The key of the Holy house; a romance of old Antwerp

Contents

CHAPTER PAGE

I. — What I found in the Nordenstrasse . . 1

II. — Midnight visitors 11

Chapter I. What I Found In The Nordenstrasse

The sun had gone down, and the streets of Antwerp were growing dark, so that it was necessary that the wayfarer went forward carefully, lest he should trip at some protruding doorstep, or fall over anyone who chanced to be idling outside one of the house windows, chatting perhaps, or — as was very possible — whispering secrets to a pretty girl inside. As a rule, however, there was little loitering out-of-doors after sunset; for, what with the prowling Spanish watchmen, who came out like noisome night-birds, and worse than these, the spies and informers of the Inquisition, on the lookout for victims, it was unsafe to be on the outer side of one’s street door.

That evening I sat in the room on the first floor, and, for want of better occupation just then, whiled away the time in listening to the passers-by, whose forms showed up indistinctly in the dim light which an occasional horn-lantern threw into the thoroughfare.

The Nordenstrasse, into which our sitting-room looked, was long and narrow — very much unlike the majority of the thoroughfares of the beautiful Flemish city we were all so proud of. These, generally speaking, were broad and handsome, and betokened almost unlimited wealth. My father, who was rich, had often been questioned as to why he did not bring his business into the broader ways, along which the majority of the people passed, and where he would have done a far greater trade. But he used to shake his head good-

THE KEY OF THE HOLY HOUSE.

humouredly, and say that he had a fancy for the old home where he was born, and where his father before him had first seen the light of day. And as for business being better, he cared but little, since he already had wealth sufficient.

The Nordenstrasse was certainly an old-fashioned street, compared to many others in Antwerp. The houses appeared to tumble together, the upper stories projecting over the shop beneath, so that as we sat in the window we could readily touch hands with those who lived in the house opposite, and could hold conversation with almost as much ease and privacy as if we were in the same apartment.

While I sat there, my father came into the room, followed by my mother — buxom, and fair to look upon, in spite of her constant assurance that since she was going on toward the age of fifty she was an old woman. And with them came my sister Gertrude, than whom — with a single exception — there was no one more beautiful in all the famous city of Antwerp; and that was saying a great deal. I could only see them indistinctly, for by this time the dim light hanging at the door of our neighbours opposite was all there was to dispel the darkness, and it was no more than sufficient to show that three persons were near at hand. Their voices, however, plainly told me who they were.

“ How dark it is, Caspar/’ said my sister. “ I will light the lamp.”

“Nay, let us sit here in the darkness a while,” exclaimed my father; and so saying, he sat down in the window with us.

What we talked about I cannot remember. I dare say that it was the old topic of conversation — the cruel and high-handed doings of the Spaniards. My father, who was speaking at the time, stopped abruptly, and we started to our feet with beating hearts ; for we heard a piercing scream in the street below.

Throwing open the window, and looking out, we saw a girl lying on the ground. About her stood three men clad in long black robes, while over their heads were drawn the cowls that completely hid their faces, but having eyelet holes, so that the wearers might see whither they were going, without being known. They were the dreaded Familiars of the Inquisition. Finding that the girl did not stir, one of them stooped and touched her. Then he looked up, and said something to his companions, whereupon a second one knelt beside the prostrate form. They gazed into her face, throwing the light of their lanterns on it, to see the more distinctly. One of them felt the girl’s pulse, and laid his hand upon her bosom, to discover whether her heart was beating. But the poor creature was dead. She had been walking along the streets in the darkness, after having been in hiding all the day, when suddenly a hand was laid upon her shoulder, heavy and menacing. She turned to see who had touched her, and when she saw the black forms of the dreaded Inquisitors, she gave one long, agonising cry, and fell senseless at their feet. Lancelot Bockholt, our opposite neighbour, told us this later on, for he had been standing at his door, looking about him idly.

None dared to say anything to the three who had dogged the maiden’s steps ; and those who were passing by, when they caught sight of the black-robed figures, hastened on with silent tread, and quickly-beating hearts, fearful lest, being robbed of their prey, these hungry vultures might claim them in the dead girl’s stead.

We stood speechless at the window, gazing down upon this too-familiar scene — my mother and sister with clasped hands, and tearful ; my father and I with an indignant helplessness, since the creatures of the Inquisition were sacred from all molestation. Two of the men spurned the dead body with their feet, and then the three passed on, doubtless in search for some other victim.

