LYSBETH, H. RIDER HAGGARD [brene brown rising strong txt] 📗

the towpath, though now it was overgrown with weeds and rushes. It was not a pleasant journey, for the twilight had closed in with speed and the thick flakes, that seemed to heap into his face and sting him, turned it into a darkness mottled with faint white. Still he stumbled forward with bent head and close-wrapped cloak till he judged that he must be near to the mill, and halted staring through the gloom.

Just then the snow ceased for a while and light crept back to the cold face of the earth, showing Adrian that he had done well to halt. In front of where he stood, within a few paces of his feet indeed, for a distance of quite twenty yards the lower part of the bank had slipped away, washed from the stone core with which it was faced at this point, by a slow and neglected percolation of water. Had he walked on therefore, he would have fallen his own height or more into a slough of mud, whence he might, or might not have been able to extricate himself. As it was, however, by such light as remained he could crawl upon the coping of the stonework which was still held in place with old struts of timber that, until they had been denuded by the slow and constant leakage, were buried and supported in the vanished earthwork. It was not a pleasant bridge, for to the right lay the mud-bottomed gulf, and to the left, almost level with his feet, were the black and peaty waters of the rain-fed dyke pouring onwards to the sea.

"Next flood this will go," thought Adrian to himself, "and then the marsh must become a mere which will be bad for whomever happens to be living in the Red Mill." He was on firm ground again now, and there, looming tall and spectral against the gloom, not five hundred yards away, rose the gaunt sails of the mill. To reach it he walked on six score paces or more to the little landing-quay, where a raised path ran to the building. As he drew near to it he was astonished to hear the rattle of oars working in rollocks and a man's voice say:

"Steady, here is the place, praise the Saints! Now, then, out passengers and let us be gone."

Adrian, whom events had made timid, drew beneath the shadow of the bank and watched, while from the dim outline of the boat arose three figures, or rather two figures arose, dragging the third between them.

"Hold her," said a voice that seemed familiar, "while I give these men their hire," and there followed a noise of clinking coin, mingled with some oaths and grumbling about the weather and the distance, which were abated with more coin. Then again the oars rattled and the boat was pushed off, whereon a sweet voice cried in agonised tones:

"Sirs, you who have wives and daughters, will you leave me in the hands of these wretches? In the name of God take pity upon my helplessness."

"It is a shame, and she so fair a maid," grumbled another thick and raucous voice, but the steersman cried, "Mind your business, Marsh Jan. We have done our job and got our pay, so leave the gentry to settle their own love affairs. Good night to you, passengers; give way, give way," and the boat swung round and vanished into the gloom.

For a moment Adrian's heart stood still; then he sprang forward to see before him Hague Simon, the Butcher, Black Meg his wife, and between them a bundle wrapped in shawls.

"What is this?" he asked.

"You ought to know, Heer Adrian," answered Black Meg with a chuckle, "seeing that this charming piece of goods has been brought all the way from Leyden, regardless of expense, for your especial benefit."

The bundle lifted its head, and the faint light shone upon the white and terrified face of--Elsa Brant.

"May God reward you for this evil deed, Adrian, called van Goorl," said the pitiful voice.

"This deed! What deed?" he stammered in answer. "I know nothing of it, Elsa Brant."

"You know nothing of it? Yet it was done in your name, and you are here to receive me, who was kidnapped as I walked outside Leyden to be dragged hither with force by these monsters. Oh! have you no heart and no fear of judgment that you can speak thus?"

"Free her," roared Adrian, rushing at the Butcher to see a knife gleaming in his hand and another in that of Black Meg.

"Stop your nonsense, Master Adrian, and stand back. If you have anything to say, say it to your father, the Count. Come, let us pass, for we are cold and weary," and taking Elsa by the elbows they brushed past him, nor, indeed, even had he not been too bewildered to interfere, could Adrian have stayed them, for he was unarmed. Besides, where would be the use, seeing that the boat had gone and that they were alone on a winter's night in the wind-swept wilderness, with no refuge for miles save such as the mill house could afford. So Adrian bent his head, for the snow had begun to fall again, and, sick at heart, followed them along the path. Now he understood at length why they had come to the Red Mill.

Simon opened the door and entered, but Elsa hung back at its ill- omened threshold. She even tried to struggle a little, poor girl, whereon the ruffian in front jerked her towards him with an oath, so that she caught her foot and fell upon her face. This was too much for Adrian. Springing forward he struck the Butcher full in the mouth with his fist, and next moment they were rolling over and over each other upon the floor, struggling fiercely for the knife which Simon held.

