"Yes, indeed, Adolf, gladly might we surrender ourselves to these consoling thoughts; but why should we flatter ourselves with hopes so deceitful? Will not the King of France avenge his fallen soldiers? Will not De Chatillon, our most rancorous enemy, goad on his terrible niece Joanna? Think, then, Adolf, what pangs can not this bloodthirsty woman imagine, to avenge on us the bravery of the Flemings?"
"Torment not yourself; for your fears are without foundation. Probably the horrible death of his soldiers has convinced Philip the Fair that the Flemings will never bow their free necks to the yoke of the alien. His own interest will constrain him to set at liberty our country's lords; otherwise he will lose the fairest fief of his crown. You see, noble damsel, that everything is propitious to us."
"Yes, yes, Adolf; in your presence all my sorrows melt away, and disappear utterly. Your speech is so full of comfort, you awaken such sweetly-echoing tones in my heart."
They conversed thus a long time peacefully together on their fears and their hopes. When Adolf had given Matilda all the information in his power, and had filled her heart with comfort, he turned with brotherly love to his sister, and held with her a soothing discourse, which attuned them all to gladness and serenity. Matilda forgot her bygone sufferings; she breathed freely and with courage, and the veins which were spread over her cheeks like delicate network were filled with warmer blood.
Suddenly they heard a loud tumult in the street; a thousand voices rang from the roofs of the houses, and the jubilant shouts of the crowd were mingled in indistinguishable confusion; only at intervals was the cry intelligible amid the joyous clapping of hands: "Flanders, the Lion! hail, hail to our Countl" Adolf and the two maidens had drawn near to the window; they saw the countless heads of the crowds hastening to the market-place. Women and children swelled the procession, which passed before the curious maidens like a billowy sea. In another street resounded the tramp of a multitude of horses, so that they were confirmed in their conjecture that a troop of cavalry had entered Bruges. While they were discussing the probable reasons of this popular commotion, a servant announced the arrival of a messenger, who craved an audience, and who entered the room immediately on receiving permission.
It was a youthful page, a delicate boy, whose features bore a peculiar expression of innocence and truthfulness: he was clothed in black and blue silk, set off with manifold adornments. As he drew near to the ladies, he respectfully uncovered his head, and made lowly obeisance without speaking a word.
"What good tidings do you bring us, dear boy?" asked Matilda graciously. The page raised his head, and replied with his gentle voice:
"For the most illustrious daughter of the Lion, our Count, I bring a message from my lord and master Guy, who has just entered the city with five hundred horsemen. He sends his greeting to his
fair niece, Matilda de Bethune, and will in a few moments express his deep affection to her in person. This is the message, noble maiden, which I was charged to deliver to you."
And with these words he made a reverential bow, and disappeared at the door. In fulfilment of the promise which he had made to Deconinck in the wood, near the ruins of Nieuwenhove, the young Guy had arrived with the promised succors from Namur. He had taken Castle Wynandael on his way, and had put the French garrison to the sword. He had razed to the ground the Castle of Sysseele, because the castellan was a sworn Lilyard and had offered the French a refuge within its walls. The victorious entry of Guy filled the citizens of Bruges with exulting joy, and in every street resounded the cry, "Hail to our Count! Flanders! the Lion!"
When the young general with his suite had reached the Friday Market-place, the masters of the Guilds presented him with the keys of the city; and he was thus proclaimed Count of Flanders, until the liberation of Robert de Bethune, his brother. The citizens already deemed their liberty secure; for now they had a chief who could lead them forth to the fight. The horsemen were quartered among the most distinguished citizens; and so great was the zeal and the joy of the inhabitants that there was quite a struggle to seize the reins of the horses; for every one wished to receive into his house one of the Count's followers; but it is easy to imagine with what kindness and courtesy these valuable auxiliaries were welcomed.
As soon as Guy had assumed the government which Deconinck had established and secured, he hastened to the house of Nieuwland, embraced his afflicted niece, and recounted to her with joy how he had driven the aliens from their beloved Wynandael. A costly banquet awaited them, prepared by Maria in honor of her brother's return. They drank the wine of joy for the liberation of the enslaved Flemings, and consecrated a tear to the mournful memory of the poisoned Philippa.
CHAPTER II
After the fearful night in which the blood of the French had flowed in such abundant streams, De Chatillon, John van Gistel, and the few others who had escaped death, were received within the walls of Courtrai. In the city they found a numerous garrison, trusting in peaceful security to the strength of the castle; for on this place the French counted most confidently, as its fortifications were really unassailable. De Chatillon, a prey to hopeless despair on account of his defeat, was burning with the desire of vengeance. He hastily drew some small companies of mercenaries from the other cities
