape. To the left, but separated from it by a wide and slimydyke, whence in times of flood the thick, brackish water trickled to theplain, stretched an arid area of sand-dunes, clothed with sparse grass,that grew like bristles upon the back of a wild hog. Beyond these dunesthe ocean roared and moaned and whispered hungrily as the wind andweather stirred its depths. In front, not fifty paces away, ran the bigdyke like a raised road, secured by embankments, and discharging day byday its millions of gallons of water into the sea. But these embankmentswere weakening now, and here and there could be seen a spot which lookedas though a giant ploughshare had been drawn up them, for a groove ofbrown earth scarred the face of green, where in some winter flood thewater had poured over to find its level, cutting them like cheese, butwhen its volume sank, leaving them still standing, and as yet sufficientfor their purpose.

  To the right again and behind, were more marshes, broken only in thedistance by the towers of Haarlem and the spires of village churches,marshes where the snipe and bittern boomed, the herons fed, and insummer the frogs croaked all night long.

  Such was the refuge to which Ramiro and his son, Adrian, had been led byHague Simon and Black Meg, after they had escaped with their lives fromLeyden upon the night of the image-breaking in the church, that ominousnight when the Abbe Dominic gave up the ghost on the arm of thelofty Rood, and Adrian had received absolution and baptism from hisconsecrated hand.

  On the journey hither Adrian asked no questions as to their destination;he was too broken in heart and too shaken in body to be curious; life inthose days was for him too much of a hideous phantasmagoria of wasteand blackness out of which appeared vengeful, red-handed figures, out ofwhich echoed dismal, despairing voices calling him to doom.

  They came to the place and found its great basement and the floorsabove, or some of them, furnished after a fashion. The mill had beeninhabited, and recently, as Adrian gathered, by smugglers, or thieves,with whom Meg and Simon were in alliance, or some such outcastevil-doers who knew that here the arm of the law could not reach them.Though, indeed, while Alva ruled in the Netherlands there was little lawto be feared by those who were rich or who dared to worship God aftertheir own manner.

  "Why have we come here--father," Adrian was about to add, but the wordstuck in his throat.

  Ramiro shrugged his shoulders and looked round him with his onecriticising eye.

  "Because our guides and friends, the worthy Simon and his wife, assureme that in this spot alone our throats are for the present safe, andby St. Pancras, after what we saw in the church yonder I am inclinedto agree with them. He looked a poor thing up under the roof there, theholy Father Dominic, didn't he, hanging up like a black spider from theend of his cord? Bah! my backbone aches when I think of him."

  "And how long are we to stop here?"

  "Till--till Don Frederic has taken Haarlem and these fat Hollanders, orthose who are left of them, lick our boots for mercy," and he groundhis teeth, then added: "Son, do you play cards? Good, well let us havea game. Here are dice; it will serve to turn our thoughts. Now then, ahundred guilders on it."

  So they played and Adrian won, whereon, to his amazement, his fatherpaid him the money.

  "What is the use of that?" asked Adrian.

  "Gentlemen should always pay their debts at cards."

  "And if they cannot?"

  "Then they must keep score of the amount and discharge it when they areable. Look you, young man, everything else you may forget, but what youlose over the dice is a debt of honour. There lives no man who can saythat I cheated him of a guilder at cards, though I fear some others havemy name standing in their books."

  When they rose from their game that night Adrian had won between threeand four hundred florins. Next day his winnings amounted to a thousandflorins, for which his father gave him a carefully-executed note ofhand; but at the third sitting the luck changed or perhaps skill beganto tell, and he lost two thousand florins. These he paid up by returninghis father's note, his own winnings, and all the balance of the purseof gold which his mother had given to him when he was driven from thehouse, so that now he was practically penniless.

  The rest of the history may be guessed. At every game the stakeswere increased, for since Adrian could not pay, it was a matter ofindifference to him how much he wagered. Moreover, he found a kind ofmild excitement in playing at the handling of such great sums of money.By the end of a week he had lost a queen's dowry. As they rose from thetable that night his father filled in the usual form, requested him tobe so good as to sign it, and a sour-faced woman who had arrived at themill, Adrian knew not whence, to do the household work, to put her nameas witness.

  "What is the use of this farce?" asked Adrian. "Brant's treasure wouldscarcely pay that bill."

  His father pricked his ears.

  "Indeed? I lay it at as much again. What is the use? Who knows--one dayyou might become rich, for, as the great Emperor said, 'Fortune is awoman who reserves her favours for the young,' and then, doubtless,being the man of honour that you are, you would wish to pay your oldgambling debts."

