Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch by H. Rider Haggard
Red Martin stood upon the balcony gripping the man Ramiro. Beneath himthe broad street was packed with people, hundreds and thousands of them,a dense mass seething in the shadows, save here and again where a torchor a lantern flared showing their white faces, for the moon, whichshone upon Martin and his captive, scarcely reached those down below. Asgaunt, haggard, and long-haired, he stepped upon the balcony, they sawhim and his burden, and there went up such a yell as shook the veryroofs of Leyden. Martin held up his hand, and there was silence, deepsilence, through which the breath of all that multitude rose in sighs,like the sighing of a little wind.
"Citizens my Leyden, my masters," the Frisian cried, in a great, deepvoice that echoed down the street, "I have a word to say to you. Thisman here--do you know him?"
Back came an answering yell of "_Aye!_"
"He is a Spaniard," went on Martin, "the noble Count Juan de Montalvo,who many years past forced one Lysbeth van Hout of this city into afalse marriage, buying her at the price of the life of her affiancedhusband, Dirk van Goorl, that he might win her fortune."
"We know it," they shouted.
"Afterwards he was sent to the galleys for his crimes. He came back,and was made Governor of the Gevangenhuis by the bloody Alva, wherehe brought to death your brother and past burgomaster, Dirk van Goorl.Afterwards he kidnapped the person of Elsa Brant, the daughter ofHendrik Brant, whom the Inquisition murdered at The Hague. We rescuedher from him, my master, Foy van Goorl, and I. Afterwards he servedwith the Spaniards as a captain of their forces in the siege of Haarlemyonder--Haarlem that fell three days ago, and whose citizens they aremurdering to-night, throwing them two by two to drown in the waters ofthe Mere."
"Kill him! Cast him down!" roared the mob. "Give him to us, Red Martin."
Again the Frisian lifted his hand and again there was silence; a sudden,terrible silence.
"This man had a son; my mistress, Lysbeth van Goorl, to her shame andsorrow, was the mother of him. That son, repenting, saved us from thesack of Haarlem, yea, through him the three of us, Foy van Goorl, ElsaBrant, and I, Martin Roos, their servant, are alive to-night. This manand his Spaniards overtook us on the lake, and there we conquered himby the help of Martha the Mare, Martha whom they made to carry her ownhusband to the fire. We conquered him, but she--she died in the fray;they stabbed her to death in the water as men stab an otter. Well, thatson, the Heer Adrian, he was murdered in the boat with a knife-blowgiven by his own father from behind, and he lies here in this house deador dying.
"My master and I, we brought this man, who to-day is called Ramiro, tobe judged by the woman whose husband and son he slew. But she would notjudge him; she said, 'Take him to the people, let them judge.' So judgenow, ye people," and with an effort of his mighty strength Martin swungthe struggling body of Ramiro over the parapet of the balcony and lethim hang there above their heads.
They yelled, they screamed in their ravenous hate and rage; they leaptup as hounds leap at a wolf upon a wall.
"Give him to us, give him to us!" that was their cry.
Martin laughed aloud. "Take him then," he said; "take him, ye people,and judge him as you will," and with one great heave he hurled the thingthat writhed between his hands far out into the centre of the street.
The crowd below gathered themselves into a heap like water above a boatsinking in the heart of a whirlpool. For a minute or more they snarledand surged and twisted. Then they broke up and went away, talking inshort, eager sentences. And there, small and dreadful on the stones, laysomething that once had been a man.
Thus did the burghers of Leyden pass judgment and execute it upon thatnoble Spaniard, the Count Juan de Montalvo.