"I shall not allow such considerations to turn me from my purpose; of that assure yourself. Master Roger. My father was ever the good friend to the city of Bruges; it is to his intervention that they owe many of their privileges, and I do not think that the Dean of the Clothworkers and his company have forgotten it. And, after all, if I fail here, we can but look about for an opportunity of sending away our young lady quietly to Juliers."
After a space of some half an hour, which they spent in discussing their projects, Master Peter Deconinck, Dean or chief of the Guild of Clothworkers at Bruges, arrived, and was immediately introduced into Adolf's chamber.
A long gown or overcoat of brown woolen stuff covered him from neck to feet; and being totally without any kind of trimming or ornament, strikingly contrasted with the gay dresses of the nobles. It was easy to see that the Dean of the Clothworkers, in affecting this plainness of apparel, wished to make ostentatious display of his estate in life, and so to oppose pride to pride; for, in truth, this coarse woolen gown covered the most powerful man in Flanders. On his head he wore a flat cap, from under which his hair hung down half a foot long over his ears. A leathern belt drew in the wide folds of the gown about his body, and the hilt of a cross-handled knife glittered at his side. An excessive paleness, high cheek-bones, and a wrinkled forehead, threw an air of deep thought over his countenance; while the loss of an eye gave a somewhat unpleasing expression to his features. On common occasions there was nothing to distinguish him from ordinary men; but no sooner was he moved or interested than his glance became lively and penetrating; beams of intelligence and manly spirit shot from his remaining eye, and his bearing was proud and even imperious. On first entering the room, he cast a mistrustful glance on all present, especially Master Roger, in whom he at once perceived more of worldly craft than in the other two.
"Master Deconinck," commenced Adolf, "be pleased to draw near to me. I have something to ask of you that you must not refuse me, for I have no other hope but in you; only you must first give me your solemn assurance that you will never divulge to any human being that which I am about to communicate."
"The just dealings and good offices of the lords of Nieuwland are not yet forgotten by the Clothworkers," answered Deconinck; "and you, noble sir, may ever count upon me as your faithful servant. Nevertheless, sir, allow me first to warn you, that if what you have in hand is in any way contrary to the rights of the commons, you will do well to keep it to yourself, and tell me nothing of it."
"Since when, then," cried Adolf, somewhat sternly, "have the Nieuwlands touched you in your rights? Such language is injurious to my honor!"
"Forgive me, sir, if my words have offended you," replied the Dean ; "it is so hard to distinguish the evil from the good that one is obliged to mistrust all. Allow me to ask you only one question, the answer to which will remove all doubt from my mind at once; are you a Lilyard, noble sir?"
"A Lilyard!" cried Adolf, indignantly: "no, Master Deconinck! in my breast beats a heart that has nothing but abhorrence for our enemies; and the very scheme about which I wished to consult you is directed against them."
"Speak freely then, noble sir; I am at your service."
"Well, then; you know that our Count Guy is in prison, with all his faithful nobles; but there is still in Flanders one to whom all true Flemings owe their best and readiest aid—one who now needs it greatly because of her utter helplessness, and to whom it is due both on account of what she is, and of the sore trouble which oppresses her."
"You speak of the Lady Matilda, daughter of the Lord Robert de Bethune," observed Deconinck.
"How know you that?'' inquired Adolf, surprised.
"I know yet more, sir. The Lady Matilda was not brought to your house so privily, but that Deconinck knew it, nor could she have left it again unknown to me. But be not alarmed, for I can assure you that but few besides myself at Bruges are in the secret."
"You are a wonderful man. Master Deconinck. But now to the point. I feel that I may trust in your magnanimity to defend this young daughter of our Lion, if need be, against any violence from the French."
Sprung from among the people, Deconinck was one of those rare geniuses who come before the world from time to time as the leaders of their age and country. No sooner had years ripened his capacity than he called forth his brethren out of the bondage in which they slumbered, taught them to understand the power which lies in union, and rose up at their head against their tyrants. The latter now found it impossible to resist the awakened energies of their former slaves, whose hearts Deconinck had so roused and kindled by his eloquence that their necks would no longer bear the yoke. Yet sometimes the fortune of war would favor the nobles, and the people for a time submitted, while Deconinck seemed to have lost at once his eloquence and his sagacity. Nevertheless he slumbered not, but still worked upon the spirits of his comrades with secret exhortations, till a favorable moment came; then the commons rose again against their tyrants, and again broke their bonds. All the political machinations of the nobles vanished into smoke before the keen intellect of Deconinck, and they
