Lysbeth: Chapter 3

Chapter 3

MONTALVO WINS A TRICK

Turning up the Bree Straat, then as now perhaps the finest in the town
of Leyden, Montalvo halted his horse before a substantial house fronted
with three round-headed gables, of which the largest--that over the
entrance in the middle--was shaped into two windows with balconies. This
was Lysbeth's house which had been left to her by her father, where,
until such time as she should please to marry, she dwelt with her aunt,
Clara van Ziel. The soldier whom he had summoned having run to the
horse's head, Montalvo leapt from his driver's seat to assist the lady
to alight. At the moment Lysbeth was occupied with wild ideas of swift
escape, but even if she could make up her mind to try it there was an
obstacle which her thoughtful cavalier had foreseen.

"Jufvrouw van Hout," he said as he pulled up, "do you remember that you
are still wearing skates?"

It was true, though in her agitation she had forgotten all about them,
and the fact put sudden flight out of the question. She could not
struggle into her own house walking on the sides of her feet like the
tame seal which old fisherman Hans had brought from northern seas. It
would be too ridiculous, and the servants would certainly tell the story
all about the town. Better for a while longer to put up with the company
of this odious Spaniard than to become a laughing stock in an attempt to
fly. Besides, even if she found herself on the other side of it, could
she shut the door in his face? Would her promise let her, and would he
consent?

"Yes," she answered briefly, "I will call my servant."

Then for the first time the Count became complimentary in a dignified
Spanish manner.

"Let no base-born menial hold the foot which it is an honour for an
hidalgo of Spain to touch. I am your servant," he said, and resting one
knee on the snow-covered step he waited.

Again there was nothing to be done, so Lysbeth must needs thrust out her
foot from which very delicately and carefully he unstrapped the skate.

"What Jack can bear Jill must put up with," muttered Lysbeth to herself
as she advanced the other foot. Just at that moment, however, the door
behind them began to open.

"She who buys," murmured Montalvo as he commenced on the second set of
straps. Then the door swung wide, and the voice of Dirk van Goorl was
heard saying in a tone of relief:

"Yes, sure enough it is she, Tante Clara, and some one is taking off her
boots."

"Skates, Senor, skates," interrupted Montalvo, glancing backward over
his shoulder, then added in a whisper as he bent once more to his task,
"ahem--_pays_. You will introduce me, is it not so? I think it will be
less awkward for you."

So, as flight was impossible, for he held her by the foot, and an
instinct told her that, especially to the man she loved, the only thing
to do was to make light of the affair, Lysbeth said--

"Dirk, Cousin Dirk, I think you know--this is--the Honourable Captain
the Count Juan de Montalvo."

"Ah! it is the Senor van Goorl," said Montalvo, pulling off the skate
and rising from his knee, which, from his excess of courtesy, was now
wet through. "Senor, allow me to return to you, safe and sound, the fair
lady of whom I have robbed you for a while."

"For a while, captain," blurted Dirk; "why, from first to last, she
has been gone nearly four hours, and a fine state we have been in about
her."

"That will all be explained presently, Senor--at supper, to which the
Jufvrouw has been so courteous as to ask me," then, aside and below his
breath, again the ominous word of reminder--"_pays_." "Most happily,
your cousin's presence was the means of saving a fellow-creature's life.
But, as I have said, the tale is long. Senor--permit," and in another
second Lysbeth found herself walking down her own hall upon the arm of
the Spaniard, while Dirk, her aunt, and some guests followed obediently
behind.

Now Montalvo knew that his difficulties were over for that evening at
any rate, since he had crossed the threshold and was a guest.

Half unconsciously Lysbeth guided him to the balconied _sit-kamer_ on
the first floor, which in our day would answer to the drawing-room. Here
several other of her friends were gathered, for it had been arranged
that the ice-festival should end with a supper as rich as the house
could give. To these, too, she must introduce her cavalier, who bowed
courteously to each in turn. Then she escaped, but, as she passed him,
distinctly, she could swear, did she see his lips shape themselves to
the hateful word--"_pays_."

