By Pike and Dyke: a Tale of the Rise of the Dutch Republic by G. A. Henty (easy novels to read TXT) 📗

"I mean simply this," Ned replied. "That I am the bearer of an order of the Council for your arrest, and that of your wife, your son Ernest, and your daughter Mary, upon the charge of having been present and taken part in a meeting of the people of this town at which words of treasonable character were uttered. Moreover, there is a note at the bottom of this order saying that these charges have been proved to the satisfaction of the Council, and that you are accordingly to be executed upon your arrival at Antwerp, the necessary orders having been transmitted to the governor of the prison there."

The manufacturer sank down in a chair the picture of terror.

"I have done no harm," he stammered. "I knew not when I went to the meeting what was going to be said there."

"What matters that?" Ned asked. "You have been tried and condemned, and one or other of the Council has doubtless obtained the grant of your property. Well, sir, I will not frighten you longer. This is the document in question, but fortunately I am not the person charged with this execution. I met him on the way and there was a disagreement between us, and the result is that he will execute no more orders, and his papers fell into my hands. It may be some days before he is missed, and then doubtless someone else will be charged to carry out the orders of which he was the bearer. This will give you time to make preparations for flight, and I should advise you before eight-and-forty hours are over to be on your way towards the frontier of Germany, or on board a ship at one of the ports. I will hand you this document in order that you may convince your wife and family of the danger that you are all running, and of the urgent need of haste."

Ned left at once, before the man, who was almost stupefied by the misfortune that had befallen him, had time to utter his thanks. He then called on the other two men against whom he bore orders of arrest. As both received him with greater courtesy than that shown by the first he had visited, he broke the news more gently to them, and discussed with them the manner in which they had best make their escape. One he found had friends and business connections in Sluys, and doubted not that he could obtain a passage there to Holland or England, while the other had similar connections in Axel.

Ned handed over to them the orders for the arrest of burghers of those towns, and these they gave him their promise to deliver, and also either to see or to send letters warning all the persons who were mentioned in the list of suspected. As he was anxious to get on as soon as possible he also gave them the list of the suspected at St. Nicholas, and these they promised also to warn; both were profuse in their gratitude to him for having saved them from certain death. Having thus concluded his business, Ned again mounted his horse and rode for Bergen op Zoom, the port at which he intended, if possible, to embark for Zeeland.

Bergen op Zoom, an important town, lay half a mile distant from the Scheldt, and was connected with the river by a channel guarded by two forts. There had been a strong Spanish garrison here, but it had lately been weakened by the withdrawal of a large detachment to take part in the successful enterprise undertaken for the relief of Tergoes in the Island of Beveland, which was besieged by a force from Flushing. Ned had frequently been at Bergen op Zoom in the Good Venture, and knew that while the magistrates and wealthier citizens were devoted to the Spanish cause the greater portion of the inhabitants, especially the seafaring class, were patriots to a man.

He therefore went to a small inn by the waterside, where he had several times taken meals with his father when the ship was lying off from the river. Seeing his horse put up in the stable he entered the tap room. The sailors drinking there looked somewhat surprised at the entrance of one differing much in appearance from the ordinary customers of the place. The landlord, who was leaning against his counter, did not advance to meet him; for strangers were by no means popular, and a suspicion that the newcomer was a spy would speedily empty his house. As Ned approached him he suddenly started, and was about to speak when the lad quickly placed his finger on his lip. He feared that the landlord was about to utter his name, and there might, for aught he knew, be someone there who would report it.

"How are you, landlord?" he said. "It is some time since I was here last, and I think you had almost forgotten me." The landlord took the hint.

"Yes, indeed," he said. "And how is your father? I have not seen him lately, and heard that he was not well."

"No; he has been laid up for some time, but he is mending. You see I have taken service."

"Ah, I see," the landlord said. "Well, my good wife will be glad to see you and hear about your family." So saying he led the way into a private room.

"Why, what means this, Master Martin?" he asked. "We heard here of the brave fight your father's ship made some two months since with a Spaniard in the Zuider Zee, and that he was sorely wounded. But what means this masquerading? Surely you have not given up the sea?"

