"I knew that we were betrayed ... then ... there ... at once ... and by her ... an exquisite woman, Messire, whom I ... Oh! it was horrible!" he exclaimed, and even now a look that was almost like death came over his wan cheeks and hollow eyes.
Then once more he resumed quietly: "For a few moments the blow of this awful discovery completely stunned me. I could neither think nor act.
My first coherent thought was to consult with my mother as to what had best be done. How to find His Highness until evening I knew not, or how to obtain duplicate lists, so that I could run round the town and warn all our followers of the terrible danger that threatened them."
"You did not think of flight? ... for your mother, I mean?..."
"I entreated my mother to leave the city at once, but she refused to go, and we were standing face to face with one another and the terrible calamity that had befallen us all when Pierre came in with a letter, which--he said--was given to him in the open street by a man whom he did not know. The letter, I take it, came from you."
"Yes," replied the other, "I was afraid that you might do something rash, and raise the alarm before it was necessary. The lists," he added, "are quite safe. I was able after His Highness left the High-Bailiff"s house last night to extract them from the bureau, where I did not feel that they were over safe; in their place I put a packet containing fict.i.tious lists of men who do not exist, and places of abode which are not to be found in this city. It is these which have been sent to senor de Vargas. I had just time to scribble these and to place them in a conspicuous place in the bureau."
"You used a false key then?" queried Laurence in bewilderment.
"Am I not a spy of the Prince of Orange?" retorted the other with a quaint little laugh, "and are not all spies provided with means of forcing secret locks? Here are the lists," he added, as from inside his doublet he half drew the packets of papers. "When you are called to account for them, you can return them without fear. No one will know that they ever left your care ... that is, if you have not spoken of it before now...."
"No. I had not the heart. We all knew that we were betrayed. You warned us all and took measures to convene us here to-night; but until the hour when your letter warned me that for the moment all was well, I endured mental torments such as surely the lost souls in h.e.l.l have never suffered. I saw those lists in the hands of our tyrants--placed there by the instrumentality of a woman who is to me the embodiment of all that is pure and good; I saw--in my mind--the spies of Alva going the round, this very night, and arresting our brave followers one by one ...
Oh G.o.d! you do not know what I suffered...."
"Do not think of that any more, Messire," rejoined Leatherface quietly.
"As you see, the lists are now safe in my care. Alas! it is too late to beg you to take your mother out of the city. Guard and protect her well and G.o.d help us all."
He once more now prepared to go, and Laurence was ready to follow him, but just at the last an impulse caused the latter to detain the mysterious stranger once more. There was still one question which hovered on his lips, the answer to which would perhaps ease that awful burden of sorrow which Lenora"s betrayal had placed upon his soul:
"Messire," he said appealingly, "what of her?"
"Pray for her, Messire," replied Leatherface quietly, "she suffers more than you do."
"Must we all curse her then? or else be traitors to our own people."
"Nay! you can pity her! What she did, she did from her own sense of patriotism and of justice. She hates us all, Messire, as the enemies of her people. She hates and despises me as the a.s.sa.s.sin of the man she loved. Pray for her, Messire, but in pity pray also for the man who whilst striving to win her heart, only succeeded in breaking his own."
VI
An hour later in the house in the Nieuwstraat, Clemence van Rycke was still awake. She sat in her favourite tall chair beside the hearth, and Laurence her son was kneeling beside her.
"It is too late now, mother," he was saying gloomily. "No power on earth can save you. Would to G.o.d you had let me take you to Brugge this afternoon."
"And desert my post like a coward," retorted Clemence hotly. "I can do little, "tis true; but when the hour comes I can tend the sick and the dying, and pray for the dead; and if you are taken from me, Laurence, I can be laid beside you.... But," she added, with such an intensity of bitterness and hatred that her voice nearly choked her as she spoke, "I would not owe my safety to that execrable traitress..."
"Hush, mother, in the name of Heaven..." broke in Laurence with a heart-broken sob.
"Are you, too, going to defend her?" retorted the mother fiercely.
"She was compelled to act as she did," murmured Laurence; "she acted in ignorance and innocence. I"d stake my life that she is pure and good."
"Pure and good!" exclaimed Clemence with a strident laugh. "A sp.a.w.n of the devil, without virtue and without mercy. Oh! that my lips should ever have touched her lying face--that white forehead which concealed thoughts of falsehood and treachery! Do not defend her, Laurence, or you will break my heart. Leave her defence to your brother Mark, who cares nothing for his country and for his kindred, who will smile and drink whilst the walls of Ghent fall about his ears, who hath allowed his weak and cowardly heart to be captured by that murderess! Leave him to defend her, I say. Lenora de Vargas is worthy of Mark van Rycke!"
"Mother!" cried Laurence with uncontrolled vehemence as he threw his arms round his mother"s shoulders. "In the name of G.o.d stop, for you almost blaspheme. Speak not of Mark save with a blessing on your lips.
Pray for him this night, as you have never prayed before."
"Laurence," cried the mother, "are you mad? What do you mean? What has happened to Mark? Where is he?"
"In his bed, no doubt, at this moment, mother."
"Sleeping whilst we all weep and pray!"
"Sleeping in peace whilst giving up life, and more than life, to try and save us all!" retorted Laurence, as he slowly rose to his feet.
"Laurence! you are mad! Mark is..."
"Mark is the friend and saviour of the Prince of Orange, mother dear,"
said the young man quietly, "and we have all known him hitherto as Leatherface."
"It is false!" cried Clemence vehemently.
"I swear by G.o.d that it is true," proclaimed Laurence, fervently.
The exclamation which she would have uttered froze upon Clemence van Rycke"s lips; for a moment she remained quite still, leaning slightly forward with hands resting upon the arms of the chair. Then a pitiable moan escaped her, and slowly she rose and then fell upon her knees.
"Oh G.o.d! forgive me," she cried, "if this be true."
"It is true, mother," said Laurence firmly. "For close on two hours to-night I sat close to him whilst he spoke. In the absence of the Prince of Orange we have chosen him as our leader; if the Duke of Alva refuses the proposals which we are going to put before him, Mark will lead us to fight or to death."
"The proposal! What proposal?"
"That Leatherface be given up to the tyrant as the price of the safety of the city."
"And you--his brother--agreed to this infamous suggestion?" murmured Clemence hoa.r.s.ely.
"We must not leave a stone unturned or a man alive to save the women and children," replied Laurence sombrely.
"Then may G.o.d have mercy on us all!" cried Clemence, and she fell back heart-broken against the cushions of her chair.
CHAPTER XIV
THE TYRANTS
I
The next morning, at the tenth hour, five reverend seigniors presented themselves before the Duke of Alva, Lieutenant-Governor of the Low Countries and Captain-General of the Forces, in the apartments which he occupied in Het Spanjaards Kasteel.
They were Messire Pierre van Overbeque, Vice-Bailiff of Ghent; Messire Deynoot, Procurator-General, and Messire Jan van Migrode, Chief Sheriff of the Keure; then there was Messire Lievin van Deynse, the brewer at the sign of the "Star of the North," and Baron van Groobendock, chief financial adviser on the Town Council.