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
When I went abroad next day I perceived that black care had seized upon
the people. The scarcity of victuals was known of all, and as the
meaner folk felt the pinch of hunger more dearly they broke forth into
murmurs and complaints. Dark looks were cast upon me as I took my way
to the council chamber, and still darker met me there. Mindful of
Volmar’s intent to have me removed, I looked for some instant charge to
be brought against me, as though I were a Jonah in the city; but nought
was said openly, and I concluded that I must be on my guard against some
secret machination—a knife in my back, or a stray bullet did I but show
myself upon the ramparts. I was heedful, therefore, that day and the
days succeeding, to go only in the middle of the street, and to keep
within the house after nightfall, not deeming it any mark of valour to
jeopardize the happiness of three good folk and the safety of the city
by running into any needless danger.
As day followed day, I became aware that the people’s discontent and
queasiness was being fomented by the agents of Volmar, though that
two-faced villain was most fervent, at the meetings of the council, in
admonishing the burghers to endure to the end. Day after day the
Spaniards plied their artillery upon the walls, chiefly upon that
portion where the Burgomaster was in charge of the defences. The
masonry was sore battered, many of the burghers were slain or maimed,
and the Burgomaster himself, who endeavoured still to sustain the
reputation he had achieved in that night sally, was struck upon the
elbow by a fragment of stone, whereby the little man was afflicted more
heavily in mind than in body. In his one ear, so to speak, Volmar
whispered counsels of despair under a mask of encouragement; in the
other I spoke words of comfort and good cheer, assuring him that, could
he but resist a little longer, Prince Maurice would come to his succour,
as he had promised. My influence, I knew, was sapped by Volmar’s
guileful insinuations, and I could not doubt that finally I should be
worsted unless I could prove Volmar to be the traitor he was.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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