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

you may well miss your road, especially if there is no moon, and you do not know the country. Therefore I pray you urgently to come back here for tonight. It is a pleasure to us to have a visitor here, and does us good to have a fresh subject for our thoughts. Gertrude has been doing nothing but talk about England ever since she woke."

Although Ned saw that the old servant was very reluctant that he should, as she considered, imperil her charges' safety by a longer stay, he could not refuse the invitation so warmly given. Breakfast was now placed on the table. As soon as the meal was over he prepared to start, receiving many directions from Magdalene to be sure and not take long strides, or to swing his arms too much, or to stare about, but to carry himself discreetly, as was becoming a young woman in a town full of rough foreign men.

"How do you mean to see the people to whom you have letters?" the countess asked. "Some of them, you tell me, are nobles, and it will not be easy for a peasant girl to come into their presence."

"I am told to send up the message that a person from the village of Beerholt is desirous of speaking to them, countess," Ned replied. "I believe there is no such village, but it is a sort of password; and I have another with which to address them when they see me."

"I will start with you," the servant said, "and walk with you until you are past the guards. There are many soldiers about in the quarter this morning, and I hear they are questioning every one whether they have seen aught of a country lad."

"I thank you," Ned replied, "but I would rather go alone. If I am detected harm would only come to myself, but if you were with me you would assuredly all be involved in my misfortune. I would far rather go alone. I do not feel that there is any danger of my being suspected; and if I am alone I can bandy jokes with the soldiers if they speak to me. There is no fear that either Spanish or Germans will notice that I speak Dutch rather than Flemish. What is the price at which I ought to offer my eggs?"

Magdalene told him the price she generally paid to the market women. "Of course you must ask a little more than that, and let people beat you down to that figure."

"Now I am off, then," he said, taking up the basket.

"May God keep you in His hands!" the countess said solemnly. "It is not only your own life that is at stake, but the interests of our country."

"Turn round and let me take a last look at you," Magdalene said, "and be sure that everything is right. Yes, you will pass; but remember what I told you about your walk."

Ned walked briskly along until he came within sight of two soldiers standing at a point where the street branched. He now walked more slowly, stopping here and there and offering his eggs to women standing at their doors or going in and out. As he thought it better to effect a sale he asked rather lower prices than those Magdalene had given him, and disposed of three or four dozen before he reached the soldiers. They made no remark as he passed. He felt more confident now, and began to enter into the spirit of his part; and when one of a group of soldiers in front of a wine shop made some laughing remark to him he answered him pertly, and turned the laugh of the man's comrades against him.

On nearing the centre of the town he began his task of delivering the letters, choosing first those who resided in comparatively quiet streets, so as to get rid of as many of them as possible before he entered the more crowded thoroughfares, where his risk of detection would be greater. The only persons he was really afraid of meeting were Von Aert and his clerk. The first might not detect him, but he felt sure that if the eyes of the latter fell upon him he would recognize him. With the various burghers he had little trouble. If they were in their shops he walked boldly in, and said to them, "I am the young woman from the village of Beerholt, whom you were expecting to see;" and in each case the burgher said at once, "It is my wife who has business with you," and led the way into the interior of the house. Ned's next question: "How is the wind blowing in Holland?" was answered by his being taken into a quiet room. The letter was then produced, and in each case an answer more or less satisfactory was given.

Ned found that there were a large number of men in Brussels ripe for a revolt, but that there was no great chance of the rising taking place until the Prince of Orange had gained some marked success, such as would encourage hopes that the struggle might in the end be successful. In three or four cases there were favourable answers to the appeals for funds, one burgher saying that he and his friends had subscribed between them a hundred thousand gulden, which they would forward by the first opportunity to a banker at Leyden. One said that he found that the prince's proclamations of absolute toleration of all religions produced a bad effect upon many of his friends, for that in Brabant they were as attached as ever to the Catholic religion, and would be loath to see Lutheran and Calvinist churches opened.

"I know that the prince is desirous of wounding no one's conscience," Ned said. "But how can it be expected the Protestants of Holland and Zeeland will allow the Catholics to have churches, with priests and processions, in their midst, if their fellow religionists are not suffered to worship in their way in Brabant? The prince has already proclaimed that every province may, as at present, make its own rules. And doubtless in the provinces where the Catholic religion is dominant it will still remain so. Only he claims that no man shall be persecuted for his religion."