As they disappeared, the door of a house a little way down the street opened cautiously, and a woman came out. The moon had just emerged from behind a heavy cloud, and we could watch the new-comer’s movements.

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Running to the dead one, she threw herself beside the prostrate form, and wept passionately. But none of the passers-by ventured to help or comfort her. They went on with averted faces, and hurried tread. One could scarcely wonder at it. While full of sympathy, as I am sure they must have been, they were also moved to fear ; for sympathy with a heretic was adjudged rank heresy, and had often led the sympathisers to the rack.

“ It is Martha, the cordwainer’s widow, and that must be her daughter Mary,” said my father. “ Come, Caspar, let us go down, and helj} her to carry the poor girl to her home.”

I turned and followed, knowing full well that we were bent on doing a dangerous thing. But why should we hesitate ? Was the maiden to lie there the long night through? and but for our help she must have done so, for the widow was far too feeble to carry her to the house unaided. When we reached the street, we looked up and down, and finding it clear, went forward. My father stooped, and touched the weeping woman on the shoulder, to arouse her and offer our assistance. What he said I do not know, for, as I drew near, my foot kicked against something which, from my hurried movement, went several feet away. Wondering what it might be, I went after it, and picking it up, found that it was a small but heavy fold of paper. There was no time to examine it then, so I slipped it into my pocket, and returned to my father’s side.

“ Take the shoulders, my son, and I will take the feet,” said he ; and lifting the body gently, we carried it to the widow’s home.

“ God give thee consolation, friend Martha,” he said, as we laid the girl upon her bed ; but the poor woman could not be comforted.

While my father sought to console her, I drew out the package I had found in the street, and opened it. It contained a brass key, which, after glancing at it hastily, I thrust back again into my pocket. The paper I was about to crumple up in my hand, when, by the light of the lamp, I saw some handwriting. Taking it to the

WHAT I FOUND IN THE NORDENSTRASSE.

light, I read, and as I did so, my brain seemed to reel with horror. It was a list of names, seven in number, and all well known to me. Three merchants were therein described, and their dwelling-places indicated; a priest who officiated at the Cathedral; two women of the humbler order of society, one of whom was this dead girl; and last of all, Dorothy Fabry, the beautiful daughter of the Burgomaster of xAntwerp — the one of all the world whom I loved, beyond even my own life. In the margin some one had pencilled various remarks, and opposite Dorothy’s name were these words : —

“ At the Burgomaster s palace. She arrives there on the morning of Wednesday, at the hour of nine

This for a moment misled me; but for a moment only. I had that very afternoon seen her in her father’s garden, and she had come upon them laughingly, as her parents sat in the bower, startling them by her abrupt appearance.

“ Dorothy ! ” exclaimed her mother. “ How is it that you come hither now? We did not expect you until to-morrow.”

“ Nor did I expect to be here, my dear mother, but the winds were favourable, and we came into the harbour earlier than was thought for. Being impatient to be home after so long a stay, I got the master of the ship to send me by boat to the jetty, from whence I ran home at once, to give you a surprise.”

The next moment she had her arms about her mother’s neck, and was kissing her fondly, every kiss being begrudged by me, who did not yet know, except in fancy, how sweet those kisses were. Even her severelooking father came in for a share, which only served to make my longing all the greater.

“ The Inquisitors are after her ! ” I cried ; and without waiting to explain, I dashed out of the house, and took my way to the Burgomaster’s palace. As I turned the corner of the street, I almost ran into the arms of three black-robed Familiars, who were walking slowly, looking on the ground as they went, throwing the lantern-light around them, as if in search of something.

THE KEY OF THE HOLY HOUSE.

They were doubtless looking for the key that was in my own doublet, and the paper also.

They called on me to stop, but I hastened onwards, heedless of their challenge, and glad to think that in the darkness they could not see my face, or even discern my figure. How I blessed the fact that the clouds had rolled up to hide the moon, so that even the lynx-eyed Inquisitors could not know me ! Quickening my pace, if that were possible, I went along the tortuous and irregular streets, across the spacious, handsome squares, and round by the beautiful Cathedral, whose bells were chiming the hour of ten as I passed.

I hurried down a side lane to save time, but my way was barred by a clapers-mans — a Spanish watchman.

“ Halt ! ” he cried, when he saw me coming.

“ Get out of my way ! ” I shouted, in answer to his call.

But he stood there, huge and broad-shouldered, and waited to grapple with me.

