Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch

by H. Rider Haggard

  Let us go back a little. Elsa, on escaping from the scene of her mockmarriage, fled to her room and bolted its door. A few seconds later sheheard hands hammering at it, and the voices of Hague Simon and Black Megcalling to her to open. She took no note, the hammering ceased, and thenit was that for the first time she became aware of a dreadful, roaringnoise, a noise of many waters. Time passed as it passes in a nightmare,till suddenly, above the dull roar, came sharp sounds as of woodcracking and splitting, and Elsa felt that the whole fabric of the millhad tilted. Beneath the pressure of the flood it had given where itwas weakest, at its narrow waist, and now its red cap hung over like awind-laid tree.

  Terror took hold of Elsa, and running to the door she opened it hopingto escape down the stairs. Behold! water was creeping up them, she couldsee it by the lantern in her hand--her retreat was cut off. But therewere other stairs leading to the top storey of the mill that now lay ata steep angle, and along these she climbed, since the water was pouringthrough her doorway and there was nowhere else to go. In the very roofof the place was a manhole with a rotten hatch. She passed through this,to find herself upon the top of the mill just where one of the greatnaked arms of the sails projected from it. Her lantern was blown out bynow, but she clung to the arm, and became aware that the wooden cap ofthe structure, still anchored to its brick foundation, lay upon its siderocking to and fro like a boat upon an angry sea. The water was nearher; that she knew by its seethe and rush, although she could not seeit, but as yet it did not even wet her feet.

  The hours went by, how many, she never learned, till at length theclouds cleared; the moon became visible, and by its light she saw anawful scene. Everywhere around was water; it lapped within a yard, andit was rising still. Now Elsa saw that in the great beam she claspedwere placed short spokes for the use of those who set the sails above.Up these she climbed as best she might, till she was able to pass herbody between two of the vanes and support her breast upon the flatsurface of one of them, as a person does who leans out of a window. Fromher window there was something to see. Quite near to her, but separatedby fifteen or twenty feet of yellow frothing water, a little portionof the swelling shape of the mill stood clear of the flood. To thisfoam-lapped island clung two human beings--Hague Simon and Black Meg.They saw her also and screamed for help, but she had none to give.Surely it was a dream--nothing so awful could happen outside a dream.

  The fabric of the mill tilted more and more; the space to which the twovile creatures hung grew less and less. There was no longer room forboth of them. They began to quarrel, to curse and jibber at each other,their fierce, bestial faces not an inch apart as they crouched there onhands and knees. The water rose a little, they were kneeling in it now,and the man, putting down his bald head, butted at the woman, almostthrusting her from her perch. But she was strong and active, shestruggled back again; she did more, with an eel-like wriggle she climbedupon his back, weighing him down. He strove to shake her off butcould not, for on that heaving, rolling surface he dared not loose hishand-grip, so he turned his flat and florid face, and, seizing herleg between his teeth, bit and worried at it. In her pain and rage Megscreeched aloud--that was the cry which Foy had heard. Then suddenlyshe drew a knife from her bosom--Elsa saw it flash in the moonlight--andstabbed downwards once, twice, thrice.

  Elsa shut her eyes. When she opened them again the woman was alone uponthe little patch of red boarding, her body splayed out over it like thatof a dead frog. So she lay a while till suddenly the cap of the Red Milldipped slowly like a lady who makes a Court curtsey, and she vanished.It rose again and Meg was still there, moaning in her terror and waterrunning from her dress. Then again it dipped, this time more deeply, andwhen the patch of rusty boarding slowly reappeared, it was empty. No,not quite, for clinging to it, yowling and spitting, was the half-wildblack cat which Elsa had seen wandering about the mill. But of Black Megthere was no trace.