"Only for the present," Ned replied. "You know I am Dutch on my mother's side. All her family have been murdered by the Spaniards, and what with that and my father being attacked and wounded, I made up my mind to give up the sea for a time, and to help the good cause as much as I could. I have been carrying a message to Brussels and want now to get back to Rotterdam or some other sea port town. How had I best do it?"

"It is not easy," the landlord replied. "Our trade is stopped here now. The rivers swarm with craft, manned, some by the beggars of the sea, and others by fishermen; and the Spanish ships cannot come up save in great force. We have two or three of their warships here which go out and skirmish with our men, and do not always get the best of it.

"Our people did badly the other night when they let the Spaniards wade across to Tergoes. That was a bad business. But about your getting away. Let me see how it can be managed."

"I have got a horse here."

"That is bad," the landlord said. "You could put on sailor's clothes, and in the morning when I send in my guest list to the magistrate, I could put down that you had gone, but the horse would betray me. Is it a good beast?"

"Yes, it is a very good horse. It was a present to me, and I don't like parting with it. But of course I cannot take it away."

"I will send round word to a man I know who deals in horses. He is one who will hold his tongue, especially when he sees an advantage in it. I will tell him it belonged to a man who has been here and gone away suddenly, and ask him what he will give for it, and take it quietly away after it gets dark to his own stables, and ask no questions about it. He will guess it belonged to somebody who has left secretly. Of course he won't give more than half the value of the animal; but I suppose you will not be particular about terms. Anyhow, I will do the best I can for you. When he is once out of the stables they may come and question as much as they like, but they will get nothing out of me beyond the fact that a young man came here, put up his horse, stayed the night, and left in the morning. I suppose they have no special interest in you so as to lead them to make a close inquiry?"

"None at all," Ned replied.

"That is settled then," the landlord said. "Now, as to yourself. Two of my sons are at sea, you know, and I can rig you up with some of their clothes so that you can stroll about on the wharves, and no one will suspect you of being anything but a fisherman. Then I will try and arrange with some of the sailors to take you down in a boat at night, and either put you on board the first of our craft they come upon, or land you at Flushing. Now I will take you in to my wife, and she will see about getting you a meal and making you comfortable."

Later on the landlord came in and said that he had made a bargain for the horse.

"The beast is worth thirty crowns," he said, "but he will not give more than fifteen, and it required a good deal of bargaining to raise him to that. Of course he suspected that there was something out of the way about the affair, and took advantage of it."

"That will do very well indeed," Ned said. "I did not expect to get anything for it."

"I have been having a talk too with some sailors belonging to a small craft lying at the wharf. They are most anxious to be off, for they are idle. The order that no boats were to leave was issued just after they came in. They have been six days doing nothing, and may, for aught they see, be kept here for another six months. They have been afraid to try to get away; for there are sentries all along the wall to see that none try to put out, and some guard boats from the Spanish ships rowing backwards and forwards outside the port, both to see that no ships leave, and that none come up to harm the shipping. Still they say they have been making up their minds that they may as well stand the risk of being shot by the Spaniards as the certainty of being starved here; besides they are patriots, and know that their boats may be wanted at any time for the conveyance of troops. So when I told them that I doubted not that you would pay them well for landing you at Flushing, they agreed to make the attempt, and will try tonight. As soon as you have had your breakfast you had better join them in the tap room, go out with them through the watergate, and get on board their craft and lie snug there till night."

"How many men are there?" Ned asked.

"There are six altogether, but only two will be up here presently. Here are the fifteen crowns for your horse. That will do well to pay your passage to Flushing."

As soon as he had eaten his breakfast, Ned, now dressed as a young fisherman, went into the taproom with the landlord. Two sailors were sitting there.

"This is the young fellow that I was speaking to you about," the landlord said. "He is one of us, and heart and soul in the cause, and young though he looks has done good service. He is ready to pay you fifteen crowns when you land him at Flushing."

"That is a bargain," one of the men said, "and will pay us for the week we have lost here. I should take you for a sailor, young sir."

"I am