 CHAPTER XII OF THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH by Charles Reed. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham. Gisbrecht van Svitten kept the key of Gerard's prison in his pouch. He waited till ten o'clock, ere he visited, for he said to himself, A little hunger sometimes does well, it breaks him. At ten he crept up the stairs with a loaf and a pitcher, followed by his trusty servant, well-armed. Gisbrecht listened at the door. There was no sound inside. A grim smile stole over his features. By this time he will be as down-hearted as Albert Kursstein was, thought he. He opened the door. No, Gerard. Gisbrecht stood stupefied. Although his face was not visible, his body seemed to lose all motion in so peculiar a way, and then after a little he felt trembling so that the servant behind him saw there was something amiss and crept close to him and peeped over his shoulder. At the sight of the empty cell and the rope and iron bar, he uttered a loud exclamation of wonder, but his surprise doubled when his master, disregarding all else, suddenly flung himself on his knees before the empty chest and felt wildly all over it with quivering hands as if unwilling to trust his eyes in a matter so important. The servant gazed at him in utter bewilderment. Why, master, what is the matter? Gisbrecht's pale lips worked as if he was going to answer, but they uttered no sound. His hands fell by his side, and he stared into the chest. Why, master, what avails glaring into that empty box? The lad is not there. See here? Note the cunning of the young rogue. He had taken out the bar and gone, gone, gone. What is gone? Holy saints, he has planet struck. Stop, thief, shrieked Gisbrecht, and suddenly turned on his servant and collared him and shook him with rage. Do you stand there, nave, and see your master robbed? Run, fly, a hundred crowns to him that finds it me again. No, no, it is in vain. Oh, fool, fool, to leave that in the same room with him. But none ever found the secret spring before. None ever would, but he. It was to be. It is to be. Lost, lost. And his years and infirmity now gained the better of his short-lived frenzy. And he sank on the chest, muttering, lost, lost. What is lost, master? asked the servant kindly. House and lands and good name, groaned Gisbrecht and wrung his hands feebly. What? cried the servant. This emphatic word and the tone of eager curiosity struck on Gisbrecht's ear and revived his natural cunning. I have lost the town records, stammered he. And he looked a scant at the man, like a fox caught near a hen-roost. Oh, is that all? It's not enough. What will the burgers say to me? What will the burrow do? Then he suddenly burst out again. A hundred crowns to him who shall recover them. All mine, all that were in this box. If one be missing, I give nothing. Titter-bargain, master, the hundred crowns are in my pouch. See, you not, that where Gerard Eliasson is, there are pieces of sheepskin you rate so high. That is true, that is true, good dirich. Good faithful dirich, all mine, all that were in the chest. Master, I will take the constables to Gerard's house and seize him for the theft. The theft, ah, good, very good, it is theft. I forgot that. So, as he is a thief now, we will put him in the dungeons below where the toads are and the rats. Dirich, that man must never see daylight again. To his own fault, he must be prying. Quick, quick. Eh, he has time to talk. You know, time to talk. In less than half an hour, dirich Brauer and four constables entered the Hosier's house and demanded young Gerard of the panic-stricken Catherine. Alas, what has he done now? cried she. That boy will break my heart. May dame, but a trick of youth, said dirich. He hath but made off with certain skins of parchment in a frolic doubtless, but the burgamaster is answerable to the borough for their safekeeping, so he is in care about them. As for the youth, he will doubtless be quick for a reprimand. This smooth speech completely imposed on Catherine, but her daughter was more suspicious, and that suspicion was strengthened by the disproportionate anger and disappointment dirich showed the moment he learned Gerard was not at home, had not been at home that night. Come away, then, he said roughly, we are wasting time. He added vehemently, I'll find him if he is above ground. Affection sharpens the wits, and often it has made an innocent person more than a match for the wily. As dirich was going out, Kate made him a signal she would speak with him privately. He barred his men go on and waited outside the door. She joined him. Hush, said she, my mother knows not. Gerard has left Targu. How? I saw him last night. I? Where? cried dirich eagerly at the foot of the haunted tower. How did he get the rope? No, not. But this I know. My brother Gerard bad me there farewell, and he is many leagues from Targu air this. The town, you know, was always unworthy of him, and