When she reached her chamber, so great was Lysbeth's wrath and
indignation that almost she choked with it, till again reason came to
her aid, and with reason a desire to carry the thing off as well as
might be. So she told her maid Greta to robe her in her best garment,
and to hang about her neck the famous collar of pearls which her father
had brought from the East, that was the talk and envy of half the women
in Leyden. On her head, too, she placed the cap of lovely lace which had
been a wedding gift to her mother by her grandmother, the old dame who
wove it. Then she added such golden ornaments as it was customary for
women of her class of wear, and descended to the gathering room.

Meanwhile Montalvo had not been idle. Taking Dirk aside, and pleading
his travel-worn condition, he had prayed him to lead him to some room
where he might order his dress and person. Dirk complied, though with
an ill grace, but so pleasant did Montalvo make himself during those few
minutes, that before he ushered him back to the company in some way Dirk
found himself convinced that this particular Spaniard was not, as the
saying went, "as black as his mustachios." He felt almost sure too,
although he had not yet found time to tell him the details of it, that
there was some excellent reason to account for his having carried off
the adorable Lysbeth during an entire afternoon and evening.

It is true that there still remained the strange circumstance of the
attempted foul of his cousin Van de Werff's sledge in the great race,
but, after all, why should there not be some explanation of this also?
It had happened, if it did happen, at quite a distance from the winning
post, when there were few people to see what passed. Indeed, now that
he came to think of it, the only real evidence on the matter was that
of his cousin, the little girl passenger, since Van de Werff himself had
brought no actual accusation against his opponent.

Shortly after they returned to the company it was announced that supper
had been served, whereon ensued a pause. It was broken by Montalvo, who,
stepping forward, offered his hand to Lysbeth, saying in a voice that
all could hear:

"Lady, my companion of the race, permit the humblest representative of
the greatest monarch in the world to have an honour which doubtless that
monarch would be glad to claim."

That settled the matter, for as the acting commandant of the Spanish
garrison of Leyden had chosen to refer to his official position, it was
impossible to question his right of precedence over a number of folk,
who, although prominent in their way, were but unennobled Netherlander
burghers.

Lysbeth, indeed, did find courage to point to a rather flurried and
spasmodic lady with grey hair who was fanning herself as though the
season were July, and wondering whether the cook would come up to the
grand Spaniard's expectations, and to murmur "My aunt." But she got no
further, for the Count instantly added in a low voice--

"Doubtless comes next in the direct line, but unless my education has
been neglected, the heiress of the house who is of age goes before the
collateral--however aged."

By this time they were through the door, so it was useless to argue the
point further, and again Lysbeth felt herself overmatched and submitted.
In another minute they had passed down the stairs, entered the dining
hall, and were seated side by side at the head of the long table, of
which the foot was occupied presently by Dirk van Goorl and her aunt,
who was also his cousin, the widow Clara van Ziel.

There was a silence while the domestics began their service, of which
Montalvo took opportunity to study the room, the table and the guests.
It was a fine room panelled with German oak, and lighted sufficiently,
if not brilliantly, by two hanging brass chandeliers of the famous
Flemish workmanship, in each of which were fixed eighteen of the best
candles, while on the sideboards were branch candlesticks, also of
worked brass. The light thus provided was supplemented by that from
the great fire of peat and old ships' timber which burned in a
wide blue-tiled fire-place, half way down the chamber, throwing its
reflections upon many a flagon and bowl of cunningly hammered silver
that adorned the table and the sideboards.

The company was of the same character as the furniture, handsome and
solid; people of means, every man and woman of them, accumulated
by themselves or their fathers, in the exercise of the honest and
profitable trade whereof at this time the Netherlands had a practical
monopoly.