  "Oh! yes, I should pay if I could," answered Adrian with a yawn. "But itseems hardly worthy while talking about, does it?" and he sauntered outof the place into the open air.

  His father rose, and, standing by the great peat fire, watched himdepart thoughtfully.

  "Let me take stock of the position," he said to himself. "The dear childhasn't a farthing left; therefore, although he is getting bored,he can't run away. Moreover, he owes me more money than I ever saw;therefore, if he should chance to become the husband of theJufvrouw Brant, and the legal owner of her parent's wealth, whateverdisagreements may ensue between him and me I shall have earned my shareof it in a clean and gentlemanly fashion. If, on the other hand, itshould become necessary for me to marry the young lady, which Godforbid, at least no harm is done, and he will have had the advantage ofsome valuable lessons from the most accomplished card-player in Spain.

  "And now what we need to enliven this detestable place is the presenceof Beauty herself. Our worthy friends should be back soon--bringingtheir sheaves with them, let us hope, for otherwise matters will becomplicated. Let me see: have I thought of everything, for in suchaffairs one oversight--He is a Catholic, therefore can contract a legalmarriage under the Proclamations--it was lucky I remembered that pointof law, though it nearly cost us all our lives--and the priest, I canlay my hands on him, a discreet man, who won't h
ear if the lady saysNo, but filled beyond a question with the power and virtue of hisholy office. No, I have nothing to reproach myself with in the way ofprecaution, nothing at all. I have sown the seed well and truly, itremains only for Providence to give the increase, or shall I say--no, Ithink not, for between the general and the private familiarity is alwaysodious. Well, it is time that you met with a little success and settleddown, for you have worked hard, Juan, my friend, and you are gettingold--yes, Juan, you are getting old. Bah! what a hole and what weather!"and Montalvo established himself by the fireside to doze away his_ennui_.

  When Adrian shut the door behind him the late November day was drawingto its close, and between the rifts in the sullen snow clouds nowand again an arrow from the westering sun struck upon the tall,skeleton-like sails of the mill, through which the wind rushed with ascreaming noise. Adrian had intended to walk on the marsh, but findingit too sodden, he crossed the western dyke by means of a board laid frombank to bank, and struck into the sand-dunes beyond. Even in the summer,when the air was still and flowers bloomed and larks sang, these duneswere fantastic and almost unnatural in appearance, with their deep,wind-scooped hollows of pallid sand, their sharp angles, miniaturecliffs, and their crests crowned with coarse grasses. But now, beneaththe dull pall of the winter sky, no spot in the world could have beenmore lonesome or more desolate, for never a sign of man was to beseen upon them and save for a solitary curlew, whose sad note reachedAdrian's ears as it beat up wind from the sea, even the beasts and birdsthat dwelt there had hidden themselves away. Only the voices of Natureremained in all their majesty, the drear screams and moan of the rushingwind, and above it, now low and now voluminous as the gale veered, thedeep and constant roar of the ocean.

  Adrian reached the highest crest of the ridge, whence the sea, hiddenhitherto, became suddenly visible, a vast, slate-coloured expanse,twisted here and there into heaps, hollowed here and there into valleys,and broken everywhere with angry lines and areas of white. In suchtrouble, for, after its own fashion, his heart was troubled, sometemperaments might have found a kind of consolation in this sight, forwhile we witness them, at any rate, the throes and moods of Nature intheir greatness declare a mastery of our senses, and stun or hush tosilence the petty turmoil of our souls. This, at least, is so with thosewho have eyes to read the lesson written on Nature's face, and earsto hear the message which day by day she delivers with her lips; giftsgiven only to such as hold the cypher-key of imagination, and pray forgrace to use it.

  In Adrian's case, however, the weirdness of the sand-hills and thegrandeur of the seascape with the bitter wind that blew between and thesolitude which brooded over all, served only to exasperate nerves thatalready were strained well nigh to breaking.

  Why had his father brought him to this hideous swamp bordered by asailless sea? To save their lives from the fury of the mob? This heunderstood, but there was more in it than that, some plot which he didnot understand, and which the ruffian, Hague Simon, and that she-fiend,his companion, had gone away to execute. Meanwhile he must sit here dayafter day playing cards with the wretch Ramiro, whom, for no fault ofhis own, God had chosen out to be his parent. By the way, why was theman so fond of playing cards? And what was the meaning of all thatnonsense about notes of hand? Yes, here he must sit, and for company hehad the sense of his unalterable shame, the memory of his mother's faceas she spurned and rejected him, the vision of the woman whom he lovedand had lost, and--the ghost of Dirk van Goorl.