when it imprisoned him he vowed never to set foot in it again. Let the burger master be content, then. He has imprisoned him, and he has driven him from his birthplace and from his native land. What need now to rob him and us of our good name? This might at another moment have struck dirich as good sense, but he was too mortified at this escape of Gerard and the loss of a hundred crowns. What need had he to steal? retorted he bitterly. Gerard stole not the trash, but he took it to spite the burger master who stole his liberty. But he shall answer to the duke for it, he shall. As for these skins of parchment you keep such a coil about, look in the nearest brook or sty, at his odds, but you find them. Think ye so, mistress, think ye so? And dirich's eyes flashed. May have you noticed so? This I know, that Gerard is too good to steal and too wise to load himself with rubbish going a journey. Give ye a good day, then, said dirich sharply. The sheepskin you scorn I value it more than the skin of any integral. And he went off hastily on a false scent. Kate returned into the house and drew Giles aside. Giles, my heart misgives me. Breathe not to a soul, what I say to you. I have told Dirk Brower that Gerard is out of Holland, but much I doubt he is not a league from Tegu. Why? Where is he, then? Where should he be, but with her he loves? But if so, he must not loiter. These be deep and dark and wicked men that seek him. Giles, I see that in Dirk Brower's eye makes me tremble. Oh, why cannot I fly to Severnburgen and bid him away? Why am I not lusty and active like other girls? God forgive me for fretting at his will, but I never felt till now what it is to be lame and weak and useless. But you are strong, dear Giles, added she coaxingly, you are very strong. Yes, I am strong, thundered purposalus, then catching sight of her meaning, but I hate to go on foot, he added silkily. Alas, alas, who will help me if you will not? Dear Giles, do you not love Gerard? Yes, I like him best of the lot. I'll go to Severnburgen on Peter Boyskins's mule. Ask you him, for he won't lend a me. Kate remonstrated. The whole town would follow him. It would be known whether he was gone and Gerard being worse danger than before. Giles parried this by promising to ride out of the town the opposite way and not turn the mule's head towards Severnburgen till he had got rid of the curious. Kate then assented and borrowed the mule. She charged Giles with a short but meaning message and made him repeat it after her over and over till he could say it word for word. Giles started on the mule and little Kate retired and did the last thing now in her power for her beloved brother. Prayed on her knees long and earnestly for his safety. End of chapter 12 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 13 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Gerard and Margaret went gaily to Severnburgen for the first flush of recovered liberty and successful adventure. But these soon yielded to sadder thoughts. Gerard was an escaped prisoner and liable to be retaken and perhaps punished and therefore he and Margaret would have to part for a time. Moreover, he had conceived a hatred to his native place. Margaret wished him to leave the country for a while but with the thought of his going to Italy, her heart fainted. Gerard, on the contrary, was reconciled to leaving Margaret only by his desire to visit Italy and his strong conviction that there he should earn money and reputation and remove every obstacle to their marriage. He had already told her all that the demoiselle van Eyck had said to him. He repeated it and reminded Margaret that the gold pieces were only given him to go to Italy with. The journey was clearly for Gerard's interest. He was a craftsman and an artist lost in this boorish place. In Italy they would know how to value him. On this ground above all the unselfish girl gave her consent but many tender tears came with it and at that Gerard, young and loving as herself, cried bitterly with her and often they asked one another what they had done that so many different persons should be their enemies and combine as it seemed to part them. They sat hand in hand till midnight now deploring their hard fate now drawing bright and hopeful pictures of the future in the midst of which Margaret's tears would suddenly flow and then poor Gerard's eloquence would die away in a sigh. The morning found them resigned to part but neither had the courage to say when and much I doubt whether the hour of parting ever would have struck. But about three in the afternoon Giles, who had made a circuit of many miles to avoid suspicion rode up to the door. They both ran out to him eager with curiosity. Brother Gerard, cried he in his tremendous tones Kate, bitch, you run for your life. They charge you with theft. You have given them a handle. Think not to explain. Hope not for justice in Turgall. The parchment she took there