By Pike and Dyke Part 17

"My friends," he said, "do you want to earn a few crowns?"

"That would we right gladly," one of them replied, "seeing that His Gracious Majesty has forgotten to pay us for well nigh a year."

"There is a hang dog villain with a squint, in a russet cloak and doublet, just behind me." Ned said. "I have had dealings with him, and know him and his master to be villains. He claims that I am in debt to his master, and it may be that it is true; but I have particular reasons for objecting to be laid by the heels for it just now."

"That is natural enough," the soldier said. "I have experienced the same unpleasantness, and can feel for you."

"See here, then," Ned said. "Here are ten crowns, which is two apiece for you. Now, I want you to hustle against that fellow, pick a quarrel with him and charge him with a.s.saulting you, and drag him away to the guard house. Give him a slap on the mouth if he cries out, and throw him into a cell, and let him cool his heels there till morning. That will give me time to finish my business and be off again into the country."

"That can be managed easily enough," the soldier said with a laugh. "He is an ill favoured looking varlet; and is, I doubt not, a pestilent heretic. It would be a pleasure to cuff him even without your honor's crowns."

"Here is the money, then," Ned said; "but, above all, as I have said, do not let him talk or cry out or make a tumult. Nip him tightly by the neck."

"We know our business," the soldier said. "You can rely on us to manage your affair."

Ned sauntered quietly on. In a minute or two he heard a loud and sudden altercation, then there was the sound of blows, and looking round he saw two of the soldiers shaking Genet violently. The man endeavoured to shout to the crowd; but one of the soldiers smote him heavily on the mouth, and then surrounding him they dragged him away. "That is very satisfactorily done," Ned said to himself, "and it is by no means likely that Master Genet will get a hearing before tomorrow morning. He will be pushed into a cell in the guard room on the charge of brawling and insolence, and it is not probable that anyone will go near him till the morning. I certainly should like to peep in and have a look at him. His rage would be good to see; and he has been instrumental in sending such hundreds of men to prison that one would like to see how he feels now that it is his turn. Still I must not count too surely upon having time. He may possibly find some officers who will listen to his tale, although I do not think he is likely to do that; but still it would be foolish to risk it, and I will mount my horse and ride on at once."

The ostler was somewhat surprised when Ned told him that he had changed his mind, and that, instead of remaining for the night at Antwerp, he should ride forward at once. As Ned paid him handsomely for the feed the horse had had he made no remark, and Ned mounted and rode out through the town by the gate through which he had entered. Then he made a wide detour round the town, and rode on along the bank of the river until he came to a ferry. Here he crossed, and then rode on until he reached a village, where he resolved to stop the night, being now off the main roads, and therefore fairly safe from pursuit, even should Genet be able to satisfy his captors that a mistake had been made, and that those who captured him had in fact been aiding a fugitive to escape from justice.

The host of the little inn apologized for the poor fare that was set before him, on the ground of the exactions of the soldiers. "One can scarcely call one's life one's own," he grumbled. "A body of them rode into the village yesterday and stripped it clear of everything, maltreating all who ventured even to remonstrate. They came from Antwerp, I believe; but there is no saying, and even if we knew them it would be useless to make complaints."

Ned a.s.sured his host that he was very indifferent in the matter of food.

"In these days," he said, "if one can get a piece of bread one may think one's self lucky. But you have, I hope, sufficient forage for my horse."

"Yes," the landlord replied; "their horses ate as much as they could, but they could not carry off my supply of corn. Indeed the horses were pretty well laden as it was with ducks and geese. I let them have as much wine as they could drink, and of the best, so they did not trouble to go down into the cellar. If they had they would likely enough have broached all the casks and let the wine run. There is nothing that these fellows are not capable of; they seem to do mischief out of pure devilment."

Ned had scarcely finished his meal when a tramping of horses was heard outside.

"The saints protect us!" the landlord exclaimed. "Here are either these fellows coming back again, or another set doubtless just as bad."

A minute later the door opened and a party of a dozen soldiers entered.

"Wine, landlord! and your best!" a sergeant said. "Some comrades who called here yesterday told us that your tap was good, so we have ridden over to give you a turn."

The landlord groaned.

"Gracious, sirs," he said, "I am but a poor man, and your comrades on parting forgot to settle for their wine. Another two or three visits, and I am ruined."

A volley of impatient oaths at once broke out, and without further hesitation the terrified landlord hurried away, and returned loaded with flasks of wine, upon which the soldiers were speedily engaged.

"And who may you be, young sir?" one of them asked Ned, who was sitting at a small table apart from the rest.

"I am simply a traveller," Ned replied, "engaged upon my master's business."

"You are a likely looking young fellow too," the soldier said, "and would have made a good soldier if you had had the chance, instead of jogging about doing your lord's bidding; but I warrant me you are no better than the rest of your countrymen, and do not know one end of a sword from the other."