  He shivered as he thought of it; yes, his hair lifted and his liptwitched involuntarily, for to Adrian's racked nerves and distortedvision this ghost of the good man whom he had betrayed was no child ofphantasy. He had woken in the night and seen it standing at his bedside,plague-defiled and hunger-wasted, and because of it he dreaded to sleepalone, especially in that creaking, rat-haunted mill, whose very boardseemed charged with some tale of death and blood. Heavens! At this verymoment he thought he could hear that dead voice calling down thegale. No, it must be the curlew, but at least he would be going home.Home--that place home--with not even a priest near to confess to and becomforted!

  Thanks be to the Saints! the wind had dropped a little, but now in placeof it came the snow, dense, whirling, white; so dense indeed that hecould scarcely see his path. What an end that would be, to be frozen todeath in the snow on these sand-hills while the spirit of Dirk van Goorlsat near and watched him die with those hollow, hungry eyes. The sweatcame upon Adrian's forehead at the thought, and he broke into a run,heading for the bank of the great dyke that pierced the dunes half amile or so away, which bank must, he knew, lead him to the mill. Hereached it and trudged along what had been the towpath, though now itwas overgrown with weeds and rushes. It was not a pleasant journey, forthe twilight had closed in with speed and the thick flakes, that seemedto heap into his face and sting him, turned it into a darknessmottled with faint white. Still he stumbled forward with bent head andclose-wrapped cloak till he judged that he must be near to the mill, andhalted staring through the gloom.

  Just then the snow ceased for a while and light crept back to the coldface of the earth, showing Adrian that he had done well to halt. Infront of where he stood, within a few paces of his feet indeed, for adistance of quite twenty yards the lower part of the bank had slippedaway, washed from the stone core with which it was faced at thispoint, by a slow and neglected percolation of water. Had he walked ontherefore, he would have fallen his own height or more into a slough ofmud, whence he might, or might not have been able to extricate himself.As it was, however, by such light as remained he could crawl upon thecoping of the stonework which was still held in place with old strutsof timber that, until they had been denuded by the slow and constantleakage, were buried and supported in the vanished earthwork. It was nota pleasant bridge, for to the right lay the mud-bottomed gulf, and tothe left, almost level with his feet, were the black and peaty waters ofthe rain-fed dyke pouring onwards to the sea.

  "Next flood this will go," thought Adrian to himself, "and then themarsh must become a mere which will be bad for whomever happens to beliving in the Red Mill." He was on firm ground again now, and there,looming tall and spectral against the gloom, not five hundred yardsaway, rose the gaunt sails of the mill. To reach it he walked on sixscore paces or more to the little landing-quay, where a raised path ranto the building. As he drew near to it he was astonished to hear therattle of oars working in rollocks and a man's voice say:

  "Steady, here is the place, praise the Saints! Now, then, out passengersand let us be gone."

  Adrian, whom events had made timid, drew beneath the shadow of the bankand watched, while from the dim outline of the boat arose three figures,or rather two figures arose, dragging the third between them.

  "Hold her," said a voice that seemed familiar, "while I give these mentheir hire," and there followed a noise of clinking coin, mingled withsome oaths and grumbling about the weather and the distance, which wereabated with more coin. Then again the oars rattled and the boat waspushed off, whereon a sweet voice cried in agonised tones:

  "Sirs, you who have wives and daughters, will you leave me in the handsof these wretches? In the name of God take pity upon my helplessness."

  "It is a shame, and she so fair a maid," grumbled another thick andraucous voice, but the steersman cried, "Mind your business, Marsh Jan.We have done our job and got our pay, so leave the gentry to settletheir own love affairs. Good night to you, passengers; give way, giveway," and the boat swung round and vanished into the gloom.

  For a moment Adrian's heart stood still; then he sprang forward to seebefore him Hague Simon, the Butcher, Black Meg his wife, and betweenthem a bundle wrapped in shawls.

  "What is this?" he asked.

  "You ought to know, Heer Adrian," answered Black Meg with a chuckle,"seeing that this charming piece of goods has been brought all the wayfrom Leyden, regardless of expense, for your especial benefit."

  The bundle lifted its head, and the faint light shone upon the white andterrified
face of--Elsa Brant.

  "May God reward you for this evil deed, Adrian, called van Goorl," saidthe pitiful voice.

  "This deed! What deed?" he stammered in answer. "I know nothing of it,Elsa Brant."

  "You know nothing of it? Yet it was done in your name, and you arehere to receive me, who was kidnapped as I walked outside Leyden to bedragged hither with force by these monsters. Oh! have you no heart andno fear of judgment that you can speak thus?"