  It was dreadfully cold up there hanging to the sail-bar, for now thatthe rain had finished, it began to freeze. Indeed, had it not chancedthat Elsa was dressed in her warm winter gown with fur upon it, and dryfrom her head to her feet, it is probable that she would have fallen offand perished in the water. As it was gradually her body became numb andher senses faded. She seemed to know that all this matter of her forcedmarriage, of the flood, and of the end of Simon and Meg, was nothing buta dream, a very evil nightmare from which she would awake presently tofind herself snug and warm in her own bed in the Bree Straat. Of courseit must be a nightmare, for look, there, on the bare patch of boardingbeneath, the hideous struggle repeated itself. There lay Hague Simongnawing at his wife's foot, only his fat, white face was gone, and inplace of it he wore the head of a cat, for she, the watcher, couldsee its glowing eyes fixed upon her. And Meg--look how her lean limbsgripped him round the body. Listen to the thudding noise as the greatknife fell between his shoulders. And now, see--she was growing tall,she had become a giantess, her face shot across the gulf of water andswam upwards through the shadows till it was within a foot of her. Oh!she must fall, but first she would scream for help--surely the deadthemselves could hear that cry. Better not have uttered it, it mightbring Ramiro back; better go to join the dead. What did the voice say,Meg's voice, but how changed? That she was not to be afraid? That thethudding was the sound of oars not of knife thrusts? This would beRamiro's boat coming to seize her. Of him and Adrian she could bear nomore; she would throw herself into the water and trust to God. One, two,three--then utter darkness.

  Elsa became aware that light was shining about her, also that somebodywas kissing her upon the face and lips. A horrible doubt struck her thatit might be Adrian, and she opened her eyes ever so little to look. No,no, how very strange, it was not Adrian, it was Foy! Well, doubtlessthis must be all part of her vision, and as in dream or out of itFoy had a perfect right to kiss her if he chose, she saw no reason tointerfere. Now she seemed to hear a familiar voice, that of Red Martin,asking someone how long it would take them to make Haarlem with thiswind, to which another voice answered, "About three-quarters of anhour."

  It was very odd, and why did he say Haarlem and not Leyden? Next thesecond voice, which also seemed familiar, said:

  "Look out, Foy, she's coming to herself." Then someone poured wine downher throat, whereupon, unable to bear this bewilderment any longer, Elsasat up and opened her eyes wide, to see before her Foy, and none otherthan Foy in the flesh.

  She gasped, and began to sink back again with joy and weakness,whereon he cast his arms about her and drew her to his breast. Then sheremembered everything.

  "Oh! Foy, Foy," she cried, "you must not kiss me."

  "Why not?" he asked.

  "Because--because I am married."

  Of a sudden his happy face became ghastly. "Married!" he stammered. "Whoto?"

  "To--your brother, Adrian."

  He stared at her in amazement, then asked slowly:

  "Did you run away from Leyden to marry him?"

  "How dare you ask such a question?" replied Elsa with a flash of spirit.

  "Perhaps, then, you would explain?"

  "What is there to explain? I thought that you knew. They dragged meaway, and last night, just before the flood burst, I was gagged andmarried by force."

  "Oh! Adrian, my friend," groaned Foy, "wait till I catch you, my friendAdrian."

  "To be just," explained Elsa, "I don't think Adrian wanted to marry memuch, but he had to choose between marrying me himself or seeing hisfather Ramiro marry me."

  "So he sacrificed himself--the good, kind-hearted man," interrupted Foy,grinding his teeth.

  "Yes," said Elsa.

  "And where is your self-denying--oh! I can't say the word."

  "I don't know. I suppose that he and Ramiro escaped in the boat, orperhaps he was drowned."

  "In which case you are a widow sooner than you could have expected,"said Foy more cheerfully, edging himself towards her.

  But Elsa moved a little away and Foy saw with a sinking of the heartthat, howe
ver distasteful it might be to her, clearly she attached someweight to this marriage.

  "I do not know," she answered, "how can I tell? I suppose that we shallhear sometime, and then, if he is still alive, I must set to work to getfree of him. But, till then, Foy," she added, warningly, "I suppose thatI am his wife in law, although I will never speak to him again. Whereare we going?"

  "To Haarlem. The Spaniards are closing in upon the city, and we dare nottry to break through their lines. Those are Spanish boats behind us. Buteat and drink a little, Elsa, then tell us your story."

  "One question first, Foy. How did you find me?"

  "We heard a woman scream twice, once far away and once near at hand,and rowing to the sound, saw someone hanging to the arm of an overturnedwindmill only three or four feet above the water. Of course we knew thatyou had been taken to the mill; that man there told us. Do you rememberhim? But at first we could not find it in the darkness and the flood."