butter-blind. She had seen your death in the men's eyes. The price is on your head. Fly! For Margaret's sake and all who love you, loiter not life away, but fly! It was a thunder-clap and left two white faces looking at one another and at the terrible messenger. Then Giles, who had hitherto but uttered by rote what Catherine bad him, put in a word of his own. All the constables were at our house after you and so was Dirk Brower. Kate is wise, Gerard. Best give ear to her read and fly. Oh, yes, Gerard, cried Margaret wildly, fly on the instant. Ah, those parchments! My mind misgave me. Why did I let you take them? Margaret, they are butter-blind. Giles says so. No matter, the old Katef shall never see them again. I will not go till I have hidden his treasure where he shall never find it. Gerard then, after thanking Giles warmly, bad him farewell, and told him to go back and tell Kate he was gone. For I shall be gone ere you reach home, said he, and then shouted for Martin and told him what had happened and begged him to go a little way towards Tegu and watch the road. I, said Martin, and if I see Dirk Brower or any of his men, I will shoot an arrow into the oak tree that is in our garden, and on that you must run into the forest hard by and meet me at the weird hunter's spring. Then I will guide you through the wood. Surprise thus provided against. Gerard breathed again. He went with Margaret, and whilst she watched the oak tree tremblingly, fearing every moment to see an arrow strike among the branches, Gerard dug a deep hole to bury the parchment's in. He threw them in, one by one. They were nearly all charters and records of the borough, but one appeared to be a private deed between Flores Brandt, father of Peter, and Gisbrecht. Why, this is as much yours as his, said Gerard. I will read this. Oh, not now, Gerard, not now! cried Margaret. Every moment you lose fills me with fear and see large drops of rain are beginning to fall and the clouds lower. Gerard yielded to this remonstrance, but he put the deed into his bosom and threw the earth in over the others and stamped it down. While thus employed there came a flash of lightning followed by a peel of distant thunder and the rain came down heavily. Margaret and Gerard ran into the house, wither they were speedily followed by Martin. The road is clear, said he, and a heavy storm coming on. His words proved true. The thunder came nearer and nearer till it crashed overhead. The flashers followed one another close, like the strokes of a whip, and the rain fell in torrents. Margaret hid her face not to see the lightning. On this Gerard put up the rough shutter and lighted a candle. The lovers consulted together and Gerard blessed the storm that gave him a few hours more with Margaret. The sun set unperceived and still the thunder peeled and the lightning flashed and the rain poured. Supper was set, but Gerard and Margaret could not eat. The thought that this was the last time they should sub together choked them. The storm lulled a little. Peter retired to rest, but Gerard was to go at peep of day and neither he, nor Margaret, could afford to lose an hour in sleep. Martin sat a while too, for he was fitting a new string to his bow, a matter in which he was very nice. The lovers murmured their sorrows and their love beside him. Suddenly the old man held up his hand to them to be silent. They were quiet and listened and heard nothing. But the next moment a footstep crackled faintly upon the autumn leaves that lay strewn in the garden at the back door of the house. To those who had nothing to fear such a step would have said nothing, but to those who had enemies it was terrible, for it was a foot trying to be noiseless. Martin fitted an arrow to his string and hastily blew out the candle. At this moment to their horror they heard more than one footstep approach the other door of the cottage. Not quite so noiselessly as the other, but very stealthily, and then a dead pause. Their blood froze in their veins. Oh, Kate! Oh, Kate! You said fly on the instant! And Margaret moaned and wrung her hands in anguish and terror and wild remorse for having kept Gerard. Hush, girl! said Martin in a stern whisper. A heavy knock fell on the door and on the hearts within. End of Chapter 13 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 14 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham As if this had been a concerted signal, the back door was struck as rudely the next instant. They were hemmed in. But at these alarming sounds Margaret seemed to recover some share of self-possession. She whispered, Say he was here, but is gone. And with this she seized Gerard and almost dragged him up the rude steps that led to her father's sleeping-room. Her own lay next beyond it. The blows on the door were repeated. Who knocks at this hour? Open and you will see. I open not to thieves, honest men are all a bed now. Open to the law, Martin Wittenhagen, or