CHAPTER XI.
Although the soldiers that Albert Maurice and his companion had passed at the gate, with the usual reckless gaiety of their profession, had been found laughing lightly, and jesting with each other, yet it soon became evident to the eyes of the travellers, as they passed onward through the long irregular streets of the city, that something had occurred to affect the population of Ghent in an unusual manner.
Scarce a soul was seen abroad; and there was a sort of boding calmness in the aspect of the whole place, as they rode on, which taught them to expect important tidings of some kind, from the first friend they should meet. The misty evening sunshine streamed down the far perspective of the streets, casting long and defined shadows from the fountains and the crosses, and also from the houses, that every here and there obtruded their insolent gables beyond the regular line of the other buildings; but no lively groups were seen amusing themselves at the corners, or by the canals; no sober citizens sitting out before their doors, in all the rich and imposing colours of Flemish costume, to enjoy the cool tranquillity of the evening, after the noise, and the bustle, and the heat of an active summer's day. One or two persons, indeed, might be observed with their heads close together, and the important forefinger laid with all the energy of demonstration in the palm of the other hand, while the party gossiped eagerly over some great event, each one fancying himself fit to lead hosts and to govern kingdoms; and every now and then some rapid figure, with consequence in all its steps, was remarked flitting from house to house, the receptacle and carrier of all the rumours of the day.
Though in one of the last named class of personages whom Albert Maurice met as he advanced, he recognised an acquaintance, yet, for many reasons, he only drew the cowl more completely over his face; and, secure in the concealment of the monk's frock that covered him, rode on, till he reached the house of his uncle, Martin Fruse, which he judged to be a more secure asylum than his own, till such time as his resolutions were taken, and his plans arranged.
The dwelling of the worthy burgher, though occupying no inconsiderable part of one of the principal streets, had its private entrance in a narrower one branching to the south-west; and the tall houses on either hand, acting as complete screens between the portal and the setting sun, gave at least an hour's additional darkness to the hue of evening.
So deep, indeed, was the gloom, and so completely did the friar's gown conceal the person of Albert Maurice, that one of his old uncle's servants, who was standing in the entrance, did not in any degree recognise his young master, though it was his frequent boast that he had borne the young citizen--the pink of the youth of Ghent--upon his knee a thousand times when he was no higher than an ell wand. Even the familiar stride with which Albert Maurice entered the long, dark passage, as soon as he had dismounted from his mule, did not undeceive him; and he ran forward into the large sitting room, which lay at the end of the vestibule, announcing that two monks, somewhat of the boldest, had just alighted at the door.
He was followed straight into the apartment of Martin Fruse by that worthy citizen's nephew, who immediately found himself in the midst of half a dozen of the richest burghers of the town, enjoying an hour of social converse with their wealthy neighbour before they retired to their early rest. It would seem to belong more to the antiquary than to the historian to describe the appearance of the chamber, or the dress of the personages who were seated on benches around it; and it may suffice to say, that the furred gowns, and gold chains, which decorated the meeting, sufficiently evinced the municipal dignity of the guests.
At the moment of his nephew's entrance, Martin Fruse was upon his feet, following round a serving boy, who, with a small silver cup, and flask of the same metal, was distributing to each of the burghers a modicum of a liquour, now, alas! too common, but which was then lately invented, and was known, from the many marvellous qualities attributed to it, by the name of eau de vie.
"Take but one small portion," said the worthy citizen to one of his companions, who made some difficulty; "not more than a common spoonful. Do not the best leeches in Europe recommend it as a sovereign cure for all diseases, and a preservation against bad air? It warms the stomach, strengthens the bones, clears the head, and promotes all the functions. And, truly, these are sad and troublous times, wherein cordials are necessary, and every man requires such consolation as he can find. Alack, and a well-a-day! who would have thought----"
But the speech of good Martin Fruse was brought to a sudden conclusion by the entrance of his man, announcing the coming of the two monks; which notice was scarcely given, when Albert Maurice himself appeared. Before entering, the young citizen had paused one moment to cast off the friar's gown, on account of the strange voices he heard as he advanced along the passage, and he now showed himself in his usual travelling dress, though his apparel was somewhat disarranged, and he appeared without cap or bonnet.
"Welcome, welcome, my fair nephew!" cried Martin Fruse, who looked upon Albert with no small pride and deference. "Sirs, here is my nephew Albert, come, at a lucky hour, to give us his good counsel and assistance in the strange and momentous circumstances in which we are placed."
"Welcome, most welcome, good Master Maurice!" cried a number of voices at once. "Welcome, most welcome!" and the young traveller, instantly surrounded by his fellow-citizens, was eagerly congratulated on his return, which had apparently been delayed longer than they had expected or had wished. At the same time, the often repeated words, "Perilous times, extraordinary circumstances, dangers to the state, anxious expectations," and a number of similar expressions, showed him that the opinion he had formed, from the appearance of the town as he passed through the streets, was perfectly correct, and that some events of general and deep importance had taken place.
"I see," he said, in reply, after having answered their first salutations, "I see that something must have occurred with which I am unacquainted. Remember, my good friends, that I have been absent from the city for some weeks; and, for the last four or five days, I have been in places where I was not likely to hear any public tidings."
"What!" cried one, "have you not heard the news? that the duke has been beaten near the lake of Neufchatel, and all the forces with which he was besieging Morat, have been killed or taken?"
