He slept under the shelter of a haystack, and in the morning dug up the packet, sewed it up in its hiding place again, and re-entered the city as soon as the gates were opened, going in with a number of market people who had congregated there awaiting the opening of the gates. In a very short time the shops were all opened; for if the people went to bed early, they were also astir early in those days. He went first towards the house of one of the burghers, and watched until he saw the man himself appear at the doorway of his shop; then he walked across the street.
“The weather is clear,” he said, “but the sun is nigh hidden with clouds.”
The burgher gave a slight start; then Ned went on:
“I have brought you tidings from the farm.”
“Come in,” the burgher said in loud tones, so that he could be heard by his two assistants in the shop. “My wife will be glad to hear tidings of her old nurse, who was ill when she last heard from her. You can reassure her in that respect, I hope?”
“Yes, she is mending fast,” Ned replied, as he followed the burgher through the shop.
The man led the way upstairs, and then into a small sitting room. He closed the door behind him.
“Now,” he asked, “what message do you bring from Holland?”
“I bring a letter,” Ned replied; and taking out his knife again he cut the threads of the lining and produced the packet. The silk that bound it, and which was fastened by the prince's seal, was so arranged that it could be slipped off, and so enable the packet to be opened without breaking the seal. Ned took out the letters; and after examining the marks on the corners, handed one to the burgher. The latter opened and read the contents.
“I am told,” he said when he had finished, “not to give you an answer in writing, but to deliver it by word of mouth. Tell the prince that I have sounded many of my guild, and that certainly the greater part of the weavers will rise and join in expelling the Spaniards whenever a general rising has been determined upon; and it is certain that all the other chief towns will join in the movement. Unless it is general, I fear that nothing can be done. So great is the consternation that has been caused by the sack of Mechlin, the slaughter of thousands of the citizens, and the horrible atrocities upon the women, that no city alone will dare to provoke the vengeance of Alva. All must rise or none will do so. I am convinced that Brussels will do her part, if others do theirs; although, as the capital, it is upon her the first brunt of the Spanish attack will fall. In regard to money, tell him that at present none can be collected. In the first place, we are all well nigh ruined by the exactions of the Spanish; and in the next, however well disposed we may be, there are few who would commit themselves by subscribing for the cause until the revolt is general and successful. Then, I doubt not, that the councillors would vote as large a subsidy as the city could afford to pay. Four at least of the members of the council of our guild can be thoroughly relied upon, and the prince can safely communicate with them. These are Gunther, Barneveldt, Hasselaer, and Buys.”
“Please, repeat them again,” Ned said, “in order that I may be sure to remember them rightly.”
“As to general toleration,” the burgher went on, after repeating the names, “in matters of religion, although there are many differences of opinion, I think that the prince's commands on this head will be complied with, and that it would be agreed that Lutherans, Calvinists, and other sects will be allowed to assemble for worship without hindrance; but the Catholic feeling is very strong, especially among the nobles, and the numbers of those secretly inclined to the new religion has decreased greatly in the past few years, just as they have increased in Holland and Zeeland, where, as I hear, the people are now well nigh all Protestants. Please assure the prince of my devotion to him personally, and that I shall do my best to further his plans, and can promise him that the Guild of Weavers will be among the first to rise against the tyranny of the Spaniards.”
Ned, as he left the house, decided that the man he had visited was not one of those who would be of any great use in an emergency. He was evidently well enough disposed to the cause, but was not one to take any great risks, or to join openly in the movement unless convinced that success was assured for it. He was walking along, thinking the matter over, when he was suddenly and roughly accosted. Looking up he saw the Councillor Von Aert and his clerk; the former with an angry look on his face, the latter, who was close beside his master, and who had evidently drawn his attention to him, with a malicious grin of satisfaction.
“Hullo, sirrah,” the councillor said angrily, “did I not tell you to call upon me at Antwerp?”
Ned took off his hat, and said humbly, “I should of course have obeyed your worship's order had I passed through Antwerp; but I afterwards remembered that I had cause to pass through Ghent, and therefore took that road, knowing well that one so insignificant as myself could have nothing to tell your worship that should occupy your valuable time.”
“That we will see about,” the councillor said grimly. “Genet, lay your hand upon this young fellow's collar. We will lodge him in safe keeping, and inquire into the matter when we have leisure. I doubt not that you were right when you told me that you suspected he was other than he seemed.”
Ned glanced round; a group of Spanish soldiers were standing close by, and he saw that an attempt at escape would be hopeless. He therefore walked quietly along by the side of the clerk's horse, determining to wrest himself from the man's hold and run for it the instant he saw an opportunity. Unfortunately, however, he was unaware that they were at the moment within fifty yards of the prison. Several bystanders who had heard the conversation followed to see the result; and other passersby, seeing Ned led by the collar behind the dreaded councillor, speedily gathered around with looks expressing no goodwill to Von Aert.
The Spanish soldiers, however, accustomed to frays with the townspeople, at once drew their weapons and closed round the clerk and his captive, and two minutes later they arrived at the door of the prison, and Ned, completely taken by surprise, found himself thrust in and the door closed behind him before he had time to decide upon his best course.
“You will place this prisoner in a secure place,” the councillor said. “It is a case of grave suspicion; and I will myself question him later on. Keep an eye upon him until I come again.”
Ned was handed over to two warders, who conducted him to a chamber in the third storey. Here, to his dismay, one of his jailers took up his post, while the other retired, locking the door behind him. Thus the intention Ned had formed as he ascended the stairs of destroying the documents as soon as he was alone, was frustrated. The warder took his place at the window, which looked into an inner court of the prison, and putting his head out entered into conversation with some of his comrades in the yard below.
Ned regretted now that he had, before leaving the burgher, again sewn up the letters in his doublet. Had he carried them loosely about him, he could have chewed them up one by one and swallowed them; but he dared not attempt to get at them now, as his warder might at any moment look round. The latter was relieved twice during the course of the day. None of the men paid any attention to the prisoner. The succession of victims who entered the walls of the prison only to quit them for the gallows was so rapid that they had no time to concern themselves with their affairs.
Probably the boy was a heretic; but whether or not, if he had incurred the enmity of Councillor Von Aert, his doom was sealed.