“I come from Holland,” he said, “and was the bearer of important letters from the Prince of Orange.”
The woman hesitated. “I would not doubt you,” she said; “but in these days one has to be suspicious of one's shadow. However, as after what you have heard our lives are in your hands, I would fain trust you; though it seems to me strange that an important mission should be intrusted to one of your age and station.”
“My age was all in my favour,” Ned replied. “As to my station, it is not quite what it seems; for I am a gentleman volunteer in the household of the prince, and he accepted my services thinking that I might succeed when a man would be suspected.”
“I will give you shelter,” the woman said quietly; “though I know that I risk my life and my daughter's in doing so. But the Lord holds us in His hands, and unless it be His will we shall not perish.” So saying, she got up and barred the door.
“Now, tell me more as to how you came to fall into this peril,” she said.
Ned related his adventure, and the manner in which he had effected his escape from the hands of his captors.
“You have, indeed, had an escape,” the woman said. “There are few upon whom Councillor Von Aert lays his hand who ever escape from it. You have indeed shown both skill and courage in thus freeing yourself.”
“There is no great courage in running away when you know that if you stay torture and death are before you,” Ned replied.
“And now, what are your plans?” the woman asked.
“My only plan is to obtain a disguise in which to escape from the city. My mission is unfortunately ended by the loss of my papers, and I shall have but a sorry story to tell to the prince if I succeed in making my way back to Holland, of the utter failure I have made of the mission with which he was good enough to intrust me.”
He took from his belt the packet that Von Aert had given him, and was about to throw it in the fire when his eye fell upon it. He opened it hastily, and exclaimed with delight, “Why, here are the letters! That scoundrel must have had them in his doublet, as well as the packet made up for me to carry, and he has inadvertently given me the wrong parcel. See, madam, these are the letters I told you of, and these are the marks in the corners whose meaning Von Aert was so anxious to discover. Now, if I can but obtain a good disguise I will deliver these letters before I start on my way back.”
The girl, who was about fourteen years of age, spoke a few words in a low voice to her mother. The latter glanced at Ned.
“My daughter suggests that you should disguise yourself as a woman,” she said. “And indeed in point of height you might pass well, seeing that you are but little taller than myself. But I fear that you are far too widely built across the shoulders to wear my clothes.”
“Yes, indeed,” Ned agreed, smiling; “but you are tall and slight. I could pass well enough for one of these Flemish peasant girls, for they are sometimes near as broad as they are long. Yes, indeed, if I could get a dress such as these girls wear I could pass easily enough. I am well provided with money, but unfortunately it is hidden in the ground a mile outside the gates. I only carry with me a small sum for daily use, and that of course was taken from me by my jailers.”
“Be not uneasy about money,” the woman said. “Like yourself, we are not exactly what we look. I am the Countess Von Harp.”
Ned made a movement of surprise. The name was perfectly known to him, being that of a noble in Friesland who had been executed at Brussels a few months before by the orders of the Council of Blood.
“When my husband was murdered,” the Countess Von Harp went on, “I received a warning from a friend that I and my daughter, being known to be members of the Reformed Church, would be seized. For myself I cared little; but for my daughter's sake I resolved to endeavour to escape. I knew that I should be nowhere safe in the Netherlands, and that there was little chance of a woman and girl being able to escape from the country, when upon every road we should meet with disorderly soldiery, and every town we should pass through swarmed with Alva's agents. I resolved, therefore, to stay here. An old servant took this house for me, and here I have lived ever since in the disguise you see. My servant still lives with us, and goes abroad and makes our purchases. Our neighbours are all artisans and attend to their own business. It is supposed among them that I am one who has been ruined in the troubles, and now support myself by embroidery; but in fact I am well supplied with money. When I came here I brought all my jewels with me; besides, I have several good friends who know my secret, and through whom, from time to time, money has been transmitted to me from my steward in Friesland. Our estates in Brabant have of course been confiscated, and for a time those in Friesland were also seized. But when the people rose four months ago they turned out the man who had seized them, and as he was a member of the Council of Blood he was lucky in escaping with his life. So that, you see, the cost of a peasant woman's dress is a matter that need give you no concern.”
There was now a knock at the door. It was repeated.
“It is my servant,” the countess said. Ned at once unbarred and opened the door. The old woman gave an exclamation of astonishment at seeing a stranger.
“Come in, Magdalene,” the countess said; “it is a friend. You are later than I expected.”
“It is not my fault, madam,” the old servant said. “I have been stopped four or five times, and questioned and made game of, by German soldiers posted at the ends of the streets; the quarter is full of them. I was going through the market place when a sudden tumult arose, and they say a prisoner of great importance has made his escape. Councillor Von Aert was there, shouting like a madman. But he had better have held his tongue; for as soon as he was recognized the crowd hustled and beat him, and went nigh killing him, when some men with drawn swords rescued him from their hands, and with great difficulty escorted him to the town hall. He is hated in Brussels, and it was rash of him to venture out after dark.”
“This is the escaped prisoner, Magdalene.” The old woman looked with surprise at Ned.
“You are pleased to joke with me, madam. This is but a boy.”
“That is true, Magdalene; but he is, nevertheless, the prisoner whose escaped angered the councillor so terribly, and for whom the guard you speak of are now in search.”
The old servant shook her head. “Ah, madam, are you not running risks enough of detection here without adding to them that of concealing a fugitive?”
“You are right,” Ned said; “and it was selfish and wrong of me to intrude myself here.”
“God willed it so,” the countess said. “My daughter's voice was the instrument that directed your steps here. It is strange that she should have sung that hymn just as you were passing, and that I should have heard her without checking her. The hand of God is in all these things; therefore, do not make yourself uneasy on our account. Magdalene, we have settled that he shall assume the disguise of a young peasant girl, and tomorrow you shall purchase the necessary garments.”
“Yes, he might pass as a girl,” the old servant agreed. “But, I pray you, let him not stay an instant in this garb. I do not think they will search the houses, for the artisans of Brussels are tenacious of their rights, and an attempt would bring them out like a swarm of bees. Still it is better that he should not remain as he is for an hour. Come with me, young sir; I will furnish you with clothes at once. I am not so tall as I was, but there were few taller women in Friesland than I was when I was the countess' nurse.
Ned could well imagine that; for Magdalene, although now some sixty years old, was a tall, large framed woman. He followed her to a chamber upstairs, and was furnished by her with all the necessary articles of dress; and in these, as soon as, having placed an oil lamp on the table, she retired, he proceeded to array himself, and presently descended the stairs, feeling very strange and awkward in this new attire. Gertrude Von Harp burst into a fit of merry laughter, and even the countess smiled.
“That will do very well, indeed,” she said, “when you have got on the Flemish headdress, which conceals the hair.”
“I have it here, madam,” Magdalene said; “but it was useless to leave it up there for him, for he would have no idea how to fold it rightly. Now sit down on that stool, sir, and I will put it on for you.”
When this was done the metamorphosis was complete, and Ned could have passed anywhere without exciting suspicion that he was other than he seemed.
“That will do all very well for the present,” Magdalene said; “but the first thing tomorrow I will go out and get him a gown at the clothes mart. His face is far too young for that dress. Moreover the headgear is not suited to the attire; he needs, too, a long plait of hair to hang down behind. That I can also buy for him, and a necklace or two of bright coloured beads. However, he could pass now as my niece should any one chance to come in. Now I will go