"How!" exclaimed another, "have you not heard that the Duke of Lorrain is advancing towards Flanders with all speed?"
"Some say he will be at Ghent in a week," cried a third.
"But the worst news of all," said a fourth, in a solemn and mysterious tone, "is, that a squire, who arrived at the palace last night, saw the duke stricken from his horse by a Swiss giant with a two-handed sword; and, according to all accounts, he never rose again."
"Good God! is it possible?" exclaimed Albert Maurice, as all these baleful tidings poured in at once upon his ear, with a rapidity which afforded him scarcely an opportunity of estimating the truth of each as he received it, and left him no other feeling for the time than pain at the ocean of misfortunes which had overwhelmed his country, though he looked upon the prince, who had immediately suffered, as a brutal despot; and upon the nobles, who in general bore the brunt of battle or defeat, as a number of petty tyrants more insupportable than one great one. "Good God! is it possible?" he exclaimed: "but are you sure, my friends," he continued, after a moment's pause, "that all this news is true? Rumour is apt to exaggerate, and increases evil tidings tenfold, where she only doubles good news? Are these reports quite sure?"
"Oh! they are beyond all doubt," replied one of the merchants, with a slight curl of the lip. "The Lord of Imbercourt, who was on his march to join the army, when he was found by couriers bearing these evil tidings, returned with his spears in all haste to Ghent, in order to guard against any disturbance, as he said, and to keep the rebellious commons under the rule of law."
The man who spoke thus, was a small, dark, insignificant looking person, whose figure would not have attracted a moment's attention, and whose face might have equally passed without notice, had not the keen sparkling light of two clear black eyes, which seemed to wander constantly about in search of other people's thoughts, given at least some warning that there was a subtle, active, and intriguing soul concealed within that diminutive and unprepossessing form. His name was Ganay: by profession he was a druggist, and the chief, in that city, of a trade, which differed considerably from that of the druggist of the present day. It was, indeed, one of no small importance in a great manufacturing town like Ghent, where all the different fabrics required, more or less, some of those ingredients which he imported from foreign countries.
In pronouncing the last words, "to keep the rebellious commons under the rule of law," Master Ganay fixed his keen black eyes upon the face of Albert Maurice with an expression of inquiring eagerness, partly proceeding from an anxious desire to see into the heart of the young citizen, whose character the other fully estimated; partly from a design to lead him, by showing him what was expected from him, to say something which might discover his views and feelings.
He was deceived, however; the very knowledge that his words were to be marked, put the young citizen upon his guard; and, conscious that there were mighty events gathering round, that his own situation was precarious, and that of his country still more so, he felt the necessity of obtaining perfect certainty with regard to the facts, and of indulging deep reflection in regard to the consequences, before he committed himself in the irretrievable manner which is sometimes effected by a single word.
"Ha!" he exclaimed; "ha! did he say so?" and he was about to drop the dangerous part of the subject, by some common observation, when another of the burghers changed the immediate topic of conversation, from the higher and more important themes which had been lately before them, to matters much more familiar to the thoughts of the citizens.
"But there is more intelligence still, good Master Albert Maurice," exclaimed a little fat merchant, whose face expressed all that extravagant desire of wondering, and of exciting wonder, which goes greatly to form the character of a newsmonger; "but there is more intelligence still, which you will be delighted to hear, as a good citizen, and a friend to honest men. That pitiful, prying, bloodthirsty tyrant, Maillotin du Bac, was brought into the town to-day in a litter, beaten so sorely, that they say there is not a piece of his skin so big as a Florence crown which is not both black and blue. Faith, I wonder that the honest men of the wood did not hang him to one of their own trees."
"Ha!" again exclaimed Albert Maurice, but in a tone far more raised with surprise than before, "how did he meet with such a mishap? He boasted that he would not leave a routier, or a free companion in the land."
A low chuckle just behind him, as he pronounced these words, recalled suddenly to his memory, that he had been followed into the room by the monk called Father Barnabas; and, congratulating himself that he had suffered not a syllable to escape his lips that might commit him in any degree, he turned towards the companion of his journey, who, in the haste and confusion with which all these tidings had been poured forth upon him, had been forgotten by himself and overlooked by the others.
A few sentences in explanation of his appearance, and in general reference to great services received from him on the road, instantly called upon Father Barnabas the good-humoured civilities and attention of Martin Fruse, and might have turned the conversation to other matters, had not the monk himself seemed determined to hear more of the drubbing which had been bestowed upon Maillotin du Bac.
"Verily, poor gentleman," he exclaimed, in a tone in which the merriment so far predominated over the commiseration, as to render it much more like the voice of malice than of pity; "verily, poor gentleman, he must be in a sad case. How met he with such a terrible accident?"
"Why, father, you shall hear," replied the newsmonger, eager to disburden his wallet of information upon a new ear; "what I am going to tell you is quite true, I can assure you, for my maid Margaret's sister is going to be married to one of the soldiers of the Prevot's band. It seems that they had searched the forest of Hannut all day in vain, for a body of the green riders who had taken refuge there, and also for a prisoner who had made his escape; and towards night they were making for Hal, because they would not go back to Hannut, as the Prevot had some quarrel with the chatelain, when suddenly, in the little wood, near Braine-la-Leud, they were met by a party of fifty free companions, who drew up right across their way. The captain, who, they say, was the famous Vert Gallant of Hannut himself, singled out the Prevot, and at the very first charge of the two bands brought him to the ground with his lance. Du Bac, however, was not hurt, and at first refused to yield; but the Vert Gallant cudgelled him with the staff of his lance, till there was not a piece of his armour would hold together. He would not kill him, it seems; and when the whole of the band were dispersed, which they were in five minutes, with the exception of five or six who were taken prisoners, the Vert Gallant struck off the Prevot's spurs with his axe, and, telling him that he was a false traitor, and no true knight, sent him back to Ghent, with all the others who had been taken."
