The Laughing Cavalier by Baroness Orczy (best 7 inch ereader .TXT) 📕

I feel that your words would not be characterized by that dignity and courtesy which one would expect from so noble a gentleman.”

“Smeerlap!⁠—” began Stoutenburg once more.

“There now,” rejoined the other with imperturbable bonhomie, “what did I tell you? Believe me, sir, ’tis much the best to be silent if pleasant words fail to reach one’s lips.”

“A truce on this nonsense,” quoth Stoutenburg hotly, “you took me unawares⁠—like a coward.⁠ ⁠…”

“Well said, mynheer! Like a coward⁠—that is just how I took you⁠—in the act of striking a miserable atom of humanity⁠—who is as defenceless as a sparrow.”

“ ’Tis ludicrous indeed to see a man of your calling posing as the protector of women,” retorted Stoutenburg with a sneer. “But enough of this. You find me unarmed at this moment, else you had already paid for this impudent interference.”

“I thank you, sir,” said Diogenes as he swept the Lord of Stoutenburg a deep, ironical bow, “I thank you for thus momentarily withholding chastisement from my unworthiness. When may I have the honour of calling on your Magnificence in order that you might mete unto me the punishment which I have so amply deserved?”

“That chastisement will lose nothing by waiting, since indeed your insolence passes belief,” quoth Stoutenburg hotly. “Now go!” he added, choosing not to notice the wilfully impertinent attitude of the other man, “leave me alone with this wench. My business is with her.”

“So is mine, gracious lord,” rejoined Diogenes with a bland smile, “else I were not here. This room is mine⁠—perhaps your Magnificence did not know that⁠—you would not like surely to remain my guest a moment longer than you need.”

“Of a truth I knew that the baggage was your sweetheart⁠—else I had not come at all.”

“Leave off insulting the girl, man,” said Diogenes whose moustache bristled again, a sure sign that his temper was on the boil, “she has told you the truth, she knows nothing of the whereabouts of the noble lady who has disappeared from Haarlem. An you desire information on that point you had best get it elsewhere.”

But Stoutenburg had in the meanwhile succeeded in recovering⁠—at any rate partially⁠—his presence of mind. All his life he had been accustomed to treat these foreign adventurers with the contempt which they deserved. In the days of John of Barneveld’s high position in the State, his sons would never have dreamed of parleying with the knaves, and if⁠—which God forbid!⁠—one of them had dared then to lay hands on any member of the High Advocate’s family, hanging would certainly have been the inevitable punishment of such insolence.

Something of that old haughtiness and pride of caste crept into the attitude of the Lord of Stoutenburg now, and prudence also suggested that he should feign to ignore the rough usage which he had received at the hands of this contemptible rascal. Though he was by no means unarmed⁠—for he never went abroad these days without a poniard in his belt⁠—he had, of a truth, no mind to engage in a brawl with this young Hercules whose profession was that of arms and who might consequently get easily the better of him.

He made every effort therefore to remain calm and to look as dignified as his disordered toilet would allow.

“You heard what I said to this girl?” he queried, speaking carelessly.

“You screamed loudly enough,” replied Diogenes lightly. “I heard you through the closed door. I confess that I listened for quite a long while: your conversation greatly interested me. I only interfered when I thought it necessary.”

“So then I need not repeat what I said,” quoth the other lightly. “Hanging for you, my man, unless you tell me where you have hidden Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn.”

“I? What have I to do with that noble lady, pray?”

“It is futile to bandy words with me. I know every circumstance of the disappearance of the lady, and could denounce you to the authorities within half an hour, and see you hanged for the outrage before sunrise.”

“Then I do wonder,” said Diogenes suavely, “that your Magnificence doth not do this, for of a truth you must hate me fairly thoroughly by now.”

“Hate you, man? I’d gladly see you hang, or better still broken on the wheel. But I must know from you first where you have hidden the jongejuffrouw.”

“If I am to hang anyway, sir, why should I trouble to tell you?”

“The lady is my affianced wife,” said Stoutenburg haughtily, “I have every right to demand an explanation from you, why you are here when by the terms of your contract with my friend Nicolaes Beresteyn you should at this moment be on your way to Rotterdam, escorting the jongejuffrouw to the house of Ben Isaje, the banker.⁠ ⁠… You see that I am well informed,” he added impatiently, seeing that Diogenes had become suddenly silent, and that a curious shadow had spread over his persistently smiling face.

“So well informed, sir,” rejoined the latter after a slight pause, and speaking more seriously than he had done hitherto, “so well informed that I marvel you do not know that by the terms of that same contract I pledged my word to convey the jongejuffrouw safely to a certain spot and with all possible speed, but that further actions on my part were to remain for mine own guidance. I also pledged my word of honour that I would remain silent about all these matters.”

“Bah!” broke in Stoutenburg roughly, “knaves like you have no honour to pledge.”

“No doubt, sir, you are the best judge of what a knave would do.”

“Insolent⁠ ⁠… do you dare⁠ ⁠… ?”

“If you like it better, sir, I’ll say that I have parleyed long enough with you to suit my temper. This room is mine,” he added, speaking every whit as haughtily as did the other man. “I have business with this wench, and came here, desirous to speak with her alone, so I pray you go! this roof is too lowly to shelter the Lord of Stoutenburg.”

At mention of