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 news was brought to me in my room by the young man’s mother, who was
utterly broken with grief and shame. She had never a doubt of his
innocency, and besought me with many tears and supplications to save
him. I had much ado to refrain from giving her positive assurance that
her son should not die; but I deemed it better for my purpose that she
should suffer ten days of suspense and anguish than that we should come
under any suspicion by reason of her serenity and ease of mind. I put
her off, therefore, with unsubstantial words of comfort. But my policy
was undone that same evening, for about the hour of supper there came to
the house a female figure close enshrouded in hood and cloak; and asking
speech with me, she was admitted to the chamber wherein I sat with the
widow lady, and casting off her hood revealed the wan, sorrowful face of
Mistress Jacqueline, the Burgomaster’s daughter.
"Oh, sir," she cried, flinging herself upon her knees and clasping her
hands piteously, "oh, sir, save my lover! My father condemned him, but
he is, I know, the cat’s-paw of wicked men. Sir, I beseech you, save my
lover!"
I raised her up, and my resolution utterly melted away. I did for the
sweetheart what I had refused to do for the mother, assuring her that
Jan Verhoeff should not die, I myself would prevent it; but it was
necessary, for the due punishment of those that conspired against him,
that none should so much as guess at anything being adventured on his
behalf. At this the women were mightily cheered, but the widow bore me
a grudge in that I had before withheld this solace from her; and I
cannot say but that I deserved it.
I had no certain plan for establishing the treason of Mynheer Volmar;
but I was resolved to keep a close watch upon him, deeming it likely
that in mere self-confidence he would take a false step. While with
exceeding care I held myself in the background, I contrived to learn all
that was requisite about his doings. On Sunday I made one of the throng
of spectators that witnessed his discharge of a single shot upon the
Spanish lines, the which, as the Captain of the Guard had told me, was
the charm whereby the city was protected for that day. I observed that
the shot was brought from the store by Volmar’s own servant; Volmar
himself loaded the culverin, trained it, and set the match to the
touch-hole. The burghers, with their wives and children, looked on as
at a mystery, and when the shot fell upon some loose earth near the
trenches, casting up a cloud of dust, they nodded and smiled, and some
clapped their hands; and then they all went forthwith to church, Volmar
leading the way.
I was on the point of following them, thinking no little scorn of such
mummery as I had just witnessed, when, on casting my eye over the
parapet, I observed a Spaniard move slowly towards the spot where the
ball had fallen. He stood for a brief space as if contemplating the
effect wrought thereby, and then returned within the camp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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