While the burgher was detailing these particulars, the small grey roguish eyes of the monk stole from time to time a glance at the face of Albert Maurice with an expression of merriment, triumph, and malice, all mingled intimately together, but subdued into a look of quiet fun, which elicited a smile from the lip of the young citizen, though the tale he had just heard furnished him with matter for more serious reflection. The eyes of the druggist also fixed upon him, while the story of the prevot's discomfiture was told by their companion; and the smile which he saw play upon the face of the young burgher seemed to furnish him with information of what was passing in the mind within, sufficient at least for his own purposes; for from that moment he appeared to pay little farther attention to the subject before them, otherwise than by mingling casually in the conversation that succeeded.
That conversation became soon of a rambling and desultory nature, wandering round the great political events of the day, the fate of their country, the state of the city itself, and the future prospects of the land, without, however, approaching so near to the dangerous matter which was probably in the heart of every one, as to call forth words that could not be retracted. In fact, each person present felt burdened by great but ill-arranged thoughts; and those who saw most deeply into the abyss before them, were the least inclined to venture their opinions ere they heard those of others.
With that sort of intuitive perception which some men have of what is passing in the breasts of those around them, Albert Maurice, without the slightest exertion of cunning or shrewdness, without one effort to draw forth the thoughts of those by whom he was surrounded, comprehended clearly the peculiar modifications under which each one present was revolving in his own mind what advantages might be derived from--what opportunities might be afforded by--the discomfiture and death of Charles the Bold, for recovering those immunities and privileges which that prince had wrung from Ghent, after they had been too often abused by her citizens. His first thought had been of the same nature also: but the mention of Maillotin du Bac had suddenly recalled to his mind his own particular circumstances and situation; and it must be confessed, that, for a few minutes, it was entirely directed to the consideration of how greatly his own personal safety might be ensured by the events, the news of which had reached Ghent during his absence.
The moment after, however, he upbraided himself for his selfishness; and, casting all individual considerations away, he determined to bend the whole energies of his mind to reap, from the circumstances of the times, the greatest possible degree of benefit for his native city. As he pondered over it, the old aspirations of his soul revived. Not only Ghent, he thought, might be benefited, not only Ghent might be freed, but the whole of Flanders might acquire a degree of liberty she had never known. Still, as he reflected, the image thus presented to his mind increased, and, like the cloud of smoke in the eastern fable, which, rolling forth from the mouth of the small vase, gradually condensed into the form of an enormous giant, the thoughts which at first had referred alone to his personal safety enlarged in object, and grew defined in purpose.
The whole continent at that time groaned under the oppression of the feudal system, decayed, corrupted, and abused; and as Albert Maurice mused, he fancied that the freedom of Ghent and Flanders once established, might afford an example to France, to Europe, to the world. The trampled serf, the enchained bondsman, the oppressed citizen, might throw off the weary yoke under which they had laboured for ages; the rights of every human being might become generally recognised over the whole surface of the globe; and broken chains and acclamations of joy, the song of freedom and the shout of triumph, presented themselves in hurried visions to his imagination, while patriotism still represented a liberated world hailing his native land as the champion of the liberty of earth.
Such thoughts rendered him silent and abstracted; and as every one else felt a degree of painful restraint, the various guests of Martin Fruse, after lingering some time, rose to return to their dwellings. Although it was now night, several of them, before they set foot within their own homes, called upon different neighbours in their way, just to tell them, as they said, that Master Albert Maurice had returned to Ghent. None knew why; but yet this information seemed a piece of important news to all. By the sway which great natural genius and energy insensibly acquire over the minds of men, Albert Maurice, without ever attempting to force himself into prominent situations, without effort or exertions of any kind, had taught the whole people of the city of Ghent to look to him for extraordinary actions; and thus each man who heard of his arrival, generally stole forth to tell it to his next door neighbour, who again repeated it to a third. The gossip and the newsmonger gave it forth liberally to others like themselves; so that by a very early hour the next morning the return of Albert Maurice, with a variety of falsehoods and absurdities grafted thereon by the imaginations of the retailers, was generally known, not only to those who were personally acquainted with him, but to a number of others who had never seen him in their lives.
CHAPTER XII.
The appetite for news is like the appetite for every other thing, stimulated by a small portion of food; and the various unsatisfactory reports which had reached Ghent during the day, made her good citizens devour the tidings of Albert Maurice's return with no small greediness.
In the meanwhile, the young merchant communicated to his uncle, immediately after the departure of the guests, that, from various circumstances, of which he would inform him more fully at another time, he judged it not expedient to return to his own house, perhaps, for some days. He prayed him, therefore, to allow him to occupy, for a short space, the apartments which had been appropriated to him during his youth, in the dwelling where he then was; to which request, as his nephew had originally taken up a separate establishment much against his wishes, Martin Fruse consented with no small joy, and proposed that the monk, who still remained, should sleep in the little grey chamber over the warehouse.