“ Get out of my way ! ” I cried again ; but he refused to move.

“ Then take the consequences,” said I, and dashed full on him, crashing my fist into his face. He fell almost without a sound; but heedless as to whether he was dead or living, I ran on, and panting with my run, drew up at last outside the palace I was seeking.

Pulling the great bell violently, I awaited the opening of the door with impatience. It seemed to me as though the porter would never draw the final bolt, and I rang again, although I heard him shoot back first one and then the other.

“ How slow you are, Martin,” I cried, as the great door swung open at last.

“ Why, Master Ursuleus, what is the matter?” said the old man, astonished at my haste, and the disturbed look upon my face.

“ Where is the young Mistress Dorothy ? ” I asked, heedless of his inquiry.

“ With the Burgomaster and Mistress Fabry in the dining-hall,” he answered, closing and bolting the door while he did so. For even as I had spoken I had stepped over the threshold, and stood within the spacious hall.

Around me were suits of armour ranged along on every side, while on the walls were hung cuirasses and skull-caps of steel, lances, swords, battle-axes, and maces, all of which were massive, and spoke of the tierce energy with which the men of old did battle. But I had seen all these before, and had neither care nor time for them now. Being bent on something vastly more absorbing than these things, and without asking Martin to announce my arrival, I darted across the marble floor, turned round to a door beneath the great staircase, and knocking loudly, threw it open abruptly.

Those within looked up quickly, and with startled air, for in days when none knew how night would find them, anything that transpired out of the ordinary course was sufficient to set the heart beating wildly, and quaking with very fear.

They had all been seated at the table, the Burgomaster facing the door, and Dorothy and her mother on either side of the master of the household. But as they looked up they started to their feet, and gazed eagerly in my direction to discover who it was that disturbed them.

“ How now, Master Caspar ! ” cried Van der Fabry, with a touch of anger in his voice, when he saw who the intruder was. “ Why did you not suffer Martin to announce you in the usual way ? ”

“ Pardon me, Burgomaster/’ I answered, breathlessly, casting an anxious look at Dorothy, whose beautiful face had become pale with fear. “ I have brought news that more than makes amends for my apparent rudeness.” And drawing forth the paper I had picked up in the Nordenstrasse, I laid it on the table, and told my story.

Even the strong-willed, stern-visaged Burgomaster trembled as he heard my words, and the perspiration stood upon his brow when, taking up the fatal paper of the Inquisitors, he saw his daughter’s name written thereon.

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“ God spare ns ! ” he cried, as the crumpled sheet fell from his fingers to the floor; then, burying his face in his hands, he struggled to become calm.

I looked on in silent sympathy, and while I did so, Dorothy, who was standing near me, stole her hand in mine, and her eyes did for her what her voice refused to do — appealed to me to do something to save her.

“Van der Fabry,” I said, in quick response to this mute pleading, “ I do not think that anyone can know that Dorothy has come home. Let me take her to my father’s house, where her presence will be unsuspected. From thence, if needs be, we can remove her to a still safer spot.”

“ Yes, father, let me go to Caspar’s house,” said Dorothy. “ I shall have his mother’s care, and Gertrude’s companionship. It is night, and none will see me on the way thither.”

“ Then go, my child,” said the Burgomaster. “ Take off that gay dress, and put on one of darker colour. Or, what is quite as well, throw a dark cloak around you, and go in God’s name. For if I lost my darling daughter, I should almost pray to die.”

It was not often that Van der Fahrv showed emotion. He was one of those hard men who judged such a thing unworthy of a man, and betokening weakness. Yever had I seen anything like softness in his face, save when he spoke to his child, and then he suffered his features to relax into what one might call a smile. But never for more than a moment or two. It was, as it were, but a flash, and then it was gone. This time, however, he was touched to the very quick, and when he looked up, I saw that his face was pale, and his eyes were dim with tears.

Dorothy left the room to prepare herself for flight, and after a few minutes’ absence returned, nothing showing out of the black wrappings but her beautiful face.

“Good-bye, dear ones,” she exclaimed, her eyes overflowing with tears as she kissed her parents. “ I thought it so delightful to come home to you, but now I must needs go again.”

She said no more, for other words were impossible. All that she could do, as she drew her arms from around her mother’s neck, was to take my hand in hers, and wait for me to lead her away.

Passing into the hall, we came to the door, but Martin, who had had it open, ready for us to go out into the night, was hastily closing it.