"It is a pity that we cannot all be of one mind," the man said doubtfully. "Were there no religious questions between the provinces they would be as one."

"That may be," Ned replied. "But in religion as in all other things, men will differ just as they do about the meats they eat and the wines they drink."

"Well, I shall do my best," the burgher said. "But I fear these religious differences will forever stand in the way of any united action on the part of the provinces."

"I fear that it will," Ned agreed, "so long as people think it more important to enforce their neighbours' consciences than to obtain freedom for themselves."

The two last letters that Ned had to deliver were to nobles, whose mansions were situated in the Grand Square. It was not easy to obtain access here. The lackeys would probably laugh in his face did he ask them to take his message to their master. And indeed the disguise he now wore, although excellent as protection from danger, was the worst possible as regarded his chance of obtaining an interview. By this time he had sold the greater part of his eggs, and he sat down, as if fatigued, on a doorstep at a short distance from one of the mansions, and waited in the hope that he might presently see the noble with whom he had to do issue out.

In half an hour two mounted lackeys rode up to the door, one of them leading a horse. A short time afterwards a gentleman came out and mounted. He heard a bystander say to another, "There is the Count of Sluys." Ned got up, took his basket, and as the count came along crossed the road hurriedly just in front of his horse. As he did so he stumbled and fell, and a number of his eggs rolled out on the ground. There was a laugh among the bystanders, and the count reigned in his horse.

"What possessed you to run like that under my horse's feet, my poor girl?" he asked, as Ned rose and began to cry loudly. Ned looked up in his face and rapidly said: "I am the person you expect from Beerholt."

The count gave a low exclamation of surprise, and Ned went on, "How does the wind blow in Holland?" The count deliberately felt in his pouch and drew out a coin, which he handed to Ned.

"Be at my back door in an hour's time. Say to the servant who opens it, 'I am the person expected.' He will lead you to me."

Then he rode forward, Ned pouring out voluble thanks for the coin bestowed upon him.

"You are a clever wench," a soldier standing by said to Ned laughing. "That was very artfully done, and I warrant me it is not the first time you have tried it."

"I wasn't going to carry my eggs all the way back," Ned replied in an undertone. "I suppose there are tricks in your trade as in mine."

The soldier laughed again, and Ned passing quickly on mingled in the crowd, and soon moved away a considerable distance from the house. An hour later he went up a side street, in which was the door used by the servants and tradespeople of the count. A lackey was standing there. "I am the person expected," Ned said quietly to him. He at once led the way into the house up some back stairs and passages, along a large corridor, then opening a door, he motioned to Ned to enter.

CHAPTER X

A DANGEROUS ENCOUNTER

The Count of Sluys was sitting at a table covered with papers.

"You have chosen a strange disguise," he said with a smile.

"It is none of my choosing," Ned replied. "I came into the city in the dress of a peasant boy, but was arrested by Councillor Von Aert, and had I not made my escape should probably have by this time been hung."

"Are you the lad for whom such a search has been made?" the count asked in surprise. "Von Aert is so furious he can talk about nothing else, and all the world is laughing at his having been tricked by a boy. Had I known that it was the prince's messenger I should not have felt inclined to laugh; thinking that papers, that would have boded me evil if discovered, might have been found upon him."

"They were found upon me," Ned replied; "but happily I recovered them. As they were not addressed, no one was any the wiser. This is the one intended for you, sir."

The count opened and read the document, and then gave Ned a long message to deliver to the prince. It contained particulars of his interviews with several other nobles, with details as to the number of men they could put in the field, and the funds they could dispose of in aid of the rising. Ned took notes of all the figures on a slip of paper, as he had done in several other instances. The count then asked him as to his arrest and manner of escape, and laughed heartily when he found that Von Aert had himself by mistake returned the letters found upon Ned.

"I have delivered all but one," Ned said. "And that I know not how to dispose of, for it would be dangerous to play the same trick again. And, indeed, I want if possible to be out of town tomorrow; not so much for my own sake,