"Nay, nay," replied Father Barnabas, when he heard the proposal; "nay, nay, dearly beloved brother Martin, no grey chamber for me; by my faith I must be betaking myself early to-morrow to my own green chamber, and in the meantime, I shall pass the night with a friend of mine in the city, in pious exercises and devout exclamations."
Whether these pious exercises and devout exclamations might not be the rapid circulation of the flagon, and many a jovial bacchanalian song, there may be some reason to doubt. At all events, Albert Maurice had a vague suspicion that it was so; and after pressing the monk to stay, as much as hospitality required, he ceased his opposition to his departure, at the same time putting a purse of twenty golden crowns into his hand.
The monk gazed for a moment upon the little leathern bag, whose weight, as it sunk into his palm, seemed to convey to him a full idea of its value; and then raising his merry grey eyes to the face of his travelling companion, he replied, "This is great nonsense, my son, quite unnecessary, I assure you; and, indeed, I cannot accept it, except upon one condition."
"What is that, my good father?" demanded the young burgher, supposing that the monk was about to affect some notable piece of disinterestedness.
"Merely that you will promise me, my son," replied Father Barnabas, "that in case you should ever hereafter meet with a certain friend of ours, whom some people call the Vert Gallant of Hannut, you will be as silent as the dead about ever having given a leathern purse to poor Father Barnabas, as he may well ask, what is the use of a purse to a holy brother, who vows never to have any money to put into it. Do you understand me, my son?"
"Perfectly, perfectly," replied Albert Maurice, "and promise you with all my heart never to mention it."
"So be it then," rejoined the monk, "and benedicite;--I shall take the horse and the mule out of the stable, and speed upon my way."
As soon as the monk was gone, Albert Maurice explained to his uncle, as briefly as possible, all that had occurred to him during his absence from Ghent; and the distress, agitation, and terror of the worthy burgher, at every stage of his nephew's story, were beyond all description. "Alack, and a well-a-day! my poor boy," he cried;--"alack, and a well-a-day! I thought what all these travellings would come to, sooner or later. Good Lord! good Lord! why should men travel at all! In my young days I never, if I could help it, set my foot three leagues out of Ghent; and the first time I ever was seduced to do so, I was caught by robbers in that cursed wood of Hannut, and was obliged to sleep a whole night upon the cold damp ground."
The young citizen calmed his uncle's agitation as much as possible, and then proceeded to consult with him as to the best means they could adopt, in case that Maillotin du Bac should recover from the drubbing he had received, and pursue, as he doubtless would, the purposes he had previously entertained. In some things, Martin Fruse was not deficient in shrewdness; and he instantly saw the advantages that would be gained by a personal application to the princess, if his nephew were again arrested.
"If," said he, "we still had our old laws, I should say at once, appeal to the eschevins, because, as we used to elect them ourselves, we should have had justice at least, if not favour. But now that the twenty-six, from the Grand Bailli down to the last secretary, are all named by the creatures of the duke, this Maillotin du Bac gets them to warrant everything he does, while the princess, who is kind and generous, will be sure to judge in your favour, especially when she sees the papers that prove you were first arrested for taking part with a woman; and her council, who have nothing to do with the Prevot, will take care not to thwart her who will one day be their mistress."
It was consequently determined, after some farther discussion, to follow the line of conduct suggested by the leader of the adventurers. Such precautions as were necessary to ensure against any of those secret proceedings, which sometimes made clean conveyance with an obnoxious person, before any of his friends were aware, were then concerted between Albert Maurice and his uncle; and the young citizen, pleading fatigue, retired to the apartments which he had occupied as a boy.
There was something in the aspect of the chamber, the quaint old tapestry, with the eyes of many of the figures shot through by the arrows which he used to direct against them, in the wanton sport of childhood, the table notched with the boy's unceasing knife, the well-remembered bed, in which had been dreamed many of the pleasant dreams of early years; there was something in the aspect of the whole that called up the peaceful past, and contrasted itself almost painfully with the present. Setting down the lamp which he bore in his hand, Albert Maurice cast himself on a seat, and gazing round the apartment, while the thousand memories of every well-known object spoke to his heart with the sweet murmuring voice of the days gone; and while all the perils and anxieties of his actual situation, the imminent danger from which he had just escaped, the menacing fate which still hung over his head, and the fierce struggle in which he was likely to be engaged, pressed for present attention, he could not help exclaiming, "Oh, boyhood! happy, happy boyhood! must thou never, never come again!"
The busy and usurping present, however, soon took full possession of his thoughts; and, casting from him all care for the individual danger which threatened himself, he applied his whole mind to consider the probable fate of his country. If the Duke of Burgundy were really dead, he saw, and had long foreseen, that great and extraordinary changes must take place. He knew that there was hardly a town throughout all Flanders, Holland, or Hainault, which was not ready to rise in arms, to recover some privilege wrested from its inhabitants: to break some chain with which they had all been enthralled. He felt, too, and it was a proud consciousness, that he, and he alone throughout the whole land, was capable of wielding that mighty engine, a roused-up multitude, for the great purpose to which it can only be properly applied: the benefit and the happiness of the whole. This consciousness arose from two circumstances: a thorough and intimate acquaintance with the general characters of the leading men in the various towns of Flanders, together with a knowledge that each was individually selfish or weak, full of wild and unfeasible schemes, or absorbed in narrow personal desires; and, in the second place, from the internal perception of immense powers of mind, strengthened and supported by great corporeal vigour and activity.
