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Updated: June 4, 2025
But I up and told him nay; 'twas neither demoiselle nor dame that penned yon lie, but Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, and those foul knaves, Cornelis and Sybrandt; these changed the true letter for one of their own; I told him as how I saw the whole villainy done through a chink; and now, if I have not been and told you!" "Oh, cruel! cruel! But he lives. The fear of fears is gone. Thank God!"
It struck him, too, as no small coincidence that his patron, St. Bavon, was a hermit, and an austere one, a cuirassier of the solitary cell. As soon as he was reconciled to Ghysbrecht Van Swieten, he went eagerly to his abode, praying Heaven it might not have been already occupied in these three days. The fear was not vain; these famous dens never wanted a human tenant long.
His hands trembled and his face shone. He threw out parchment after parchment, and Jorian dusted them and cleared them and shook them. Now, when Ghysbrecht had thrown out a great many, his face began to darken and lengthen, and when he came to the last, he put his hands to his temples and seemed to be all amazed. "What mystery lies here?" he gasped. "Are fiends mocking me? Dig deeper!
"No, no!" said the burgomaster; "it is nearer home, and nobody is dead or dying, old friend." "God bless you, burgomaster! Ah! something has gone off my breast that was like to choke me. Now, what is the matter?" Ghysbrecht then told him all that he told the women, and showed the picture in evidence. "Is that all?" said Eli, profoundly relieved. "What are ye roaring and bellowing for?
"Ghysbrecht," said Margaret, weeping, "since he hath forgiven thee, I forgive thee too: what is done, is done; and thou hast let me know this day that which I had walked the world to hear. But oh, burgomaster, thou art an understanding man, now help a poor woman, which hath forgiven thee her misery."
When the young man put that interpretation on Ghysbrecht's strange and meaning look, Margaret was greatly relieved, and smiled gaily on the speaker. Meanwhile Ghysbrecht plodded on, more wretched in his wealth than these in their poverty.
In a moment Martin was on Ghysbrecht's mule, and Gerard raised the fainting girl in his arms and placed her on the saddle, and relieved Martin of his bow. "Help! treason! murder! murder!" shrieked Ghysbrecht, suddenly rising on his hams. "Silence, cur," roared Gerard, and trode him down again by the throat as men crush an adder. "Now, have you got her firm? Then fly! for our lives! for our lives!"
They put their heads together, and agreed not to tell their mother, whose sentiments were so uncertain, but to go first to the burgomaster. They were cunning enough to see that he was averse to the match, though they could not divine why. Ghysbrecht Van Swieten saw through them at once; but he took care not to let them see through him.
Whether further discussion might have thrown any more light upon these ghostly sounds, who can tell? for up came a "bearded brother" from the monastery, spurring his mule, and waving a piece of vellum in his hand. It was the deed between Ghysbrecht and Floris Brandt.
He roused them furiously, and heard the story of their unsuccessful search, interlarded with praises of their zeal. "Fool! to let you go without me," cried the burgomaster. "My life on't he was there all the time. Looked ye under the girl's bed?" "No; there was no room for a man there." "How know ye that, if ye looked not?" snarled Ghysbrecht.
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