"I am not skilled in arms," Ned replied, "though my experience goes a little further than you say; but as you gentlemen protect the Netherlands, and we have no army of our own, I have not had the opportunity, even had I wished it, to become a soldier."

"Move over here," the soldier said, "and join us in a cup to the honour of Philip and confusion to the Prince of Orange and all traitors."

"I will join you in drinking to Philip, for in truth he is a great monarch and a powerful, and I will also drink to the confusion of all traitors whomsoever they may be."

"You are all traitors at heart," one of the Spaniards who had not before spoken, put in. "There is not a native of the Netherlands but would rise against us tomorrow."

"I think that is true speaking," said Ned quietly. "There are many traitors in the Netherlands I grant you, but there are others to whom your words can hardly apply."

"They are all the same," the soldier said angrily. "Knaves every one of them. However, before we have done with them we will reduce their number."

Ned did not reply; but having drank the gla.s.s of wine, returned to his seat, and shortly afterwards, when the soldiers began to quarrel among themselves, slipped from the room. The landlord was outside, pacing anxiously up and down.

"Are there any more of them in the village?" Ned asked.

"Not that I know of," he answered; "and to me it makes no difference. They will stay here swilling my wine all night, and in the morning like enough will set fire to my house before they ride away. I have just sent off my wife and daughters to be out of their reach. As for myself, I am half minded to mix poison with their wine and finish with them."

"That would only bring down vengeance upon yourself," Ned said. "Some would probably escape and tell the tale. At any rate, as there are so large a number there would be sure to be inquiry when they were found to be missing, and no doubt they mentioned to some of their friends before they started where they were coming to, and inquiry would be made. You could never get rid of all their bodies. Besides, doubtless others in the village heard them ride up, and know that they have been here; so you could not escape detection. It is better to put up with them."

"Yes, if there were only these fellows; but you will see that another party will come, and another, until I am entirely ruined."

"If you think that, I would in the morning shut up my house and depart, and not return until these troubles are over."

"And then come back and find my house burned down," the innkeeper groaned.

"Better that than to see yourself gradually ruined, and perhaps lose your life," Ned said.

"There is nowhere to go to," the innkeeper said with a shake of his head.

"You might do as many others have done," Ned replied, "and go to Holland, where at least you would be safe."

"But not for long," the man said. "The army will soon be on the march in that direction, and my fate there would be worse than here. Here I am only an innkeeper to be fleeced; there I should be regarded as a heretic to be burnt. Listen to them. They are fighting now. Do you hear my mugs cras.h.i.+ng? I only hope that they will kill each other to the last man. I should advise you, sir, to be off at once. They may take it into their heads that you are some one it behooves them to slay, it matters not whom; and you would certainly get no sleep here tonight if you stay."

"That is true enough," Ned agreed; "and perhaps it would be the best way for me to get on horseback again, but I know not the road, and might likely enough miss it altogether, and drown myself in one of your ditches."

"I will send my boy with you to put you on to the road," the landlord said. "I sent him out to sleep in the stables, so as to be out of the way of these desperadoes. He will walk beside your horse until you get into the main road."

Ned willingly accepted the proposal, for indeed he felt that there might be danger in remaining in the house with these drunken soldiers. He accordingly paid his reckoning, and was soon on horseback again, with the landlord's son, a boy of some ten years old, walking beside him. In half an hour they came upon a broad road.

"This," the lad said, "will take you to St. Nicholas."

Ned gave the boy a crown for his trouble, and rode slowly along. He had no idea of entering St. Nicholas, for it was now nigh eleven o'clock at night, and the arrival of a traveller at such an hour would be sure to attract attention. The night, too, was dark, and he could scarce see the road he was following. After thinking it over for some time he dismounted, led his horse a distance from the road, fastened the reins to a bush, and threw himself down on the ground to wait for daylight. The night was cold, and a fine rain was falling. Ned got up from time to time and walked about to keep himself warm, and was heartily glad when he saw the first rays of daylight in the east.

After waiting for half an hour he mounted, and after riding a few miles entered a large village. Thinking that it would be safer than at St. Nicholas, he halted here. It was still raining, and the drenched state of his clothes therefore excited no comment beyond the host's remark, "You must have started early to have got so wet?"

"Yes," he said, "I was up before daylight. I have a change of clothes in my saddlebag, and shall be glad to put them on. Will you order your man to give my horse a good rub down, and let him have a hot mash. How far am I from Ghent now?"

"If you have come from Antwerp, sir, you have come just halfway."

Ned changed his clothes and had some breakfast, and then as he sat by the fire the feeling of warmth and comfort after his long and cold night overpowered him, and he went fast to sleep.