Such qualities were not, indeed, all that was required to carry mighty schemes to a successful result, especially where they were to be founded on the consent and support of the vain and wilful multitude. But Albert Maurice had on several occasions tried his powers of persuading the crowd, and his ready eloquence had never failed to lead, to convince, to command. Indeed, till the present moment, he had felt almost fearful--surrounded, as he knew himself to be, by watchful and jealous eyes--of the immense popular influence that he was aware he could exert. But now, as he paused and considered the probable events about to take place, he felt a triumphant security in his own talents, and prepared to step forward, and secure a freer form of government, for Ghent at least, if the reins had really fallen from the hand that lately held them. His first thoughts, indeed, were all turned towards the benefit of his native country, to the immense advantages that might be obtained for her, and to that mighty thing, liberty, which was scarcely then known to the world. But it was not in human nature, that some breathing of personal ambition should not mingle with his nobler aspirations; and for a moment he dreamt of power, and rule, and sovereign sway, and of nobles trampled beneath his feet, and of kings bending to court his alliance. The shade of Van Artevelde seemed to rise from the deep past and beckon him on upon the road to greatness.
It was but for a moment, however; and when suddenly the better spirit woke him from his dream, and showed him whither he was wandering, he hid his face in his hands, with a mixed feeling of shame for having suffered himself to be betrayed into such thoughts, and an apprehension lest, in some after-part of his career, when the golden temptation was within his grasp, he should yield to the spirit that even thus early had assailed him, and be in act what he had already been in thought. The very idea of becoming so made him pause in his resolves, uncertain whether to take any part, lest he should ultimately take an evil one; and for a moment Albert Maurice, who feared no mortal man, hesitated in fear of himself.
Reflection, however, soon removed his doubts: he knew his intentions to be pure: and, calling before his mind the brightest examples of past ages, he determined to hold them up to himself as models to imitate, and to sacrifice everything to virtue. Even the very doubts that he had entertained of himself made him choose his examples from the sternest school of patriotism. He felt, perhaps, that any modern efforts must fall below the standard of that antique firmness, which, nurtured by the long habit of freedom, was with the Romans of the republic a passion as much as a principle; and, fixing his eyes upon the earlier Brutus, he resolved that if ever in after-life the temptation to wrong his country should assail him, he would use that talismanic memory to charm the evil demon away for ever.
While he thus paused and thought, the night wore on; all sounds died away in the streets of Ghent: the footsteps in his uncle's house ceased; and, after the midnight watch had gone by in its round, not a sound for some time disturbed the silence of the place. At length, about one o'clock in the morning, he heard a step ascending the stairs which led to his apartment, and the moment after a tap upon the door announced that some one demanded admittance. He instantly rose, threw back the tapestry, and opened the door, when, to his surprise, he beheld the small keen features and sharp black eyes of the druggist Ganay, beside the face of one of his uncle's servants.
The sight, indeed, accorded very well with his thoughts and wishes; for though the person who thus visited him was, in character and mind, as distinct--perhaps, I should say, as opposite, to himself as possible, yet he was one of those men who, in moments of general excitement, are often serviceable in the highest degree, and must be used for good, lest they should employ their talents for evil.
The little druggist had, in all his motions, a silent rapidity, a quick, sharp, but stealthy sort of activity, which, to those close observers of the human race, who pretend to read in the habitual movements and peculiar customs of the body the character of the mind within, might have spoken of dark and cunning designs, prompted by strong but carefully hidden passions, with little scruple as to the means of accomplishing schemes once undertaken. Before Albert Maurice was well aware of his presence, he was in the room beside him; and in a few brief words, spoken in a low but remarkably distinct voice, he informed the young citizen that when he went away about two hours before, he had requested the servant to wait and let him in, after the rest of the family had gone to rest. Then, adding that he had business of much importance to speak upon, he at once explained and apologised for his intrusion.
Albert Maurice took his excuses in good part; and, bidding the servant retire to rest, he closed the door and seated himself with his visitor, well aware that he had to encounter a mind as keen and penetrating, though far less powerful, than his own, on subjects difficult and dangerous to discuss.
"Master Albert Maurice," said Ganay, when they were alone, and the retreating step of the servant had announced to his cautious ear that his words were not likely to be overheard, "it were in vain for you or I to attempt to conceal from each other, or from ourselves, that the moment is come when extraordinary changes must take place in our native land, or opportunities be lost which may never return. To you, then, I come," he added, speaking with a serious earnestness, which was intended to give the appearance of sincere conviction to the flattery he was about to administer--flattery which, as he knew it to be based in truth, he calculated upon being readily received, and producing a particular purpose of his own--"to you, then, I come, Master Albert Maurice, as to the man calculated, by nature and by circumstances, to take the most prominent part in the actions in which we are about to be engaged--to whom the eyes of all the citizens are naturally turned, and on whom the welfare of our country must, in a great measure, depend. My object is, in no degree, to pry into your confidence, to obtrude advice upon you, or to hurry you forward faster than you may think it necessary to proceed, but simply for the purpose of offering you any assistance in my small power to give, and of pointing out to you the necessity of thought and consultation in regard to the measures to be pursued."