  Then, after she had swallowed something, Elsa told her story, while thethree of them clustered round her forward of the sail, and Marsh Janmanaged the helm. When she had finished it, Martin whispered to Foy,and as though by a common impulse all four of them kneeled down upon theboards in the bottom of the boat, and returned thanks to the Almightythat this maiden, quite unharmed, had been delivered out of suchmanifold and terrible dangers, and this by the hands of her own friendsand of the man to whom she was affianced. When they had finished theirservice of thanksgiving, which was as simple as it was solemn andheartfelt, they rose, and now Elsa did not forbid that Foy should holdher hand.

  "Say, sweetheart," he asked, "is it true that you think anything of thisforced marriage?"

  "Hear me before you answer," broke in Martha. "It is no marriage at all,for none can be wed without the consent of their own will, and you gaveno such consent."

  "It is no marriage," echoed Martin, "and if it be, and I live, then thesword shall cut its knot."

  "It is no marriage," said Foy, "for although we have not stood togetherbefore the altar, yet our hearts are wed, so how can you be made thewife of another man?"

  "Dearest," replied Elsa, when they had all spoken, "I too am sure thatit is no marriage, yet a priest spoke the marriage words over me, and aring was thrust upon my hand, so, to the law, if there be any law leftin the Netherlands, I am perhaps in some sort a wife. Therefore, beforeI can become wife to you these facts must be made public, and I mustappeal to the law to free me, lest in days to come others should betroubled."

  "And if the law cannot, or will not, Elsa, what then?"

  "Then, dear, our consciences being clean, we will be a law to ourselves.But first we must wait a while. Are you satisfied now, Foy?"

  "No," answered Foy sulkily, "for it is monstrous that such devil's workshould keep us apart even for an hour. Yet in this, as in all, I willobey you, dear."

  "Marrying and giving in marriage!" broke in Martha in a shrill voice."Talk no more of such things, for there is other work before us. Lookyonder, girl, what do you see?" and she pointed to the dry land. "Thehosts of the Amalekites marching in their thousands to slaughter us andour brethren, the children of the Lord. Look behind you, what do yousee? The ships of the tyrant sailing up to encompass the city of thechildren of the Lord. It is the day of death and desolation, the day ofArmageddon, and ere the sun sets red upon it many a thousand must passthrough the gates of doom, we, mayhap, among them. Then up with theflag of freedom; out with the steel of truth, gird on the buckler ofrighteousness, and snatch the shield of hope. Fight, fight for theliberty of the land that bore you, for the memory of Christ, the Kingwho died for you, for the faith to which you are born; fight, fight, andwhen the fray is done, then, and not before, think of peace and love.

  "Nay, children, look not so fearful, for I, the mad mere-wife, tell you,by the Grace of God, that you have naught to fear. Who preserved you inthe torture den, Foy van Goorl? What hand was it that held your life andhonour safe when you sojourned among devils in the Red Mill yonder andkept your head above the waters of the flood, Elsa Brant? You know well,and I, Martha, tell you that this same hand shall hold you safe untilthe end. Yes, I know it, I know it; thousands shall fall upon your righthand and tens of thousands upon your left, but you shall live throughthe hunger; the arrows of pestilence shall pass you by, the sword ofthe wicked shall not harm you. For me it is otherwise, at length my doomdraws near and I am well content; but for you twain, Foy and Elsa, Iforetell many years of earthly joy."

  Thus spoke Martha, and it seemed to those who watched her that her wild,disfigured face shone with a light of inspiration, nor did they who knewher story, and still believed that the spirit of prophecy could open theeyes of chosen seers, deem it strange that vision of the things to beshould visit her. At the least they took comfort from her words, and fora while were no more afraid.

  Yet they had much to fear. By a fateful accident they had been deliveredfrom great dangers only to fall into dangers greater still, for as itchanced, on this tenth of December, 1572, they sailed straight into thegrasp of the thousands of the Spanish armies which had been drawn likea net round the doomed city of Haarlem. There was no escape for them;nothing that had not wings could pass those lines of ships and soldiers.Their only refuge was the city, and in that city they must bide till thestruggle, one of the most fearful of all that hideous war, was ended.But at least they had this comfort, they would face the foe together,and with them were two who loved them, Martha, the "Spanish Scourge,"and Red Martin, the free Frisian, the mighty man of war whom God hadappointed to them as a shield of defence.

  So they smiled on each other, these two lovers of long ago, and sailedbravely on to the closing gates of Haarlem.