The Essential Writings of Emma Orczy. Emma Orczy
— to a depth of shame and sorrow which you cannot possibly fathom?"
"My conscience, mejuffrouw," he replied, seemingly quite unperturbed at her contemptuous glance and insulting speech, "is, as you say, somewhat erratic. For the moment it refuses to consider the possibility of escorting you to Delft unless I know what it is that you desire to say to the Prince of Orange."
"If it is a question of price...."
"It is not a question of price, mejuffrouw," he broke in firmly, "let us, an you will allow it, call it a question of mine erratic conscience."
"I am rich, sir ... my private fortune...."
"Do not name it, mejuffrouw," he said jovially, "the sound of it would stagger a poor man who has to scrape up a living as best he can."
"Forty thousand guilders, sir," she said pleading once more eagerly, "an you will take me to Delft to-morrow."
"Were it ten hundred thousand, mejuffrouw, I would not do it unless I knew what you wished to say to the Stadtholder."
"Sir, can I not move you," she implored, "this means more to me than I can hope to tell you." Once again her pride had given way before this new and awful fear that her errand would be in vain, that she had come here as a suppliant before this rogue, that she had humbled her dignity, entreated him, almost knelt to him, and that he, for some base reason which she could not understand, meant to give himself the satisfaction of refusing the fortune which she did promise him.
"Can I not move you," she reiterated, appealing yet more earnestly, for, womanlike, she could not forget that moment awhile ago, when he had knelt instinctively before her, when the irony had gone from his smile, and the laughter in his mocking eyes had yielded to an inward glow.
He shook his head, but remained unmoved.
"I cannot tell you, sir," she urged plaintively, "what I would say to the Prince."
"Is it so deadly a secret then?" he asked.
"Call it that, an you will."
"A secret that concerns his life?"
"That I did not say."
"No. It was a guess. A right one methinks."
"Then if you think so, sir, why not let me go to him?"
"So that you may warn him?"
"You were merely guessing, sir...."
"That you may tell him not to continue his journey," he insisted, speaking less restrainedly now, as he leaned forward closer to her, her fair curls almost brushing against his cheek as they fluttered in the draught.
"I did not say so," she murmured.
"Because there is a trap laid for him ... a trap of which you know...."
"No, no!" she cried involuntarily.
"A trap into which he may fall ... unknowingly ... on his way to the north."
"You say so, sir," she moaned, "not I...."
"Assassins are on his track ... an attempt will be made against his life ... the murderers lie in wait for him ... even now ... and you, mejuffrouw, who know who those murderers are...."
A cry of anguish rose to her lips.
"No, no, no," she cried, "it is false ... you are only guessing ... remember that I have told you nothing."
But already the tense expression on his face had gone. He drew himself up to his full height once more and heaved a deep breath which sounded like a sigh of satisfaction.
"Yet in your candour, mejuffrouw, you have told me much," he said quietly, "confirmed much that I only vaguely guessed. The Stadtholder's life is in peril and you hold in your feeble little hands the threads of the conspiracy which threatens him ... is that not why you are here, mejuffrouw ... a prisoner, as you say, at the good-will of my employer? I am only guessing, remember, but on your face, meseems that I can read that I do guess aright."
"Then you will do what I ask?" she exclaimed with a happy little gasp of renewed hope.
"That, mejuffrouw, is I fear me impossible," he said quietly.
"Impossible? But — just now...."
"Just now," he rejoined with affected carelessness, "I said, mejuffrouw, that I would on no account escort you to Delft without knowing what your purpose is with the Prince of Orange. Even now I do not know, I merely guessed."
"But," she entreated, "if I do own that you have guessed aright — partly at any rate — if I do tell you that the Stadtholder's life might be imperilled if I did not give him a timely word of warning, if...."
"Even if you told me all that, mejuffrouw," he broke in lightly, "if you did bring your pride down so far as to trust a miserable knave with a secret which he might sell for money on the morrow — even then, I fear me, I could not do what you ask."
"But why not?" she insisted, her voice choking in her throat in the agony of terrible doubt and fear.
"Because the man of whom you spoke just now, the man whom you love, mejuffrouw, has been more far-seeing, more prudent than you or I. He hath put it out of my power to render you this service."
"How?"
"By warning Mynheer Ben Isaje against any attempt at escape on your part, against any attempt at betrayal on mine. Mynheer Ben Isaje is prepared: he hath a guard of ten picked men on the watch, and two more men outside his door. If you tried to leave this house with me without his consent he would prevent you, and I am no match alas! for twelve men."
"Why should he guard me so?"
"Because he will not be paid if he keep not watch over you."
"But I'll swear to return straightway from Delft. I'll only speak with the Prince and return immediately.... Money! always money!" she cried with sudden vehemence, "a great man's life, the honour of a house, the salvation of the land, are these all to be sacrificed because of the greed and cupidity of men?"
"Shall I call Mynheer Ben Isaje?" asked Diogenes placidly, "mayhap, mejuffrouw, that you could persuade him more easily than me!"
But at this she rose to her feet as suddenly as if she had been stung: the colour in her cheeks deepened, the tears were dry in her eyes.
"You," she exclaimed, and there was a world of bitter contempt in the tone of her voice, "persuade you who have tricked and fooled me, even while I began to believe in you? You, who for the past half hour have tried to filch a secret from me bit by bit! with lying words you led me into telling you even more than I should! and I, poor fool I thought that I had touched your heart, or that at least there was some spark of loyalty in you which mayhap prompted you to guess that the Prince was in danger. Fool that I was! miserable, wretched fool! to think for a moment that you would lend a hand in aught that was noble and chivalrous! I would I had the power to raise the blush of shame in your cheeks, but alas! the shame is only for me, who trusting in your false promises and your lies have allowed my tongue to speak words which I would give my life now to unsay — for me who thought that there was in you one feeble spark of pity or of honour. Fool! fool that I was! when I forgot for one brief moment that it was your greed and cupidity that were the props without which this whole edifice of infamy had tottered long ago; persuade you to do a selfish deed! you the abductor of women, the paid varlet and mercenary rogue who will thieve and outrage and murder for money!"
She sank back in her chair and, resting her arms upon the table, she buried her face in them, for she had given way at last to a passionate fit of weeping. The disappointment was greater than she could bear after the load of sorrow which had been laid on her these past few days.
When she heard through the chatterings of a servant that the Stadtholder was at Delft this very night, the memory of every word which she had heard in the cathedral on New Year's Eve came back to her with renewed vividness. Delft! she remembered that name so well and Ryswyk close by, the only possible way for a northward journey! Then the molens which Stoutenburg had said were his headquarters, where