The young citizen paused for a moment or two in meditation ere he replied. "My good friend," he answered, at length, "much consideration is, indeed, as you say, necessary. In the first place, we are by no means certain that our noble lord the duke is dead. If he be living, it will be our duty, as good subjects and good citizens, to give him all the aid in our power to repel his enemies and to recover his losses."
The druggist bit his lip, and Albert Maurice continued:--"If, indeed, he unhappily have fallen in this rash attempt against the Swiss, say what would you have us do?"
"Nay, nay, speak you," replied the druggist; "for well do we all feel that it is you must lead, and we must follow."
"I see but one thing that can be done," replied the young citizen--"humbly to tender our allegiance and our services to the heiress of the Burgundian coronet, and to petition her to confirm to us our liberties and privileges."
He spoke slowly and calmly, in a tone of voice from which nothing could be gathered in addition to the words he uttered; and in vain did the small dark eyes of his fellow-citizen scan his countenance to discover something more. His face remained completely unmoved, if it was not by a scarcely perceptible smile at the evident anxiety and agitation with which his calmness and indifference affected his companion.
"Good Heaven!" cried the druggist, starting up in the first impatience of disappointed expectation, "Good Heaven! little did I expect to hear such words from your lips! But no!" he added, after a moment's pause of deep thought, during which he rapidly combined every remembered trait in the character of Albert Maurice, with his present affected calmness, and deduced from it a true conclusion in regard to his real motives. "But no! Young man, I have marked you from your childhood. I know you as well as my own son, nay, better--for his light follies have made him an alien to my house, though not to my heart. I have seen your character develop itself. I have seen the wild spirit and petulance of boyhood become, when brought under the sway of maturer reason, that overwhelming enthusiasm, which, like a mighty river, is calm only because it is deep and powerful. Albert Maurice, you cannot deceive me; and let me tell you, that even were the course, which but now you proposed to pursue, that to which your feelings and your reason really led you, the people of this country would leave you to truckle to power alone; and though--wanting one great directing mind to curb their passions, and point their endeavours to a just conclusion--they might cast one half of Europe into anarchy, and rush upon their own destruction, most assuredly they would do so, rather than submit again to a new despot, or place their lives and their happiness in the power of one who owns no law, no justice but his own will."
"Think you they would do so, indeed?" demanded the young citizen, well aware of the fact, but somewhat doubtful still of the entire purity of his companion's motives. "Then, my good friend, we must, as you say, for the safety and security of all, find some one who may lead them to better things; but to succeed we must be cautious; we must trust no man before we try him; and we must first make sure of those who lead, before we rouse up those who are to be led. Ere one step is taken, too, we must ensure the ground that we stand upon, and know what has been the real event of this great battle. Nay, nay, protest not that it is as we have heard, Rumour, the universal liar, sometimes will give us portions of the truth, beyond all doubt; but never yet, believe me, did she tell a tale that was not more than one-half falsehood. But even granting that the chief point be true, at the very threshold of our enterprise, we must learn each particular shade of thought and of opinion, possessed by our great and leading citizens. Nor must Ghent stand alone; each other city throughout all Flanders must be prepared to acknowledge and support the deeds of Ghent."
"You seem to have considered the matter deeply," said the druggist, with a smile; "but I fear such long preparations, and the time necessary to excite the public mind----"
"Fear not," interrupted Albert Maurice, "fear not. You little know the commons, if you suppose that time is necessary to call them into action. A few shrewd words, false or true, it matters not, will set the whole country in a flame as fast as news can fly. Give me but just cause, a good occasion, and an opportunity of speech, and in one half hour all Ghent shall be in arms."
"It may be so," replied the druggist, thoughtfully; "I doubt it not; indeed I know it is so. But, methinks, my dear young friend, that while we are proceeding with such slow circumspection, our enemies may take their measures of precaution also; and as they have the present power, may use and extend it to such good effect that all our efforts will be fruitless. Already the Lord of Imbercourt has returned with a hundred and fifty lances; the number of nobles in the town, with their retainers, will furnish near five hundred more."
"Again, fear not," replied Albert Maurice; "the popular mind is as a magazine of that black hellish compound, which gives roar and lightning to the cannon; one single spark, applied by a fearless hand, will make it all explode at once. The nobles stand upon a mine; and there are those in Ghent who will not fear to spring it beneath their feet should there be need, which Heaven avert. One thing, however, must be done, and that with speed. As a united body, these feudal tyrants are powerful--too much so, indeed--but amongst them there must be surely more than sufficient stores of vanity, wrath, hatred, revenge, and all those other manifold weaknesses, which, skilfully employed, may detach some of their members from their own body, and spread division amongst them. Is there no one could be won?"
"None that I know of," replied the druggist, "except, indeed, it were my very good lord and kind patron"--he spoke with a sneer--"Thibalt of Neufchatel, who now affects mighty popularity, bows his grey head to the people as low as to his saddle-now, calls them the good commons, the worthy citizens of Ghent; and, no longer gone than yesterday, made me, Walter Ganay, the poor burgher druggist, sit down at his lordly table, and drink of his spiced wine. But I fear me, my dear young friend, though the worthy lord may affect wonderful popularity, and others of his rank might be brought to do the same, they would never stand by us in the moment of need, the interest of their class would soon resume its place in their thoughts, and they would quit the citizens whenever the citizens wanted their help."