“ Go back ! go back ! ” he exclaimed, hoarsely. “ The accursed Familiars are coming down the street. Go some other way ! ”

“ Cross the garden, and go out by the wicket-gate, and along the Westernstrasse,” cried the Burgomaster; and turning back, he led the way through an open door, and across the greensward where, many a time, I had walked and talked and played, when Dorothy and I were children. The garden was not a large one, and we were soon at the wicket-gate. When we reached it, and Dorothy’s father flung it open, the great bell in the hall rang out a loud and noisy summons.

“ They have come ! Go back, father, and tell them I am not here,” said the maiden, as she gave her father one more kiss, and hurried out into the dark lane, made darker by the trees that lined it.

“ Good-bye, my daughter, the Lord go with you ! ” said the Burgomaster, as he quietly closed the gate, and returned to receive these late and unwelcome visitors.

There had been tokens of a coming storm when I entered Van der Fabry’s palace. Some big drops of rain splashed upon the stones, and the black clouds drew together into one great heavy canopy, which shrouded the whole city in complete darkness. It had only been possible for Martin to see the three black forms approaching, by means of the lanterns that swung at some of the doorways in the street. Here, in the lane into which the garden-gate opened, the darkness was so dense that we could take our way in safety. The rain was falling in torrents, and the wind, which had risen suddenly, was in our faces.

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“ I must take your hand, Caspar/’ said Dorothy, who, with a resoluteness that filled me with admiration, threw aside all weeping, and bent her whole soul on the effort to escape.

“ Yes, dear one,” I answered, heedless as to whether she would resent such a familiarity. And taking her hand we went on as quickly as the storm would suffer us. More than once we had to draw into a doorway to gain our breath, and that done, we set forth again.

“ Who goes there ? ” cried a watchman, as we crossed the Beguinstrasse at a run.

“ A friend,” I shouted in return, but at the same time putting my hand to my sword, and loosening it in its scabbard, in case it should be needed. For on this I was resolved, that rather than be turned aside from taking the maiden who was with me into safety, I would even dare to withstand this well-armed representative of our oppressors. But the man was too intent on finding shelter to question us further, and suffered us to go in peace.

Ere long we were at home, where I told the story, and left my mother and sister to look after the comfort of the Burgomaster’s daughter.

Chapter II. Midnight Visitors

It seemed sheer waste of time to lie in bed, for sleep had entirely deserted me that night. The events of the past few hours had been so exciting that I could not calm myself down, however much I tried, and my brain was busy with plans for getting Dorothy away. The fear rode uppermost that the Familiars of the Inquisition would discover her hiding-place, for they appeared to me to be ubiquitous, and no corner, however dark, was out of reach of their piercing eyes. So far as I knew, no one had seen us go out of the wicket-gate from Van der Fabry’s garden, and as for entry into my father’s house, we had looked up and down the street most carefully. I had even thrust my sword into every doorway to make sure that no one was in hiding to watch for my return. I was justified in the thought that there was small chance of this, seeing that none had known of my whereabouts after leaving the house of the cordwainer’s widow.

But a disturbed mind in such perilous times is very much like a guilty conscience — that is to say, it needs little to make one thoroughly anxious and sick at heart. I began to think that there was the bare possibility that the Familiars had tracked me to the Burgomaster’s palace, had guessed my hasty errand, had followed me swiftly, and finding Dorothy and myself gone when they got to Van der Fabry’s home, guessed that I had taken her to my. father’s dwelling, under cover of the stormy night. At any moment there might come the fatal

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summons at the door, although my father had the reputation of being a good Catholic.

Unable to lie still any longer, I sprang from my bed and dressed, sitting down in the darkness after that was done, and gazing into the street. Then I found myself listening intently, as if in expectation of hearing the tread of the Familiars. But the night was wild, and all that one could hear was the soughing of the wind as it went along, and the rain as it pelted fiercely against the window-panes. To be alone under such circumstances was misery, for imagination ran riot, and drew ghastly pictures of awful possibilities. It was as real to me, as I looked into the dark room, as though I actually saw the torture-chamber itself; and the victim was the maiden I loved as I loved my very life. My feelings were so wrought upon that the perspiration started from every pore. I think my hair stood on end.

With such dark thoughts as these for my companions, I felt that I should go mad if I stayed alone any longer. Opening the door, intending to cross the landing, and ascend the stairs to my parents 7 room, I heard stealthy footsteps, and looking before me, saw something that filled my soul with horror. I stood in the darkness, so that none could see me, but coming up the stairs were three black forms, with hooded faces, and each one carried a lantern.