During all her life Elsa never forgot that scene. Behind her the howling blackness of the night and the open door, through which flake by flake the snow leapt into the light. In front the large round room, fashioned from the basement of the mill, lit only by the great fire of turfs and a single horn lantern, hung from the ceiling that was ribbed with beams of black and massive oak. And there, in this forbidding, naked-looking place, that rocked and quivered as the gale caught the tall arms of the mill above, seated by the hearth in a rude chair of wood and sleeping, one man, Ramiro, the Spanish sleuth-hound, who had hunted down her father, he whom above every other she held in horror and in hate; and two, Adrian and the spy, at death-grips on the floor, between them the sheen of a naked knife.

Such was the picture.

Ramiro awoke at the noise, and there was fear on his face as though some ill dream lingered in his brain. Next instant he saw and understood.

"I will run the man through who strikes another blow," he said, in a cold clear voice as he drew his sword. "Stand up, you fools, and tell me what this means."

"It means that this brute beast but now threw Elsa Brant upon her face," gasped Adrian as he rose, "and I punished him."

"It is a lie," hissed the other; "I pulled the minx on, that is all, and so would you have done, if you had been cursed with such a wild- cat for four-and-twenty hours. Why, when we took her she was more trouble to hold than any man."

"Oh! I understand," interrupted Ramiro, who had recovered his composure; "a little maidenly reluctance, that is all, my worthy Simon, and as for this young gentleman, a little lover-like anxiety-- doubtless in bygone years you have felt the same," and he glanced mockingly at Black Meg. "So do not be too ready to take offence, good Simon. Youth will be youth."

"And Youth will get a knife between its ribs if it is not careful," grumbled Hague Simon, as he spat out a piece of broken tooth.

"Why am I brought here, Senor," broke in Elsa, "in defiance of laws and justice?"

"Laws! Mejufvrouw, I did not know that there were any left in the Netherlands; justice! well, all is fair in love and war, as any lady will admit. And the reason why--I think you must ask Adrian, he knows more about it than I do."

"He says that he knows nothing, Senor."

"Does he, the rogue? Does he indeed? Well, it would be rude to contradict him, wouldn't it, so I for one unreservedly accept his statement that he knows nothing, and I advise you to do the same. No, no, my boy, do not trouble to explain, we all quite understand. Now, my good dame," he went on addressing the serving-woman who had entered the place, "take this young lady to the best room you have above. And, listen, both of you, she is to be treated with all kindness, do you hear, for if any harm comes to her, either at your hands or her own, by Heaven! you shall pay for it to the last drop of your blood. Now, no excuses and--no mistakes."

The two women, Meg and the other, nodded and motioned to Elsa to accompany them. She considered a moment, looking first at Ramiro and next at Adrian. Then her head dropped upon her breast, and turning without a word she followed them up the creaking oaken stair that rose from a niche near the wall of the ingle-nook.

"Father," said Adrian when the massive door had closed behind her and they were left alone--"father--for I suppose that I must call you so."

"There is not the slightest necessity," broke in Ramiro; "facts, my dear son, need not always be paraded in the cold light of day-- fortunately. But, proceed."

"What does all this mean?"

"I wish I could tell you. It appears to mean, however, that without any effort upon your part, for you seem to me a young man singularly devoid of resource, your love affairs are prospering beyond expectation."

"I have had nothing to do with the business; I wash my hands of it."

"That is as well. Some sensitive people might think they need a deal of washing. You young fool," he went on, dropping his mocking manner, "listen to me. You are in love with this pink and white piece of goods, and I have brought her here for you to marry."

"And I refuse to marry her against her will."

"As to that you can please yourself. But somebody has got to marry her --you, or I."

"You--/you!/" gasped Adrian.

"Quite so. The adventure is not one, to be frank, that attracts me. At my age memories are sufficient. But material interests must be attended to, so if you decline--well, I am still eligible and hearty. Do you see the point?"

"No, what is it?"

"It is a sound title to the inheritance of the departed Hendrik Brant. That wealth we might, it is true, obtain by artifice or by arms; but how much better that it should come into the family in a regular fashion, thereby ousting the claim of the Crown. Things in this country are disturbed at present, but they will not always be disturbed, for in the end somebody must give way and order will prevail. Then questions might be asked, for persons in possession of great riches are always the mark of envy. But if the heiress is married to a good Catholic and loyal subject of the king, who can cavil at rights sanctified by the laws of God and man? Think it over, my dear Adrian, think it over. Step-mother or wife--you can take your choice."

With impotent rage, with turmoil of heart and torment of conscience, Adrian did think it over. All that night he thought, tossing on his rat-haunted pallet, while without the snow whirled and the wind beat. If he did not marry Elsa, his father would, and there could be no doubt as to which of these alternatives would be