  "Free her," roared Adrian, rushing at the Butcher to see a knifegleaming in his hand and another in that of Black Meg.

  "Stop your nonsense, Master Adrian, and stand back. If you have anythingto say, say it to your father, the Count. Come, let us pass, for we arecold and weary," and taking Elsa by the elbows they brushed past him,nor, indeed, even had he not been too bewildered to interfere, couldAdrian have stayed them, for he was unarmed. Besides, where would bethe use, seeing that the boat had gone and that they were alone on awinter's night in the wind-swept wilderness, with no refuge for milessave such as the mill house could afford. So Adrian bent his head, forthe snow had begun to fall again, and, sick at heart, followed themalong the path. Now he understood at length why they had come to the RedMill.

  Simon opened the door and entered, but Elsa hung back at its ill-omenedthreshold. She even tried to struggle a little, poor girl, whereon theruffian in front jerked her towards him with an oath, so that she caughther foot and fell upon her face. This was too much for Adrian. Springingforward he struck the Butcher full in the mouth with his fist, andnext moment they were rolling over and over each other upon the floor,struggling fiercely for the knife which Simon held.

  During all her life Elsa never forgot that scene. Behind her the howlingblackness of the night and the open door, through which flake by flakethe snow leapt into the light. In front the large round room, fashionedfrom the basement of the mill, lit only by the great fire of turfs and asingle horn lantern, hung from the ceiling that was ribbed with beamsof black and massive oak. And there, in this forbidding, naked-lookingplace, that rocked and quivered as the gale caught the tall arms of themill above, seated by the hearth in a rude chair of wood and sleeping,one man, Ramiro, the Spanish sleuth-hound, who had hunted down herfather, he whom above every other she held in horror and in hate; andtwo, Adrian and the spy, at death-grips on the floor, between them thesheen of a naked knife.

  Such was the picture.

  Ramiro awoke at the noise, and there was fear on his face as though someill dream lingered in his brain. Next instant he saw and understood.

  "I will run the man through who strikes another blow," he said, in acold clear voice as he drew his sword. "Stand up, you fools, and tell mewhat this means."

  "It means that this brute beast but now threw Elsa Brant upon her face,"gasped Adrian as he rose, "and I punished him."

  "It is a lie," hissed the other; "I pulled the minx on, that is all, andso would you have done, if you had been cursed with such a wild-cat forfour-and-twenty hours. Why, when we took her she was more trouble tohold than any man."

  "Oh! I understand," interrupted Ramiro, who had recovered his composure;"a little maidenly reluctance, that is all, my worthy Simon, and as forthis young gentleman, a little lover-like anxiety--doubtless in bygoneyears you have felt the same," and he glanced mockingly at Black Meg."So do not be too ready to take offence, good Simon. Youth will beyouth."

  "And Youth will get a knife between its ribs if it is not careful,"grumbled Hague Simon, as he spat out a piece of broken tooth.

  "Why am I brought here, Senor," broke in Elsa, "in defiance of laws andjustice?"

  "Laws! Mejufvrouw, I did not know that there were any left in theNetherlands; justice! well, all is fair in love and war, as any ladywill admit. And the reason why--I think you must ask Adrian, he knowsmore about it than I do."

  "He says that he knows nothing, Senor."

  "Does he, the rogue? Does he indeed? Well, it would be rude tocontradict him, wouldn't it, so I for one unreservedly accept hisstatement that he knows nothing, and I advise you to do the same. No,no, my boy, do not trouble to explain, we all quite understand. Now, mygood dame," he went on addressing the serving-woman who had enteredthe place, "take this young lady to the best room you have above. And,listen, both of you, she is to be treated with all kindness, do youhear, for if any harm comes to her, either at your hands or her own,by Heaven! you shall pay for it to the last drop of your blood. Now, noexcuses and--no mistakes."

  The two women, Meg and the other, nodded and motioned to Elsa toaccompany them. She considered a moment, looking first at Ramiro andnext at Adrian. Then her head dropped upon her breast, and turningwithout a word she followed them up the creaking oaken stair that rosefrom a niche near the wall of the ingle-nook.

  "Father," said Adrian when the massive door had closed behind her andthey were left alone--"father--for I suppose that I must call you so."

  "There is not the slightest necessity," broke in Ramiro; "facts, my dearson, need not always be paraded in the cold light of day--fortunately.But, proceed."

  "What does all this mean?"

  "I wish I could tell you. It appears to mean, however, that without anyeffort upon your part, for you seem to me a young man singularly devoidof resource, your love affairs are prospering beyond expectation."