you shall rue it. Why, that is Dirk Brower's voice I trow. What make you so far from Tegu? Open and you will know. Martin drew the bolt very slowly. And in rushed Dirk and Fomo. They let in their companion who was at the back door. Now, Martin, where is Gerard Eliason? Gerard Eliason? Why, he was here but now. Was here? Dirk's countenance fell. And where is he now? They say he has gone to Italy. Why, what is to do? No matter. When did he go? Tell me not that he went in such a storm as this. Here is a coil about Gerard Eliason, said Martin contemptuously. Then he lighted the candle. And seating himself coolly by the fire, proceeded to whip some fine silk round his bolstering at the place where the nick of the arrow frets it. I'll tell you, he said carelessly. Know you his brother Giles? A little misbegotten impole head and arms. Well, he came tearing over here on a mule and bawled out something. I was too far off to hear the creature's words but only its noise. Anyway, he started Gerard for as soon as he was gone. There was such crying and kissing and then Gerard went away. They do tell me he has gone to Italy. May hop you know where that is, for I don't. Derrick's countenance fell lower and lower at this account. There was no flaw in it. A cunninger man than Martin would perhaps have told a lie to many and raised suspicion. But Martin did his task well. He only told the one false who he was bad to tell and of his own head invented nothing. Mate, said Derrick, I doubt he speaks sooth. I told the burgamaster how to it be. He met the dwarf galloping Peter Boyskine's mule from Sevenburgan. They have sent that empty Gerard, says he. So then Gerard is at Sevenburgan. Ah, Master, says I. It is too late now. I never thought of Sevenburgan before, instead of wasting our time hunting all the odd corners of Tergove for those cursed parchment that we shall never find till we find the man that took him. If he was at Sevenburgan, quoth I, and they sent the dwarf to him, it must have been to warn him we are after him. He is leagues away by now, quoth I. Confound that chalk-faced girl. She has outwitted us bearded men, and so I told the burgamaster, but he would not hear reason. A wet jerk in a piece that is all we shall get makes by this job. Martin grinned coolly in Derrick's face. However, added the latter, to content the burgamaster, we will search the house. Martin turned grave directly. This change of countenance did not escape Derrick. He reflected a moment. Watch outside two of you one on each side of the house that no one jumped from the upper windows. The rest, come with me. And he took the candle and mounted the stairs, followed by three of his comrades. Martin was left alone. The stout soldier hung his head. All had gone so well at first, and now this fatal turn. Suddenly it occurred to him that all was not yet lost. Gerard must be either in Peter's room or Margaret's. They were not so very high from the ground. Gerard would leap out. Derrick had left a man below, but what then? For half a minute Gerard and he would be two to one, and in that brief space what might not be done? Martin then held the back door ajar and watched. The light shone in Peter's room. Curse the fool, said he. Is he going to let them take him like a girl? The light now passed into Margaret's bedroom. Still no window was opened. Had Gerard intended to escape, that way he would not have waited till the men were in the room. Martin saw that at once and left the door and came to the footstare and listened. He began to think Gerard must have escaped by the window while all the men were in the house. The longer the silence continued, the stronger grew this conviction. But it was suddenly and rudely dissipated. Faint cries issued from the inner bedroom, Margaret's. They have taken him, groaned Martin. They have got him! It now flashed across Martin's mind that if they took Gerard away his life was not worth a button and that if evil befell him Margaret's heart would break. He cast his eyes wildly round like some savage beast in an escape and in a twinkling formed a resolution terribly characteristic of those iron times and of a soldier driven to bay. He stepped to each door in turn and imitating Dirich Brower's voice said sharply, Watch the window! He then quietly closed and bolted both doors. He then took up his bow and six arrows, one he fitted to his string, the others he put into his quiver. His knife he placed upon a chair behind him, the hilt towards him and there he waited at the foot of the stair with the calm determination to slay those four men or be slain by them. Two he knew he could dispose of by his arrows ere they could get near him and Gerard and he must take their chance hand to hand with the remaining pair. Besides, he had seen men panic-stricken by a sudden attack of this sort, should Brower and his men hesitate but an instant before closing with him he should shoot three instead of two and then the