A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, KnightStrang, Herbert
History
A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight
Strang, Herbert
Adventure stories; Great Britain -- History -- Elizabeth, 1558-1603 -- Juvenile fiction
The Captain would have led me instantly to the presence of the
Burgomaster, but on my assuring him that my errand was not so urgent as
that I should disturb that worthy gentleman’s rest so unseasonably, he
offered to find me a comfortable lodging for the night. We went
together, my servant following, through the dark and silent streets, the
Captain telling me that I should lodge in the house of the widow of the
late Burgomaster, who had been slain in a skirmish the year before.
When I said that I was loth to intrude upon the lady at so late an hour,
the Captain declared that Meffrouw Verhoeff would deem it in no wise an
intrusion; indeed, he said that I should find a table ready laid, my
hostess having a son among the guard for whom she watched on all those
nights when he was abroad.
Within a little I found myself at the entrance of a house wherein a lamp
shone. At the Captain’s knock the door was opened, and a voice asked,
"Is it you, Jan?" the speaker not perceiving at the first who we were.
The Captain presenting me as an envoy from Prince Maurice, and an
Englishman, a soft hand caught mine, and drew me into the house, and I
made my salutation to a little old lady, very comely and personable,
with a widow’s cap and snow-white ruff, who greeted me in English and
bade me very heartily welcome. She would hear no excuses upon the
lateness of the hour; but led me into her parlour, then left me while
she bestowed my servant, and returning, entreated me to do honour to the
viands with which her table was sparely spread.
Mistress Verhoeff entertained me as I ate with many particulars of the
siege. I was not long of discovering that her small body was the seat
of a very fiery and unquenchable spirit; and in truth, while she spoke
of the brave deeds done in defence of the city, her cheeks glowed and
her eyes sparkled so that she seemed young again. There had been much
suffering, she told me; but her folk had learnt to suffer, and of a
surety could endure even more grievous afflictions than had yet befallen
them.
At these words methought there was trouble in her voice, and I wondered
whether she was aware of the rumours whereof Prince Maurice had made
mention in his letter to Sir Francis Vere.
She spoke of her dead husband, and of her living son, who was this night
on guard at the wall.
"Had his father but lived," she said, "my boy had beyond question held
great place, in the field or the council chamber; but now, alack! he
trails a pike among the common men."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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