"I have made no mistake," thought Montalvo to himself, as he surveyed
the room and its occupants. "My little neighbour's necklace alone is
worth more cash than ever I had the handling of, and the plate would add
up handsomely. Well, before very long I hope to be in a position to make
its inventory." Then, having first crossed himself devoutly, he fell to
upon a supper that was well worth his attention, even in a land noted
for the luxury of its food and wines and the superb appetites of those
who consumed them.

It must not be supposed, however, that the gallant captain allowed
eating to strangle conversation. On the contrary, finding that his
hostess was in no talkative mood, he addressed himself to his fellow
guests, chatting with them pleasantly upon every convenient subject.
Among these guests was none other than Pieter van de Werff, his
conqueror in that afternoon's conquest, upon whose watchful and
suspicious reserve he brought all his batteries to bear.

First he congratulated Pieter and lamented his own ill-luck, and this
with great earnestness, for as a matter of fact he had lost much more
money on the event than he could afford to pay. Then he praised the
grey horse and asked if he was for sale, offering his own black in part
exchange.

"A good nag," he said, "but one that I do not wish to conceal has his
faults, which must be taken into consideration if it comes to the point
of putting a price upon him. For instance, Mynheer van de Werff, you may
have noticed the dreadful position in which the brute put me towards the
end of the race. There are certain things that this horse always shies
at, and one of them is a red cloak. Now I don't know if you saw that
a girl in a red cloak suddenly appeared on the bank. In an instant the
beast was round and you may imagine what my feelings were, being in
charge of your fair kinswoman, for I thought to a certainty that we
should be over. What is more, it quite spoilt my chance of the race,
for after he has shied like that, the black turns sulky, and won't let
himself go."

When Lysbeth heard this amazing explanation, remembering the facts, she
gasped. And yet now that she came to think of it, a girl in a red cloak
did appear near them at the moment, and the horse _did_ whip round as
though it had shied violently. Was it possible, she wondered, that the
captain had not really intended to foul the Badger sledge?

Meanwhile Van de Werff was answering in his slow voice. Apparently he
accepted Montalvo's explanation; at least he said that he, too, saw
the red-cloaked girl, and was glad that nothing serious had come of the
mischance. As regarded the proposed deal, he should be most happy to
go into it upon the lines mentioned, as the grey, although a very good
horse, was aged, and he thought the barb one of the most beautiful
animals that he had ever seen. At this point, as he had not the
slightest intention of parting with his valuable charger, at any rate on
such terms, Montalvo changed the subject.

At length, when men, and, for the matter of that, women, too, had well
eaten, and the beautiful tall Flemish glasses not for the first time
were replenished with the best Rhenish or Spanish wines, Montalvo,
taking advantage of a pause in the conversation, rose and said that he
wished to claim the privilege of a stranger among them and propose a
toast, namely, the health of his late adversary, Pieter van de Werff.

At this the audience applauded, for they were all very proud of the
young man's success, and some of them had won money over him. Still
more did they applaud, being great judges of culinary matters, when
the Spaniard began his speech by an elegant tribute to the surpassing
excellence of the supper. Rarely, he assured them, and especially did he
assure the honourable widow Van Ziel (who blushed all over with pleasure
at his compliments, and fanned herself with such vigour that she upset
Dirk's wine over his new tunic, cut in the Brussels style), the fame of
whose skill in such matters had travelled so far as The Hague, for he
had heard of it there himself--rarely even in the Courts of Kings and
Emperors, or at the tables of Popes and Archbishops, had he eaten food
so exquisitely cooked, or drunk wines of a better vintage.

Then, passing on to the subject of his speech, Van de Werff, he toasted
him and his horse and his little sister and his sledge, in really
well-chosen and appropriate terms, not by any means overdoing it, for
he confessed frankly that his defeat was a bitter disappointment to him,
especially as every solder in the camp had expected him to win
and--he was afraid--backed him for more than they could afford. Also,
incidentally, so that every one might be well acquainted with it, he
retold the story of the girl with the red cloak. Next, suddenly dropping
his voice and adopting a quieter manner, he addressed himself to the
Aunt Clara and the "well-beloved Heer Dirk," saying that he owed them
both an apology, which he must take this opportunity to make, for
having detained the lady at his right during so unreasonable a time that
afternoon. When, however, they had heard the facts they would, he was
sure, blame him no longer, especially if he told them that this breach
of good manners had been the means of saving a human life.

Immediately after the race, he explained, one of his sergeants had found
him out to tell him that a woman, suspected of certain crimes against
life and property and believed to be a notorious escaped witch or
heretic, had been captured, asking for reasons which he need not trouble
them with, that he would deal with the case at once. This woman also,
so said the man, had been heard that every afternoon to make use of the
most horrible, the most traitorous and blaspheming language to a lady
of Leyden, the Jufvrouw Lysbeth van Hout, indeed; as was deposed by a
certain spy named Black Meg, who had overheard the conversation.

Now, went on Montalvo, as he knew well, every man and woman in that room
would share his horror of traitorous and blasphemous heretics--here most
of the company crossed themselves, especially those who were already
secret adherents of the New Religion. Still, even heretics had a right
to a fair trial; at least he, who although a soldier by profession, was
a man who honestly detested unnecessary bloodshed, held that opinion.
Also long experience taught him great mistrust of the evidence of
informers, who had a money interest in the conviction of the accused.
Lastly, it did not seem well to him that the name of a young and noble
lady should be mixed up in such a business. As they knew under the
recent edicts, his powers in these cases were absolute; indeed, in his
official capacity he was ordered at once to consign any suspected of
Anabaptism or other forms of heresy to be dealt with by the appointed
courts, and in the case of people who had escaped, to cause them, on
satisfactory proof of their identity, to be executed instantly without
further trial. Under these circumstances, fearing that did the lady knew
his purpose she might take fright, he had, he confessed, resorted to
artifice, as he was very anxious both for her sake and in the interest
of justice that she should bear testimony in the matter. So he asked
her to accompany him on a short drive while he attended to a business
affair; a request to which she had graciously assented.

"Friends," he went on in a still more solemn voice, "the rest of my
story is short. Indeed I do congratulate myself on the decision that
I took, for when confronted with the prisoner our young and honourable
hostess was able upon oath to refute the story of the spy with the
result that I in my turn was to save an unfortunate, and, as I believe,
a half-crazed creature from an immediate and a cruel death. Is it not
so, lady?" and helpless in the net of circumstance, not knowing indeed
what else to do, Lysbeth bowed her head in assent.

"I think," concluded Montalvo, "that after this explanation, what may
have appeared to be a breach of manners will be forgiven. I have only
one other word to add. My position is peculiar; I am an official here,
and I speak boldly among friends taking the risk that any of you present
will use what I say against me, which for my part I do not believe.
Although there is no better Catholic and no truer Spaniard in the
Netherlands, I have been accused of showing too great a sympathy with
your people, and of dealing too leniently with those who have incurred
the displeasure of our Holy Church. In the cause of right and justice I
am willing to bear such aspersions; still this is a slanderous world, a
world in which truth does not always prevail. Therefore, although I have
told you nothing but the bare facts, I do suggest in the interests of
your hostess--in my own humble interest who might be misrepresented, and
I may add in the interest of every one present at this board--that it
will perhaps be well that the details of the story which I have had the
honour of telling you should not be spread about--that they should in
fact find a grave within these walls? Friends, do you agree?"

Then moved by a common impulse, and by a common if a secret fear, with
the single exception of Lysbeth, every person present, yes, even the
cautious and far-seeing young Van de Werff, echoed "We agree."

"Friends," said Montalvo, "those simple words carry to my mind
conviction deep as any vow however solemn; deep, if that were possible,
as did the oath of your hostess, upon the faith of which I felt myself
justified in acquitting the poor creature who was alleged to be an
escaped heretic." Then with a courteous and all-embracing bow Montalvo
sat down.

"What a good man! What a delightful man!" murmured Aunt Clara to Dirk in
the buzz of conversation which ensued.

"Yes, yes, cousin, but----"

"And what discrimination he has, what taste! Did you notice what he said
about the cooking?"

"I heard something, but----"

"It is true that folk have told me that my capon stewed in milk, such
as we had to-night--Why, lad, what is the matter with your doublet? You
fidget me by continually rubbing at it."

"You have upset the red wine over it, that is all," answered Dirk,
sulkily. "It is spoiled."

"And little loss either; to tell you the truth, Dirk, I never saw a coat
worse cut. You young men should learn in the matter of clothes from
the Spanish gentlemen. Look at his Excellency, the Count Montalvo, for
instance----"

"See here, aunt," broke in Dirk with suppressed fury, "I think I have
heard enough about Spaniards and the Captain Montalvo for one night.
First of all he spirits off Lysbeth and is absent with her for four
hours; then he invites himself to supper and places himself at the head
of the table with her, setting me down to the dullest meal I ever ate at
the other end----"

"Cousin Dirk," said Aunt Clara with dignity, "your temper has got the
better of your manners. Certainly you might learn courtesy as well as
dress, even from so humble a person as a Spanish hidalgo and commander."
Then she rose from the table, adding--"Come, Lysbeth, if you are ready,
let us leave these gentlemen to their wine."

After the ladies had gone the supper went on merrily. In those days,
nearly everybody drank too much liquor, at any rate at feasts, and this
company was no exception. Even Montalvo, his game being won and the
strain on his nerves relaxed, partook pretty freely, and began to talk
in proportion to his potations. Still, so clever was the man that in his
cups he yet showed a method, for his conversation revealed a sympathy
with Netherlander grievances and a tolerance of view in religious
matters rarely displayed by a Spaniard.

From such questions they drifted into a military discussion, and
Montalvo, challenged by Van de Werff, who, as it happened, had not
drunk too much wine, explained how, were he officer in command, he would
defend Leyden from attack by an overwhelming force. Very soon Van de
Werff saw that he was a capable soldier who had studied his profession,
and being himself a capable civilian with a thirst for knowledge pressed
the argument from point to point.

"And suppose," he asked at length, "that the city were starving and
still untaken, so that its inhabitants must either fall into the hands
of the enemy or burn the place over their heads, what would you do
then?"

"Then, Mynheer, if I were a small man I should yield to the clamour of
the starving folk and surrender----"

"And if you were a big man, captain?"

"If I were a big man--ah! if I were a big man, why then--I should cut
the dykes and let the sea beat once more against the walls of Leyden. An
army cannot live in salt water, Mynheer."

"That would drown out the farmers and ruin the land for twenty years."

"Quite so, Mynheer, but when the corn has to be saved, who thinks of
spoiling the straw?"

"I follow you, Senor, your proverb is good, although I have never heard
it."

"Many good things come from Spain, Mynheer, including this red wine. One
more glass with you, for, if you will allow me to say it, you are a man
worth meeting over a beaker--or a blade."

"I hope that you will always retain the same opinion of me," answered
Van de Werff as he drank, "at the trencher or in the trenches."

Then Pieter went home, and before he slept that night made careful notes
of all the Spaniard's suggested military dispositions, both of attackers
and attacked, writing underneath them the proverb about the corn and the
straw. There existed no real reason why he should have done so, as he
was only a civilian engaged in business, but Pieter van de Werff chanced
to be a provident young man who knew many things might happen which
could not precisely be foreseen. As it fell out in after years, a time
came when he was able to put Montalvo's advice to good use. All readers
of the history of the Netherlands know how the Burgomaster Pieter van de
Werff saved Leyden from the Spanish.

As for Dirk van Goorl, he sought his lodging rather tipsy, and
arm-in-arm with none other than Captain the Count Don Juan de Montalvo.

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