odds would be on the right side. He had not long to wait. The heavy steps sounded in Margaret's room and came nearer and nearer. The light also approached and voices. Martin's heart stout as it was beat hard to hear men coming thus to their death and perhaps to his, more likely so than not for four is long odds in a battlefield of ten feet square and Gerard might be bound perhaps and powerless to help. But this man whom we have seen shaken his shoes at Giles Alanton never wavered in his awful moment of real danger but stood there, his body all braced for combat and his eye glowing equally ready to take life and lose it. Desperate game to win which was exile instant and for life and to lose it was to die that moment upon that flaw he stood on. Dirich Brower and his men found Peter in his first sleep. They opened his cupboards. They ran their knives into an alligator he had nailed to his wall. They looked under his bed. It was a large room and apparently full of hiding places but they found no Gerard. Then they went on to Margaret's room and the very sight of it was discouraging. It was small and bare and not a cupboard in it. There was, however, a large fireplace and chimney. Dirich's eye fell on these directly. Here they found the beauty of Sevenburgen sleeping on an old chest not a foot eye and no attempt made to cover it. But the sheets were snowy white and so was Margaret's own linen and there she lay, looking like a lily fallen into a rut. Presently she awoke and sat up in bed like one amazed. Then seeing the men began to scream faintly and pray for mercy. She made Dirich Brower ashamed of his errand. Here is a to-do, said he, a little confused. We are not going to hurt you, my pretty maid. Lie you still and shut your eyes and think of your wedding night while I look up this chimney to see if Master Gerard is there. Gerard? In my room? Why not? They say that you and he... Cruel! You know they have driven him away from me driven him from his native place. This is a blind. You are thieves. You are wicked men. You are not men of Sevenburgen or you would know Margaret Brandt better than to look for her lover in this room of all others in the world. O brave, four great hulking men to come armed to the teeth to insult one poor honest girl. The women that live in your own houses must be naught or you would respect them too much to insult a girl of good character. There, come away before we hear worse, said Dirich hastily, he is not in the chimney. Plaster will mend what a cudgel breaks but a woman's tongue is a double-edged dagger and a girl is a woman with her mother's milk still in her. And he beat a hasty retreat. I told the burgamaster how it would be. End of chapter 14 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 15 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Where is the woman that cannot act apart? Where is she who will not do it and do it well to save the man she loves? Nature on these great occasions comes to the aid of the simplest of the sex and teaches her to throw dust in Solomon's eyes. The men had no sooner retired than Margaret stepped out of bed and opened the long chest on which she had been lying down in her skirt and petticoat and stockings and nightdress overall and put the lid, bed clothes and all against the wall, then glided to the door and listened. The footsteps died away through her father's room and down the stairs. Now in that chest there was a peculiarity that it was almost impossible for a stranger to detect. A part of the boarding of the room had been broken and Gerard, being applied to make it look neater and being short of materials, had ingeniously soared away a space sufficient just to admit Margaret's swaddy son bed. And with the materials thus acquired he had repaired the whole room. As for the bed or chest it really rested on the rafters a foot below the boards. Consequently it was full two feet deep though it looked scarce one. All was quiet. Margaret kneeled and gave thanks to heaven. Then she glided from the door and leaned over the chest and whispered tenderly, Gerard! Gerard did not reply. Then she whispered a little louder Gerard! All is safe! Thank heaven! You may rise, but oh be cautious! Gerard made no reply. She laid her hand upon his shoulder. Gerard! No reply. Oh, what is this? She cried and her hands ran wildly over his face and his bosom. She took him by the shoulder. She shook him. She lifted him but he escaped from her trembling hands and fell back, not like a man but like a body. A great dread fell on her. The lid had been down. She had lain upon it. The men had been some time in the room. With all the strength of frenzy she tore him out of the chest. She bore him in her arms to the window. She dashed the window open. The sweet air came in. She laid him in it and in the moonlight. His face was the colour of ashes. His body was all limp and motionless. She felt his heart, horror. It was as still as the