By Pike and Dyke: a Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic by G. A. Henty (free ebook reader for iphone TXT) 📕

at the south corner of the Market Square at Brussels, and, touching you on the shoulder, ask 'How blows the wind in Holland?' These are the instructions I now give you. If such a man comes to you you will deliver the packet to him, if not you will open it and deliver the letters. But this last does not form part of your instructions.

"This device will not save your life if you are taken, but it may save you from torture and others from death. For were these unaddressed letters found upon you, you would be put to such cruel tortures that flesh and blood could not withstand them, and the names of those for whom these letters are intended would be wrung from you; but inclosed as they are to Master Blue Cap, it may be believed that you are merely a messenger whose instructions extend no further than the handing over the parcel to a friend of mine in Brussels. Now, you have no time to lose. You have your disguise to get, and these signs and the names they represent to commit to heart. A horse will be ready in two hours time to take you to Rotterdam, whence you will proceed in a coasting vessel to Sluys or Axel."

At the time named Ned was in readiness. He was dressed now as a young Flemish peasant. He had left the chest with his clothes, together with his armour and weapons, in the care of his aunt's father, for he hoped that before his return she would have left the town. He could not, however, obtain any promise that she would do so. Her argument was, if other women could stay in Haarlem why should she not do the same. Her friends and family were there; and although, if the Spaniards were to besiege the town, she might decide to quit it, she could not bring herself to go into exile, unless indeed all Holland was conquered and all hope gone.

Ned carried a stout stick; which was a more formidable weapon than it looked, for the knob was loaded with lead. He hesitated about taking pistols; for if at any time he were searched and such weapons found upon him the discovery might prove fatal, for a peasant boy certainly would not be carrying weapons that were at that time costly and comparatively rare. His despatches were sewn up in the lining of his coat, and his money, beyond that required for the present use, hidden in his big boots. A country horse with rough trappings, such as a small farmer might ride, was in readiness, and mounting this he rode to Rotterdam, some thirty-five miles distant, and there put it up at a small inn, where he had been charged to leave it.

He then walked down to the river and inquired about boats sailing for the ports of Sluys or Axel. He was not long in discovering one that would start the next day for the latter place, and after bargaining with the master for a passage returned to the inn. The next morning he set sail soon after daybreak. There were but three or four other passengers, and Ned was not long before he established himself on friendly terms with the master and the four men that constituted the crew.

"I wonder," he said presently to the master, "that trade still goes on between the towns of Holland and those in the provinces that hold to Alva."

"The citizens of those towns are greatly divided in their opinions," the captain said. "Many would gladly rise if they had the chance, but they lie too close to the Spanish power to venture to do so. Still they are friendly enough to us; and as they have need of our goods and we of theirs, no one hinders traffic or interferes with those who come and go. Most of these towns have but small Spanish garrisons, and these concern themselves not with anything that goes on beyond maintaining the place for Spain. It is the Catholic magistrates appointed by Alva who manage the affairs of the towns, and as these are themselves mostly merchants and traders their interests lie in keeping the ports open and encouraging trade, so we come and go unquestioned. The Spaniards have enough on their hands already without causing discontent by restricting trade. Besides, the duke affects to consider the rising in Holland and Zeeland as a trifling rebellion which he can suppress without difficulty, and it would be giving too much importance to the movement were he to close all the ports and forbid communication."

"Will you go outside or inside Walcheren?"

"Outside," the captain replied. "It is the longest way, but the safest. The Spaniards hold Middleburg and Tergoes, and have lately defeated the force from Flushing that endeavoured to capture Tergoes. There are many of our craft and some of the Spaniards in the passages, and fighting often takes place. It is better to avoid risks of trouble, although it may be a few leagues further round by Walcheren. I am ready to take my share of the fighting when it is needful, and aid in carrying the troops across from Flushing and back, but when I have goods in my hold I like to keep as well away from it as may be."

They cast anchor off Flushing, for the wind was now foul, but when tide turned they again got under way and beat up the channel to Axel. No questions were asked as they drew up alongside the wharves. Ned at once stepped ashore and made his way to a small inn, chiefly frequented by sailors, near the jetty. The shades of night were just falling as they arrived, and he thought it were better not to attempt to proceed further until the following morning. He had been several times at Axel in the Good Venture, and was familiar with the town. The population was a mixed one, for although situated in Brabant, Axel had so much communication with the opposite shores of Holland that a considerable portion of the population had imbibed something of the spirit that animated their neighbours, and would, if opportunity offered, have gladly thrown off the authority of the officials appointed by the Spaniards.

