Leatherface Part 19

The Prince was the first to recover himself.

"It is Leatherface," he whispered, "come to give me warning."

He rose and would have gone to the window, but Clemence van Rycke caught him by the arm and clung convulsively to him. "Not you, Monseigneur,"

she entreated, "not you--it might be a traitor."

Then the tapping was repeated and Laurence went cautiously up to the window, and after an instant's hesitation, he suddenly drew the curtains aside with a resolute gesture. Then he unfastened the tall cas.e.m.e.nt and threw it open.

The night was of an inky blackness, and as the lattice flew open a gust of wind and heavy driving rain nearly extinguished the light of the candle, but in the framework of the window a man's head and shoulders detached themselves from out the gloom. The head and shoulders were closely enveloped in a hood and cape, and the face was hidden by a mask, and all were dripping with wet.

"Leatherface!" murmured the Prince, and Clemence van Rycke gave a sigh of relief.

"There is a light in the window above," whispered the man with the mask, "and a shadow has crossed behind the windows of the corridor. Someone is astir overhead--and the civic business at the Town House is drawing to an end."

"We have nearly finished," murmured the Prince in reply. "And I'll come away at once. Is the street clear?"

"Quite--and will be for another ten minutes till the night-watchman comes round. I saw him just now, he is very drunk and might make trouble."

"I come, friend," rejoined the Prince, "and as soon as may be."

The hooded head disappeared in the gloom; Laurence closed the window and drew the curtains together again.

"I envy that man," he said, and Clemence murmured a fervent: "G.o.d bless him!"

IV

Then the Prince turned once more to his friends.

"You see," he said with his grave smile, "how carefully my dragon guards me. There is evidently no time for lengthy explanations, and I must be as brief as I can."

He now opened the wallet at his belt and took out from it a small packet of papers.

"I am going to entrust these papers to Messire Laurence van Rycke," he said, "they contain the names and places of abode and of business of every one of those two thousand men who have actually tendered me their oath of allegiance, and have sworn to give me unconditional support. I propose that Messire van Rycke keep these lists, because it will undoubtedly be his father, the High-Bailiff, who will learn sooner than any one else in the town the day and hour of the Duke of Alva's visit to Ghent. As soon as this is known to him, Messire van Rycke will then go to each of you, seigniors, and give you each a list of five hundred names, at the head of which will be noted the rallying point where these men will have to meet their captain and receive their arms. You in your turn will then each go and beat up the five hundred men whose names will have been given you, and order them to go to their respective rallying points. All this plan," added the Prince, "has been very carefully thought out, and it seems to me simple and easy of execution. But if any of you, seigniors, can think of a better one, I am, of course, always ready to take advice. You know your own city, better than I do--you might devise something still more practical than what I propose."

"Nay!" interposed one of the men, "meseems that nothing could be more simple, and I for one do vote unconditionally for the acceptance of His Highness' plan."

The others all gave their a.s.sent--hastily now, for again that gentle tapping was heard against the window-pane, only rather more firmly, more urgently this time. But no one went to the window to see what the tapping meant; obviously the faithful watcher outside scented some still hidden danger. The Prince at once by rising gave the signal that the conference was at an end. As he did so he handed the packet of papers to Laurence van Rycke who received it on bended knee.

"It is a treasure, Messire," said William of Orange earnestly, "which involves the lives of many and even, perhaps, the whole existence of this city. Where will you keep it?"

It was Clemence van Rycke who replied:

"This room," she said, "is mine own private withdrawing-room; that bureau there hath a wonderful lock which defies the cleverest thief; it contains my most valuable jewels. The papers will be safer there than anywhere."

"Let me see you lock them up in there, mevrouw," rejoined the Prince graciously, "I entrust them to you and to Laurence with utmost confidence."

Clemence then handed a key to her son and he locked the packet up in the tall bureau of carved and inlaid mahogany and satin-wood which stood in an angle of the narrow room close to the window and opposite to the door.

"I am meeting some friends and adherents to-morrow," said William of Orange finally, "at the house of Messire the Procurator-General whom of a truth G.o.d will bless for his loyalty--and I pray you, seigniors, as many of you as can do so to meet me there at this same hour. But should we not meet again, do you understand all that you have to do?"

The men nodded in silence, whereupon the Prince took formal leave of them and of his host and hostess. He said kind and grateful words to Clemence van Rycke, who, with tears in her eyes, kissed the gracious hand which was held out to her. She then escorted her n.o.ble guest out of the room and across the dining-hall, the others following closely behind. All were treading as noiselessly as they could. The door which gave from the dining-room on the hall and staircase beyond was wide open: the room itself was in absolute darkness, and only a tiny light flickered in the hall, which made the shadows round corners and in recesses appear all the more dense.

"Will your Highness grope your way to the front door," whispered Clemence van Rycke, "or shall my son bring a lanthorn to guide you?"

"No, no," said William of Orange hurriedly, "that small light yonder is quite sufficient. I can see my way, and we must try not to wake your hall-porter."

"Oh! nothing will rouse him save a very severe shaking, and the bolts and bars have been left undone, as my husband will be coming home late to-night."

"And, if I am not mistaken," quoth the Prince, "my devoted friend Leatherface is waiting for me outside to see me safely to my lodgings.

He is always mistrustful of hidden traps or hired a.s.sa.s.sins for me.

Farewell, seigniors!" he added lightly, "remember my instructions in case we do not meet again."

"But to-morrow..." interposed Laurence van Rycke.

"Aye! to-morrow," said William of Orange, "at this hour at the house of Messire Deynoot, the Procurator-General: those of you, seigniors, who care to come will be welcome."

"Not one of us would care to stay away," rejoined Laurence with earnest conviction.

CHAPTER VIII

THE WATCHER IN THE NIGHT

I

Lenora, thinking that Mevrouw van Rycke was still astir, and pining for motherly comfort and companionship, had crept softly down the stairs candle in hand, when all of a sudden she paused in the vast hall.

Everything was so still and so weird that any noise, even that of a mouse skimming over a carpet, would have made itself felt in the absolute silence which lay over the house, and Lenora's ear had most certainly heard--or rather felt, a noise--the sound of people moving and speaking somewhere, not very far from where she stood ... listening ...

every sense on the alert.

With a sudden instinct, half of fear and half of caution, she blew out the candle and then groped her way, with hands outstretched, hardly daring to breathe. The tiny, flickering light which came from an iron lamp fixed to a bracket at the foot of the stairs made the hall seem yet more vast and strange; but one small, elvish ray caught the polished bra.s.s handle of the dining-room door, and this glimmer of metal seemed to attract Lenora toward it. After awhile her eyes became a little more accustomed to the gloom, she tip-toed up to that door-handle which so attracted her, and placing both her hands upon it, she crouched there--beside the door--listening.

In effect there were people moving and talking not far from where she crouched--no doubt that they were in the small withdrawing-room beyond, and that the door of communication between the two rooms was open.

Lenora--motionless, palpitating, her heart beating so that it nearly choked her, felt that all her faculties must now be merged into those of hearing, and, if possible, seeing what was going on in this house, and at this hour of the night when the High-Bailiff was from home.

Whether any thought of conspiracy or of State secrets had at this time entered her head it were impossible to say, whether she thought of Ramon's murderer or of her oath to her father just then, who can tell?

Certainly not the girl herself--she only listened--listened with all her might, and anon she heard the sc.r.a.ping of a chair against the tiled floor, then the iron rings of a curtain sliding along the rod, finally the whistling sound of a gust of wind rushing through an open window.

This moment she chose as her opportunity. She turned the handle of the door very gently, and quite noiselessly it responded to her touch. Then she pushed the door wide open and waited--listening.

The door into the withdrawing-room was wide open just as she had conjectured, the wind was blowing the feeble light about which flickered in that room, and there were men in there who moved stealthily and spoke in whispers. Lenora crept forward--furtive as a mouse. The darkness in the dining-hall was impenetrable, and she in her house-dress of dark woollen stuff made no noise as she glided along, keeping well within the gloom, her hands stretched out before her to feel the objects that might be in her way.

At last she came within range of the open door and had a view of the little room beyond. She saw the table in the centre, the men sitting around it, and Clemence van Rycke in a high-back chair at its further end. Just now they all had their faces turned toward the window, where in the open cas.e.m.e.nt the head and shoulders of a man were dimly visible to Lenora for one instant and then disappeared.