rest. Horror of horrors. She had stifled him with her own body. The mind cannot all at once believe so great and sudden and strange a calamity. Gerard, who had got alive into that chest scarce five minutes ago, how could he be dead? She called him by all the endearing names that heart could think or tongue could frame. She kissed him and fondled him and coaxed him and implored him to speak to her. No answer to words of love such as she had never uttered to him before nor thought she could utter. Then the poor creature trembling all over began to say over that ashy face little foolish things that were once terrible and pityable. Oh, Gerard, I am very sorry you are dead. I am very sorry I have killed you. Forgive me for not letting the men take you. It would have been better than this. Oh, Gerard, I am very, very sorry for what I have done. Then she began suddenly to rave. No, no, such things can't be or there is no God. It is monstrous. How can my Gerard be dead? How can I have killed my Gerard? I love him. Oh, God, you know how I love him. He does not. I never told him. If he knew my heart, he would speak to me. He would not be so deaf to his poor Margaret. It is all a trick to make me cry out and betray him. But no, I love him too well for that. I'll choke first. And she seized her own throat to check her wild desire to scream in her terror and anguish. If he would but say one word, oh, Gerard, don't die without a word. Have mercy on me and scold me, but speak to me. If you are angry with me, scold me, curse me, I deserve it. The idiot that killed the man she loved better than herself. Ah, I am a murderous, the worst in all the world. Help, help, I have murdered him. Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. She tore her hair and uttered shriek after shriek so wild, so piercing they fell like a knell upon the ears of Birich Brauer and his men. All started to their feet and looked at one another. CHAPTER 16 OF THE CLOISTER AND THE HEARTH by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Martin Wittenhagen, standing at the foot of the stairs with his arrow drawn nearly to the head and his knife behind him, was struck with amazement to see the men come back without Gerard. He lowered his bow and looked open-mouthed at them. They, for their part, were equally puzzled at the attitude they had caught him in. Why, mates, was the old fellow making ready to shoot at us? Stuff, said Martin, recovering his stolid composure. I was but trying my new string. There I'll unstring my bow if you think that. Said Birich suspiciously. There is something more in you than I understand. Put a log on and let us dry our hides a bit. There we go. A blazing fire was soon made and the men gathered round it and their clothes and long hair were soon smoking from the cheerful blaze. Then it was that the shrieks were heard in Margaret's room. They all started up and one of them seized the candle and ran up the steps that led to the bedrooms. Martin rose hastily too and, being confused by these sudden screams and apprehending danger from the man's curiosity, tried to prevent him from going there. At this, Birich threw his arms round him from behind and called on the others to keep him. The man that had the candle got clear away and all the rest fell upon Martin with a long and fierce struggle in the course of which there were more than once all rolling on the floor with Martin in the middle. They succeeded in mastering the old Samson and binding him hand and foot with a rope they had brought for Gerard. Martin groaned aloud. He saw the man had made his way to Margaret's room during the struggle and here was he powerless. I grind your teeth, you old rogue! said Birich, panting with the struggle. You shan't use them. It's my belief, mates, that our lives were scarce safe while this old fellow's bones were free. He makes me think this Gerard is not far off put in another. No such luck! replied Birich. Hello, mates! Jorian Cattle is a long time in that girl's bedroom. Best go and see after him, some of us! The rude laugh caused by this remark had hardly subsided when hasty footsteps were heard running along overhead. Oh, here he comes at last! Well, Jorian, what is to do now up there? End of chapter 16 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 17 The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Jorian Cattle went straight to Margaret's room and there to his infinite surprise he found the man he had been in search of pale and motionless, his head in Margaret's lap and she kneeling over him in peace now and stricken to stone. Her eyes were dilated yet glazed and she neither saw the light nor heard the man nor cared for anything on earth but the white face in her lap. Jorian stood awestruck, the candle shaking in his hand. Why, where was he then all the time? Margaret heeded him not. Jorian went to the empty chest and inspected it. He began to comprehend. The girl's dumb and frozen