Ned knew that as a stranger he should be viewed with great suspicion by the frequenters of the little inn, for the spy system was carried to such an extent that people were afraid to utter their sentiments even in the bosom of their own families. He therefore walked about until it was time to retire to rest, and in that way escaped alike the suspicions and questionings he might otherwise have encountered. He could easily have satisfied them as to the past--he had just arrived in the coasting smack the Hopeful from Rotterdam, and the master of the craft could, if questioned, corroborate his statement--but it would not be so easy to satisfy questioners as to the object of his coming. Why should a lad from Holland want to come to Brabant? Every one knew that work was far more plentiful in the place he had come from than in the states under the Spaniards, where the cultivators scarce dare sow crops sufficient for their own consumption, so extensive was the pillaging carried on by the Spanish troops.

These, always greatly in arrears of pay, did not hesitate to take all they required from the unfortunate inhabitants; and the latter knew that resistance or complaint was alike useless, for the soldiers were always on the verge of mutiny. Their officers had little control over them; and Alva himself was always short of money, and being unable to pay his troops was obliged to allow them to maintain themselves upon the country.

As soon as the gates were open in the morning Ned made his way to that through which the road to Brussels ran. The four or five Spanish soldiers at the gate asked no questions, and Ned passed on with a brisk step. He had gone about three miles when he heard sounds of horses' hoofs behind him, and presently two men came along. One was, by his appearance, a person of some importance, the other he took to be his clerk. Ned doffed his hat as the horse went past.

"Where are you going lad?" the elder of the two men asked.

"I am going, worshipful sir, to see some friends who live at the village of Deligen, near Brussels."

"These are evil times for travelling. Your tongue shows that you come not from Brabant."

"No, sir, my relations lived at Vordwyk, hard by Amsterdam."

"Amsterdam is a faithful city; although there, as elsewhere, there are men who are traitors to their king and false to their faith. You are not one of them, I hope?"

"I do not know," Ned said, "that I am bound to answer questions of any that ride by the highway, unless I know that they have right and authority to question me."

"I have right and authority," the man said angrily. "My name is Philip Von Aert, and I am one of the council charged by the viceroy to investigate into these matters."

Ned again doffed his hat. "I know your name, worshipful sir, as that of one who is foremost in searching out heretics. There are few in the land, even ignorant country boys like myself, who have not heard it."

The councillor looked gratified. "Ah! you have heard me well spoken of?" he said.

"I have heard you spoken of, sir, well or ill, according to the sentiments of those who spoke."

"And why have you left Amsterdam to journey so far from home? This is a time when all men must be looked upon with suspicion until they prove themselves to be good Catholics and faithful subjects of the king, and even a boy like you may be engaged upon treasonable business. I ask you again, why are you leaving your family at Amsterdam?"

"Misfortunes have fallen upon them," Ned replied, "and they can no longer maintain me."

"Misfortunes, ah! and of what kind?"

"Their business no longer brings them in profit," Ned replied. "They lived, as I told your worship, not in the town itself, but in a village near it, and in these troubled times trade is well nigh at a standstill, and there is want at many a man's door."

"I shall stop for the night at Antwerp, where I have business to do; see when you arrive there that you call upon me. I must have further talk with you, for your answers do not satisfy me."

Ned bowed low.

"Very well, see that you fail not, or it will be the worse for you." So saying Von Aert put spurs to his horse, which had been walking alongside Ned as he conversed, and rode forward at a gallop.

CHAPTER VIII

IN THE HANDS OF THE BLOOD COUNCIL

"You are an evil looking pair of scoundrels," Ned said to himself as he looked after the retreating figures of the two men. "The master I truly know by name as one of the worst instruments of the tyrant; as to the man, knave is written on his face. He is as thin as a scarecrow--he has a villainous squint and an evil smile on his face. If I had been bent on any other errand I would have given very different answers, and taken my chance of holding my own with this good stick of mine. At any rate I told them no absolute lies. The councillor will not have a chance of asking me any more questions this evening, and I only hope that he will be too busy to think any more about it. I will take the road through Ghent; it matters little which way I go, for the two roads seem to me to