Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch
Page 63
Two nights had gone by, and it was an hour or more past noon on thethird day, the day of Elsa's forced marriage. The snow had ceasedfalling and the rain had come instead, rain, pitiless, bitter andcontinual. Hidden in a nook at the north end of the Haarlemer Meer andalmost buried beneath bundles of reeds, partly as a protection from theweather and partly to escape the eyes of Spaniards, of whom companieswere gathering from every direction to besiege Haarlem, lay the bigboat. In it were Red Martin and Foy van Goorl. Mother Martha wasnot there for she had gone alone to an inn at a distance, to gatherinformation if she could. To hundreds of the boers in these parts shewas a known and trusted friend, although many of them might not chooseto recognise her openly, and from among them, unless, indeed, she hadbeen taken right away to Flanders, or even to Spain, she hoped to gathertidings of Elsa's whereabouts.
For two weary nights and days the Mare had been employed thus, but asyet without a shadow of success. Foy and Martin sat in the boat staringat each other gloomily; indeed Foy's face was piteous to see.
"What are you thinking of, master?" asked Martin presently.
"I am thinking," he answered, "that even if we find her now it will betoo late; whatever was to be done, murder or marriage, will be done."
"Time to trouble about that when we have found her," said Martin, for heknew not what else to say, and added, "listen, I hear footsteps."
Foy drew apart two of the bundles of reeds and looked out into thedriving rain.
"All right," he said, "it is Martha and a man."
Martin let his hand fall from the hilt of the sword Silence, for inthose days hand and sword must be near together. Another minute andMartha and her companion were in the boat.
"Who is this man?" asked Foy.
"He is a friend of mine named Marsh Jan."
"Have you news?"
"Yes, at least Marsh Jan has."
"Speak, and be swift," said Foy, turning on the man fiercely.
"Am I safe from vengeance?" asked Marsh Jan, who was a good fellowenough although he had drifted into evil company, looking doubtfully atFoy and Martin.
"Have I not said so," answered Martha, "and does the Mare break herword?"
Then Marsh Jan told his tale: How he was one of the party that twonights before had rowed Elsa, or at least a young woman who answered toher description, to the Red Mill, not far from Velzen, and how she wasin the immediate charge of a man and a woman who could be no other thanHague Simon and Black Meg. Also he told of her piteous appeal to theboatmen in the names of their wives and daughters, and at the telling ofit Foy wept with fear and rage, and even Martha gnashed her teeth. OnlyMartin cast off the boat and began to punt her out into deep water.
"Is that all?" asked Foy.
"That is all, Mynheer, I know nothing more, but I can explain to youwhere the place is."
"You can show us, you mean," said Foy.
The man expostulated. The weather was bad, there would be a flood, hiswife was ill and expected him, and so forth. Then he tried to get out ofthe boat, whereon, catching hold of him suddenly, Martin threw him intothe stern-sheets, saying:
"You could travel to this mill once taking with you a girl whom youknew to be kidnapped, now you can travel there again to get her out. Sitstill and steer straight, or I will make you food for fishes."
Then Marsh Jan professed himself quite willing to sail to the Red Mill,which he said they ought to reach by nightfall.
All that afternoon they sailed and rowed, till, with the darkness,before ever the mill was in sight, the great flood came down upon themand drove them hither and thither, such a flood as had not been seen inthose districts for a dozen years. But Marsh Jan knew his bearings well;he had the instinct of locality that is bred in those whose forefathersfor generations have won a living from the fens, and through it all heheld upon a straight course.
Once Foy thought that he heard a voice calling for help in the darkness,but it was not repeated and they went forward. At last the sky clearedand the moon shone out upon such a waste of waters as Noah might havebeheld from the ark. Only there were things floating in them that Noahwould scarcely have seen; hayricks, dead and drowning cattle, householdfurniture, and once even a coffin washed from some graveyard, whilebeyond stretched the dreary outline of the sand dunes.
"The mill should be near," said Marsh Jan, "let us put about." So theyturned, rowing with weary arms, for the wind had fallen.