despair moved him. This is a sorry sight, said he. It is our black night's work, all for a few skins. Better have gone with us than so. She is past answering me, poor wretch. Stop! Let us try whether. He took down a little round mirror no bigger than his hand and put it to Gerard's mouth and nostrils and held it there. When he withdrew it, it was dull. There is life in him, said Jorian Cattle to himself. Margaret caught the words instantly though only muttered and it was as if a statue should start into life and passion. She rose and flung her arms round Jorian's neck. Oh, bless the tongue that tells me so! And she clasped the great rough fellow again and again, eagerly, almost fiercely. There, there, let us lay him warm, said Jorian, and in a moment he raised Gerard and laid him on the bed-clothes. Then he took out a flask he carried and filled his hand twice with she-damse and flung it sharply each time in Gerard's face. The pungent liquor cooperated with his recovery. He gave a faint sigh. Oh, never was sound so joyful to human ear. She flew towards him, but then stopped, quivering for fear she should hurt him. She had lost all confidence in herself. That is right. Let him alone, said Jorian. Don't go cuddling him as you did me, or you'll drive his breath back again. Let him alone, he is sure to come too. It isn't like as if he was an old man. Gerard sighed deeply and a faint streak of color stalled to his lips. Jorian made for the door. He had hardly reached it when he found his legs seized from behind. It was Margaret. She curled round his knees like a serpent and kissed his hand and phoned on him. You won't tell. You have saved his life. You have not the heart to thrust him back into his grave to undo your own good work. No, no, it is not the first time I've done you to a good turn. To as I told you in the church whether we had to take him. Besides, what is Dirich Brower to me? I'll see him hang there, I'll tell him. But I wish you'd tell me where the parchment's are. There are a hundred crowns offered for them. That would be a good windfall for my Joan and the children, you know. Ah, they shall have those hundred crowns. What, other things in the house? Asked Jorian eagerly. No, but I know where they are and by God and Saint Bavon I swear you shall have them to-morrow. Come to me for them when you will. But come alone. I were made else. What, share the hundred crowns with Dirich Brower? And now may my bones rot in my skin if I let a soul know the poor boy is here. He then ran off, lest by staying longer he should excite suspicion and have them all after him. And Margaret knelt, quivering from head to foot and prayed beside Gerard. And for Gerard. What is to do? replied Jorian to Dirich Brower's query. Why, we have scared the girl out of her wits. She was in a kind of fit. We had better all go and doctor her then. Oh, yes, and frighten her into the churchyard. Her father is a doctor and I have roused him and set him to bring her round. Let us see the fire, will you? His off-hand way disarmed all suspicion and soon after the party agreed that the kitchen of the three kings was much warmer than Peter's house and they departed having first untied Martin. Take note, mate, that I was right and the Burger Master wrong, said Dirich Brower at the door. I said we should be too late to catch him and we were too late. Thus Gerard in one terrible night grazed the prison and the grave. And how did he get clear at last? Not by his cunningly contrived hiding-place, nor by Margaret's ready wit, but by a good impulse in one of his captors by the bit of humanity left in a somewhat reckless fellow's heart, aided by his desire of gain. So mixed and seemingly incongruous are human motives, so short-sighted are shrewdest councils. They whose moderate natures or gentle fates keep them in life's passage from the fierce extremes of joy and anguish our nature is capable of are perhaps the best and certainly the happiest of mankind. But to such readers I should try in vain to convey what bliss unspeakable settled now upon these persecuted lovers. Even to those who have joyed greatly and greatly suffered, my feeble art can present but a pale reflection of Margaret's and Gerard's ecstasy. To sit and see a beloved face come back from the grave to the world, to health and beauty by swift gradations, to see the roses return to the loved cheek, love's glance to the loved eye and his words to the loved mouth, this was Margaret's a joy to balance years of sorrow. It was Gerard's to awake from a trance and find his head pillowed on Margaret's arm to hear the woman he adored, murmur new words of eloquent love and shower tears and tender kisses and caresses on him. He never knew till this sweet moment how ardently, how tenderly she loved him. He thanked his enemies. They wreathed their arms sweetly round each other and trouble and danger seemed a world and age behind them. They called each other husband and wife. