"Let me pass. Master Peter. I pray you, let me go out; you keep me on the rack."
"Not so. Master Jan. Think you that you are your own property, and may risk your life at pleasure? No, no, master; God has given you your great gifts for nobler ends than that. Remember your high calling, master; think of your country, and of the service you may do her. How shall you aid and save her if now you fling away your life upon a useless vengeance?"
While Deconinck was speaking, Breydel had gradually cooled down, and now answered in a calmer tone:
"You are right, my friend," he said; "I am too easily carried away. There, now, see my ax is hung up in its place again. You can let me out now; for to-day I must to Thourout to buy cattle."
"Well, I will keep you no longer; though I know well enough that it is not to Thourout you are going to-day."
"Indeed, what I tell you is true, master; I haven't a hoof left, and I must provide myself a fresh supply this very day."
"You can not pass that off upon me. Master Jan. I have known you too long, and I can see into your soul through your eyes: you are going to Male."
"You are certainly a conjurer, Master Peter; I believe you know my thoughts better than I do myself. Yes, I am going to Male; but I give you my word it is only to reconnoitre, and if possible to procure some intelligence of our unfortunate princess. I promise you to put ofif the reckoning till a more convenient season; but I warrant you they shall pay with interest when they do pay, or my name is not Jan Breydel."
The two deans now went out together, and parted, after exchanging a few more words, in the street. Breydel started off without delay, and a rapid walk of half an hour brought him to the village of Male, which at this time consisted of some thirty thatched cottages, scattered here and there in the immediate neighborhood of the castle. All around stretched away impenetrable forests, amid which the industry of the villagers had cleared an open space of cultivated fields. To judge by the fertility of the soil and abundance of the harvests, the peasantry should have been rich and prosperous—a supposition, however, which was strangely belied by their dress and general appearance, which in all respects bespoke the deepest poverty. Slavery and despotism had borne their fruits. The peasant did not labor for himself; all belonged to his feudal lord; and he thought himself fortunate if, after payment of all exactions, he could, by unremitting exertion, secure for himself even the barest maintenance.
At some little distance from the castle was an open space, round which stood a few houses of stone, built somewhat closer together than the rest; in the middle rose a tall stone pillar, to which was attached a chain with an iron collar, in fact, a kind of pillory, which betokened the criminal jurisdiction possessed by the lord. On one side was a small chapel, the wall of its churchyard encroaching a few paces upon the square. Adjoining the chapel stood a tolerably lofty house, the only place of public entertainment which the village boasted. A stone image of St. Martin above the door served for a sign; but so rudely chiseled that its representation of a human figure might be regarded as purely conventional. The whole ground-floor was occupied by a single apartment, one end of which was almost entirely taken up by a projecting fireplace, so disproportionately wide that it left only a recess at either end used as a drying-place for herbs and roots. The other walls were whitewashed, and hung all over with various cooking utensils in wood and pewter: a halberd, and several large knives in leathern sheaths, occupied a place apart. The whole aspect of the place was gloomy in the extreme. The rafters overhead were black with smoke, and a perpetual twilight reigned even when, as now, the sun shone brightly without; for but few of his rays were admitted by the small panes of the windows, which, moreover, were raised full seven feet above the floor. Some heavy wooden seats and still heavier chairs completed the furnishing of the room.
The hostess ran hither and thither hastily waiting upon her guests, who, at the time, happened to be unusually numerous. Flagons and beakers went their round incessantly, and the merriment of the revelers blended into one confused hubbub of voices, in which not one intelligible word could be distinguished. It was easy enough, however, to perceive that the result was not perfectly homogeneous, and that two distinct and different tongues combined together to produce it. From about the fireplace might be heard the manly and vigorous tones of the Flemish, while in the more polished and softer accents which sounded from the body of the apartment might be recognized the language of France. Among those who spoke in the foreign tongue, and belonged to the garrison of the castle, the principal leader was one Leroux, at least such he seemed to be, by the authoritative tone in which he spoke, and the air of superiority which he assumed. He was, moreover, but a simple man-atarms, like the rest; it was only his extraordinary strength and lofty stature, and his readiness to profit by those advantages, which had procured him this kind of preeminence among his fellows of the garrison.
While the Frenchmen were thus lustily addressing themselves to their flagons, and merry jests and jovial shouts went freely round, another soldier of the garrison entered the room.
"Good news, comrades!" said he; "we shall
