Lysbeth, a Tale of the DutchHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
History
Lysbeth, a Tale of the Dutch
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Netherlands -- History -- House of Habsburg, 1477-1556 -- Fiction
“Of whom I think he came to claim her afterwards,” replied Adrian with
another languishing glance, and a smile of conscious vanity at the
neatness of his answer. Their glances met, and suddenly Adrian became
aware that Elsa’s face had undergone a complete change. The piquante,
half-amused smile had passed out of it; it was strained and hard and
the eyes were frightened.
“Oh! now I understand the shadow—how strange,” she exclaimed in a new
voice.
“What is the matter? What is strange?” he asked.
“Oh!—only that your face reminded me so much of a man of whom I am
terrified. No, no, I am foolish, it is nothing, those footpads have
upset me. Praise be to God that we are out of that dreadful wood! Look,
neighbour Broekhoven, here is Leyden before us. Are not those red roofs
pretty in the twilight, and how big the churches seem. See, too, there
is water all round the walls; it must be a very strong town. I should
think that even the Spaniards could not take it, and oh! I am sure that
it would be a good thing if we might find a city which we were quite,
quite certain the Spaniards could never take—all, all of us,” and she
sighed heavily.
“If I were a Spanish general with a proper army,” began Adrian
pompously, “I would take Leyden easily enough. Only this afternoon I
studied its weak spots, and made a plan of attack which could scarcely
fail, seeing that the place would only be defended by a mob of
untrained, half-armed burghers.”
Again that curious look returned into Elsa’s eyes.
“If you were a Spanish general,” she said slowly. “How can you jest
about such a thing as the sacking of a town by Spaniards? Do you know
what it means? That is how they talk; I have heard them,” and she
shuddered, then went on: “You are not a Spaniard, are you, sir, that
you can speak like that?” And without waiting for an answer Elsa urged
her mule forward, leaving him a little behind.
Presently as they passed through the Witte Poort, he was at her side
again and chatting to her, but although she replied courteously enough,
he felt that an invisible barrier had arisen between them. Yes, she had
read his secret heart; it was as though she had been a party to his
thoughts when he stood by the bridge this afternoon designing plans for
the taking of Leyden, and half wishing that he might share in its
capture. She mistrusted him, and was half afraid of him, and Adrian
knew that it was so.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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