  "I have had nothing to do with the business; I wash my hands of it."

  "That is as well. Some sensitive people might think they need a dealof washing. You young fool," he went on, dropping his mocking manner,"listen to me. You are in love with this pink and white piece of goods,and I have brought her here for you to marry."

  "And I refuse to marry her against her will."

  "As to that you can please yourself. But somebody has got to marryher--you, or I."

  "You--_you!_" gasped Adrian.

  "Quite so. The adventure is not one, to be frank, that attracts me. Atmy age memories are sufficient. But material interests must be attendedto, so if you decline--well, I am still eligible and hearty. Do you seethe point?"

  "No, what is it?"

  "It is a sound title to the inheritance of the departed Hendrik Brant.That wealth we might, it is true, obtain by artifice or by arms; but howmuch better that it should come into the family in a regular fashion,thereby ousting the claim of the Crown. Things in this country aredisturbed at present, but they will not always be disturbed, for in theend somebody must give way and order will prevail. Then questions mightbe asked, for persons in possession of great riches are always the markof envy. But if the heiress is married to a good Catholic and loyalsubject of the king, who can cavil at rights sanctified by the laws ofGod and man? Think it over, my dear Adrian, think it over. Step-motheror wife--you can take your choice."

  With impotent rage, with turmoil of heart and torment of conscience,Adrian did think it over. All that night he thought, tossing on hisrat-haunted pallet, while without the snow whirled and the wind beat. Ifhe did not marry Elsa, his father would, and there could be no doubt asto which of these alternatives would be best and happiest for her.Elsa married to that wicked, cynical, devil-possessed, battered,fortune-hunting adventurer with a nameless past! This must beprevented at any cost. With his father her lot _must_ be a hell; withhimself--after a period of storm and doubt perhaps--it could scarcelybe other than happy, for was he not young, handsome, sympathetic,and--devoted? Ah! there was the real point. He loved this lady with allthe earnestness of which his nature was capable, and the thought of herpassing into the possession of another man gave him the acutest anguish.That the man should be Foy, his half-brother, was bad enough; that itshould be Ramiro, his father, was insupportable.

  At breakfast the following morning, when Elsa did not appear, the pairmet.

  "You look pale, Adrian," said his father presently. "I fear that thiswild weather kept you awake last night, as it did me, although at yourage I have slept through the roar of a battle. Well, have you thoughtover our conversation? I do not wish to trouble you with these incessantfamily matters,
but times presses, and it is necessary to decide."

  Adrian looked out of the lattice at the snow, which fell and fellwithout pause. Then he turned and said:

  "Yes. Of the two it is best that she should marry me, though I thinkthat such a crime will bring its own reward."

  "Wise young man," answered his father. "Under all your cloakings ofvagary I observe that you have a foundation of common-sense, just as thegiddiest weathercock is bedded on a stone. As for the reward, consideredproperly it seems to be one upon which I can heartily congratulate you."

  "Peace to that talk," said Adrian, angrily; "you forget that there aretwo parties to such a contract; her consent must be gained, and I willnot ask it."

  "No? Then I will; a few arguments occur to me. Now look here, friend, wehave struck a bargain, and you will be so good as to keep it or to takethe consequences--oh! never mind what they are. I will bring this ladyto the altar--or, rather, to that table, and you will marry her, afterwhich you can settle matters just exactly as you please; live with heras your wife, or make your bow and walk away, which, I care nothing solong as you are married. Now I am weary of all this talk, so be so goodas to leave me in peace on the subject."

  Adrian looked at him, opened his lips to speak, then changed his mindand marched out of the house into the blinding snow.

  "Thank Heaven he is gone at last!" reflected his father, and called forHague Simon, with whom he held a long and careful interview.

  "You understand?" he ended.

  "I understand," answered Simon, sulkily. "I am to find this priest,who should be waiting at the place you name, and to bring him here bynightfall to-morrow, which is a rough job for a Christian man in suchweather as this."

  "The pay, friend Simon, remember the pay."

  "Oh! yes, it all sounds well enough, but I should like something onaccount."

  "You shall have it--is not such a labourer worthy of his hire?" repliedhis employer with enthusiasm, and producing from his pocket the pursewhich Lysbeth had given Adrian, with a smile of peculiar satisfaction,for really the thing had a comic side, he counted a handsome sum intothe hand of this emissary of Venus.

  Simon looked at the money, concluded, after some reflection, that itwould scarcely do to stand out for more at present, pouched it, andhaving wrapped himself in a thick frieze coat, opened the door andvanished into the falling snow.

 

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