"That matters little," replied Albert Maurice, laying his hand upon the arm of his companion. "The aid that we might derive from the swords of half-a-dozen nobles were but dust in the balance; but the advantages that we may derive from their seeming to be with us in the outset, are great and incalculable. That which has overthrown the finest armies that were ever yet brought into the field--that which has scattered to the wind the noblest associations that ever were framed for the benefit of mankind--that which has destroyed leagues, and broken alliances, crushed republics under the feet of despots, and blasted the best formed and brightest designs of human beings--doubt, suspicion of each other; that, that great marrer of all men's combinations, must be listed on our side against our oppressors. We must teach them to fear and to suspect each other; and the bonds that hold them together will be broken, and may remain severed till it is too late to unite them again. This Thibalt of Neufchatel," he added, hastily, "I have heard of him, and seen him often. When I was a mere boy, I remember riding under his escort from the forest of Hannut, and as haughty a lord he was as e'er I met with; but now, it would seem, he has changed his tone, and is the popular, the pleasant noble, the friend of the commons; he is somewhat in his dotage too, just at that point where weakness affects great wisdom. He must be won, by all means, if it be but for a day. Is there no way, think you, by which he may be brought to show himself amongst us at some popular meeting? A thousand to one the very fact of his having done so, and the scorn that it will call upon him from his fellow-nobles, by committing his vanity on our side, will bind him to us for ever; and he will calmly look upon the fall of his order, if it were but for the purpose of saying to each ruined baron, 'If you had done as I have, you would have been safe.'--At all events," he added, "his presence with us would sow the first feed of disunion among the proud nobility: can no means be found?
"Oh, many, many, doubtless," replied the druggist; "but great reverence and respect must be shown to him, and all ultimate views must be concealed."
"Of course," answered Albert Maurice, "of course," and resting his brow upon his hands, he remained in thought for several minutes. "Mark me, good Master Ganay," he said, at length--"mark me, and remember that you have sought me in this business, not I you. Think not, therefore, that in giving you directions what to do, I wish to arrogate to myself any superior power, or wisdom, or knowledge. Deeply and fervently do I wish to serve my country. As far as I see my way clearly, and as far as my countrymen choose to trust me, willingly will I take a lead in their affairs. The moment my own view or their confidence fails, I will draw back and leave the staff in better hands. Let your first step, then be--at an early hour to-morrow--to prompt as many of the principal citizens as you can meet with, to assemble in the town-hall upon various pretences. Speak to one about changes in the price of grain, and send him thither to hear more. Tell another that the English wools have failed, and let him come for news from across the seas. Bid a third to the town-hall for tidings from France; and a fourth for the news from Switzerland. I, too, will be there; and if you can so arrange it as to bring Thibalt of Neufchatel to the same place by half-past ten of the clock, I will have all prepared to fix him ours, if possible."
"I will undertake it," replied the druggist. "Albert Maurice, we understand each other, though little has been said, and perhaps wisely; yet we understand each other, and shall do so, without farther explanations; I give you good night."
"Farewell," said Albert Maurice, as the other rose to depart; "but remember, above all things, no word to any one of this night's meeting; for, if we would work well together for the benefit of all, we must not be seen together too much. Again, farewell."
Thus saying, he raised the light, and, after guiding his visitor through some of the long and tortuous passages of his uncle's dwelling, he saw him depart, and closed the door for the night.
CHAPTER XIII.
Once more within the solitude of his own chamber, Albert Maurice cast himself into a seat, and a degree of emotion not to be mastered, passed over him, as he felt that he had taken the first step in a career which must speedily bring power, and honour, and immortal glory--or the grave. As I have before said, in all the mutinous movements of the citizens of Ghent, he had recoiled from any participation in their struggles, both with a degree of contempt for such petty broils as they usually were, and with an involuntary feeling of awe, as if he knew that whenever he did take a part in the strife, it was destined to become more deadly and more general than it had ever been before. There was nothing, indeed, of personal apprehension in his sensations. They consisted alone of a deep, overpowering feeling of the mighty, tremendous importance of the events likely to ensue, of the awful responsibility incurred, of the fearful account to be given by him, who takes upon himself the dangerous task of stirring up a nation, and attempts to rouse and rule the whirlwind passions of a fierce and excited people.
He had now, however, made the first step; and he felt that that first step was irretrievable, that his bark was launched upon the stormy ocean of political intrigue, that he had left the calm shore of private station never to behold it again; and that nothing remained for him but to sail out the voyage he had undertaken amidst all the tempests and the hurricanes that might attend his course. It could scarcely be called a weakness to yield one short unseen moment to emotion under such feelings, to look back with lingering regret upon the calm days behind; and to strive with anxious thought to snatch some part of the mighty secrets of the future from beyond the dark, mysterious veil which God, in his great mercy, has cast over the gloomy sanctuary of fate. It was but for a moment that he thus yielded; and then, with a power which some men of vast minds possess, he cast from him the load of thought, prepared, when the moment of action came, to act decisively; and feeling that his corporeal frame required repose, he stretched himself upon his bed, and slept without a dream--a sleep as deep, as still, as calm, as we may suppose to have visited the tent of Cæsar, when, conscious of coming empire, he had passed the Rubicon.
It lasted not long, however; and the first rays of the morning sun, as they found their way through the narrow lattice of his chamber, woke him with energies refreshed, and with a mind prepared for whatever fortunes the day might bring.