“ Great God ! The Familiars ! Oh, what shall I do ? 77 I exclaimed, with bated breath.

How swiftly one’s thoughts come in times of peril, all can tell, who have known what danger is. One hears of the rushing by of a whole life’s pictures, even in a moment, when face to face with violent death ; and in such an instant one can plan his actions, since time appears to have stood still. In the brief period of waiting I formed a desperate resolution, and darting back to my bedside, snatched up the sword which, happily, I knew so well how to use. Dorothv should not die, cost what it might to save her !

Going along the passage swiftly, I met the intruders at the top of the stairs.

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“ What do you here ? ” I asked, in a low voice, and halting before them. There was little reason to fear that anyone in the house would hear them, if they would speak quietly, for my room was on the floor above the shop, and all the other bed-chambers were at the top of the dwelling.

The men looked at me, and scrutinised my face by the aid of the lights they carried.

“ We want Mistress Dorothy Fabry, and the man who aided her in escaping from her father’s house,” said one.

“ I am the man,” I answered, quietly, with a strange tremor through my frame. “ Follow me, if you would find the maiden.” And passing by them on the stairs, I descended, while they turned and came after me, with that stealthy tread that had become a kind of second nature to them.

By one of those strange providences that often come to our aid, a way was opened for me in dealing with these deadly and never-satisfied night-birds; and, as I trod the streets, silently followed by the Familiars, I blessed God for the happy chance. Yet, that they should not think me too pliant, and so suspect me, I halted presently.

“ Will you be content with me alone, and let the maiden go ? ” I asked.

“ Pass on in silence,” responded one. “ Take us to her, or it will be worse for you and yours.”

“ What ! ” I exclaimed, in an angry tone ; “ do you threaten me ? ”

“ Proceed,” was the laconic rejoinder.

I had done enough to remove suspicion, and they came after me when I led the way.

“ I must needs take you to a ship in the harbour, if you are resolute to find her,” I said, as we drew near to the quay.

“ That matters not. If we do not find her, the lives of those at home, and your own life also, are forfeit.”

“ What ! The lives of my parents and sister, who are all good Catholics ? ” I cried, in feigned surprise. For

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now that the first sense of horror had passed, and I had calmly thought out my plan, I was free to speak.

“ That is our concern. Proceed.”

Without another word I went forward, and after passing boat-builders’ yards, rope-walks, smitheries, and sail-lofts, we came to the quay-side. I would have left the men for a moment, but they would not suffer me to pass out of their reach, and followed me down the steps of the jetty, where I found a boat. Stepping in, I sat down, and while I was placing the oars in the rowlocks the Inquisitors took their seats in silence.

With all the calmness I could summon, I spoke again :

“ Once more I ask you — Will you not be content with me alone, and let the maiden go ? ”

“ Take us to her, or it will be worse for you and yours,” responded the spokesman, as before, but with still more ominous tone.

My heart began to beat with gladness as I plied the oars, and drew the boat away. The waters were rough, and the wind was strong ; but I was stalwart, and made light of any little extra toil, so long as I could save Dorothy. All around were the merchant vessels that had come to port, some ranged along the quay, others out in mid-harbour. The lights of lanterns at the bows and sterns, casting long and broken lines on the waters of the Scheldt, came from every quarter, only, however, serving to show how dense the surrounding darkness was. For nothing could be seen in that black night ; not even the forms of the great hulks that rode lazily at their moorings.

But I knew where I wanted to go, and pulled with good will. After a time we ran in under the stern of a ship, and by the aid of the lantern, which was swinging there, I saw that good fortune favoured me. Backing the boat before my dread companions had time to read the name of the vessel, I shipped oars, and drew along the side with the boathook, until we got to the ladder that was hanging over.

“Go up, my masters,” said I, as I held on to a rope.

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“ I will go first,” said he, who had been spokesman so far. “ Then, Master Ursnleus, do yon follow. My companions will bring np the rear.”

I saw what that meant, and I smiled to myself, although I made some pretence at objection. They feared that if they left me in the boat I might row away, and so escape them.

“ As you will, then,” was my answer.

Slowly and deliberated we mounted, the Familiar before me going with wary step, for he was plainly no seaman ; and in a minute or two he and I stood on the deck. A man came up at once with a challenge, but I hastened to meet him, and whispered a caution, and by the time I had done so the other two were at the first Familiar’s side.