Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch by H. Rider Haggard

  It was after ten o'clock that night when a woman, wrapped in a roughfrieze coat, knocked at the door of the house in the Bree Straat andasked for the Vrouw van Goorl.

  "My mistress lies between life and death with the plague," answered theservant. "Get you gone from this pest-house, whoever you are."

  "I do not fear the plague," said the visitor. "Is the Jufvrouw ElsaBrant still up? Then tell her that Martha, called the Mare, would speakwith her."

  "She can see none at such an hour," answered the servant.

  "Tell her I come from Foy van Goorl."

  "Enter," said the servant wondering, and shut the door behind her.

  A minute later Elsa, pale-faced, worn, but still beautiful, rushed intothe room, gasping, "What news? Does he live? Is he well?"

  "He lives, lady, but he is not well, for the wound in his thigh hasfestered and he cannot walk, or even stand. Nay, have no fear, time andclean dressing will heal him, and he lies in a safe place."

  In the rapture of her relief Elsa seized the woman's hand, and wouldhave kissed it.

  "Touch it not, it is bloodstained," said Martha, drawing her hand away.

  "Blood? Whose blood is on it?" asked Elsa, shrinking back.

  "Whose blood?" answered Martha with a hollow laugh; "why that of manya Spanish man. Where, think you, lady, that the Mare gallops of nights?Ask it of the Spaniards who travel by the Haarlemer Meer. Aye, and nowRed Martin is with me and we run together, taking our tithe where we cangather it."

  "Oh! tell me no more," said Elsa. "From day to day it is ever the sametale, a tale of death. Nay, I know your wrongs have driven you mad, butthat a woman should slay----"

  "A woman! I am no woman; my womanhood died with my husband and myson. Girl, I tell you that I am no woman; I am a Sword of God myselfappointed to the sword. And so to the end I kill, and kill and kill tillthe hour when I am killed. Go, look in the church yonder, and see whohangs to the high arm of the Rood--the fat Abbe Dominic. Well, I senthim there to-night; to-morrow you will hear how I turned parson andpreached a sermon--aye, and Ramiro and Adrian called van Goorl, andSimon the spy, should have joined him there, only I could not findthem because their hour has not come. But the idols are down and thepaintings burnt, and the gold and silver and jewels are cast upon thedung-heap. Swept and garnished is the temple, made clean and fit for theLord to dwell in."

  "Made clean with the blood of murdered priests, and fit by the smoke ofsacrilege?" broke in Elsa. "Oh! woman, how can you do such wicked thingsand not be afraid?"

  "Afraid?" she answered. "Those who have passed through hell have no morefear; death I seek, and when judgment comes I will say to the Lord: Whathave I done that the Voice which speaks to me at night did not tell meto do? Look down, the blood of my husband and my son still smokes uponthe ground. Hearken, Lord God, it cries to Thee for vengeance!" and asshe spoke she lifted her blackened hands and shook them. Then she wenton.

  "They murdered your father, why do you not kill them also? You are smalland weak and timid, and could not run by night and use the knife as Ido, but there is poison. I can brew it and bring it to you, made frommarsh herbs, white as water and deadly as Death itself. What! You shrinkfrom such things? Well, girl, once I was beautiful as you and as lovingand beloved, and I can do them for my love's sake--for my love's sake.Nay, _I_ do not do them, they are done through me. The Sword am I, theSword! And you too are a sword, though you know it not, though yousee it not, you, maiden, so soft and white and sweet, are a Sword ofVengeance working the death of men; I, in my way, you in yours, payingback, back, back, full measure pressed down and running over to thoseappointed to die. The treasure of Hendrik Brant, your treasure, it isred with blood, every piece of it. I tell you that the deaths that Ihave done are but as a grain of sand to a bowlful compared to thosewhich your treasure shall do. There, maid, I fright you. Have no fear,it is but Mad Martha, who, when she sees, must speak, and through theflames in the kirk to-night I saw visions such as I have not seen foryears."

  "Tell me more of Foy and Martin," said Elsa, who was frightened andbewildered.

  At her words a change seemed to come over this woman, at once an objectof pity and of terror, for the scream went out of her voice and sheanswered quietly,

  "They reached me safe enough five days ago, Red Martin carrying Foy uponhis back. From afar I saw him, a naked man with a named sword, and knewhim by his size and beard. And oh! when I heard his tale I laughed as Ihave not laughed since I was young."

  "Tell it me," said Elsa.

  And she told it while the girl listened with clasped hands.

  "Oh! it was brave, brave," she murmured. "Red Martin forcing to the doorand Foy, weak and wounded, slaying the warder. Was there ever such astory?"

  "Men are brave and desperate with the torture pit behind them," answeredMartha grimly; "but they did well, and now they are safe with me whereno Spaniard can find them unless they hunt in great companies after theice forms and the reeds are dead."

  "Would that I could be there also," said Elsa, "but I tend his motherwho is very sick, so sick that I do not know whether she will live ordie."

  "Nay, you are best here among your people," answered Martha. "And nowthat the Spaniards are driven out, here Foy shall return also so soon asit is safe for him to travel; but as yet he cannot stir, and Red Martinstays to watch him. Before long, however, he must move, for I havetidings that the Spaniards are about to besiege Haarlem with a greatarmy, and then the Mere will be no longer safe for us, and I shall leaveit to fight with the Haarlem folk."

  "And Foy and Martin will return?"

  "I think so, if they are not stopped."

  "Stopped?"--and she put her hand upon her heart.

  "The times are rough, Jufvrouw Elsa. Who that breathes the air onemorning can know what breath will pass his nostrils at the nightfall?The times are rough, and Death is king of them. The hoard of HendrikBrant is not forgotten, nor those who have its key. Ramiro slippedthrough my hands to-night, and doubtless by now is far away from Leydenseeking the treasure."

  "The treasure! Oh! that thrice accursed treasure!" broke in Elsa,shivering as though beneath an icy wind; "would that we were rid of it."

  "That you cannot be until it is appointed, for is this not the heritagewhich your father died to save? Listen. Do you know, lady, where it lieshid?" and she dropped her voice to a whisper.

  Elsa shook her head, saying:

  "I neither know nor wish to know."

  "Still it is best that you should be told, for we three who have thesecret may be killed, every one of us--no, not the place, but where toseek a clue to the place."

  Elsa looked at her questioningly, and Martha, leaning forward, whisperedin her ear:

  "_It lies in the hilt of the Sword Silence_. If Red Martin shouldbe taken or killed, seek out his sword and open the hilt. Do youunderstand?"

  Elsa nodded and answered, "But if aught happens to Martin the sword maybe lost."

  Martha shrugged her shoulders. "Then the treasure will be lost also,that is if I am gone. It is as God wills; but at least in name you arethe heiress, and you should know where to find its secret, which mayserve you or your country in good stead in time to come. I give you nopaper, I tell you only where to seek a paper, and now I must be gone toreach the borders of the Mere by daybreak. Have you any message for yourlove, lady?"

  "I would write a word, if you can wait. They will bring you food."

  "Good; write on and I will eat. Love for the young and meat for the old,and for both let God be thanked."