A few hours passed in writing, and a short explanation with his uncle in regard to the exigencies of the approaching moment, consumed the time between the young burgher's rising and the hour appointed for the meeting in the town-hall; and, accompanied by worthy Martin Fruse, whom he well knew that he could rule as he pleased, Albert Maurice proceeded into the streets of Ghent.
In deference to his uncle's dislike to the elevation of a horse's back, the young citizen took his way on foot, followed, as well as preceded, by two serving men, to which the station of Martin Fruse, as syndic of the cloth-workers, gave him a right, without the imputation of ostentation. It was not, indeed, the custom of either of the two citizens to show themselves in the streets of their own town thus accompanied, except upon occasions of municipal state; but, in the present instance, both were aware that, if the news of the preceding day were true, sudden aid from persons on whom they could rely, either as combatants or messengers, might be required.
It was a market-day in the city of Ghent; and as they walked on, many a peasant, laden with rural merchandise, was passed by them in the streets, and many a group of gossiping men and women, blocking up the passage of the narrow ways, was disturbed by the important zeal of the serving men making way for the two high citizens whom they preceded. The streets, indeed, were all flutter and gaiety; but the marketplace itself offered a still more lively scene, being filled to overflowing with the population of the town and the neighbouring districts, in all the gay and glittering colours of their holiday costume.
Although the market had already begun, the principal traffic which seemed to be going on was that in news; and the buzz of many voices, all speaking together, announced how many were eager to tell as well as to hear. No sooner had the two citizens entered that flat, open square, which every one knows as the chief marketplace of old Ghent, than the tall, graceful figure of the younger burgher caught the eyes of the people around; and in answer to a question from some one near, an artisan, who had come thither either to buy or sell, replied aloud--"It is Master Albert Maurice, the great merchant, just returned, they say, from Namur."
The words were immediately taken up by another near; and the announcement of the popular citizen's presence ran like lightning through the crowd. A whispering hum, and a movement of all the people, as he advanced, some to make way, and some to catch a sight of him, was all that took place at first. But soon his name was given out louder and more loud as it passed from mouth to mouth; and at length some one in the middle of the market-place threw up his cap into the air, and in a moment the whole buildings round echoed with "Long live Albert Maurice, the good friend of the people of Ghent!"
Doffing his bonnet, the young citizen advanced upon his way towards the town-hall, bowing on every side to the populace, with that bland yet somewhat stately smile upon his fine arching lip, which wins much love without losing a tittle of respect; and still the people as he went cheered him with many voices, while every now and then some individuals from amongst them would salute him in various modes, according to their rank and situation.
"Give thee good day, Master Albert Maurice!" cried one who claimed some acquaintance with him. "God bless thee for a noble citizen!" exclaimed another. "Long life to Albert Maurice!" shouted a third. "What news from Namur?" demanded a fourth. "Speak to us, noble sir!" again exclaimed another: "speak to us! speak to us! as you one day did on the bridge!"
Such cries were multiplying, and popular excitement, which is very easily changed into popular tumult, was proceeding to a higher point than Albert Maurice wished, especially as amongst the crowd he observed several soldiers. These, though a word would have rendered them the objects of the people's fury, were, he thought, very likely to become the reporters of the public feeling to the government, before the preparations which he contemplated were mature; and he was accordingly hurrying his pace to avoid disturbance, when suddenly the sound of trumpets from the opposite side of the square diverted the attention of all parties.
The young citizen turned his eyes thitherward with the rest, and made his way forward in that direction, as soon as he perceived a dense but small body of armed horsemen debouching from the street that led from the palace, with clarions sounding before them and raised lances, as if their errand were as peaceful as their garb was warlike.
Apprehensive that something might occur which would require that rapid decision and presence of mind which rule, in many cases, even the great ruler--Circumstance, he hurried on, while the people made way for him to pass; probably from a tacit conviction that he alone, of all the assemblage, was qualified to deal with important events. As he approached, the body of horsemen reached the little fountain in the middle of the marketplace, and he caught the flutter of female habiliments in the midst of the guard.
At that moment the squadron opened, and, clearing a small space around, displayed a brilliant group in the centre, on which all eyes were instantly turned. A number of the personages of which it was composed were well known, at least by sight, to the young burgher; and, from their presence, he easily divined the names and characters of the rest. Mounted on a splendid black charger, there appeared, amongst others, the Lord of Ravestein, first cousin of the Duke of Burgundy, together with the Duke of Cleves and the Lord of Imbercourt. The faces of these noblemen, as well as that of Margaret of York, Duchess of Burgundy, Albert Maurice knew full well; but in the midst of all was a countenance he had never beheld before. It was that of a fair, beautiful girl, of about twenty years of age, whose sweet hazel eyes, filled with mild and pensive light, and curtained by long dark lashes, expressed--if ever eyes were the mind's heralds--a heart, a soul, subdued by its own powers, full of deep feelings, calmed, but not lessened, by its own command over itself. All the other features were in harmony with those eyes, beautiful in themselves, but still more beautiful by the expression which they combined to produce; and the form, also, to which they belonged, instinct with grace and beauty, seemed framed by nature in her happiest mood to correspond with that fair face.
Albert Maurice needed not to be told that there was Mary of Burgundy. He gazed on her without surprise; for he had ever heard that she was most beautiful; but, as he gazed, by an instinctive reverence for the loveliness he saw, he took his bonnet from his head; and, all the crowd following his example, stood bareheaded before her, while a short proclamation was read twice by a herald.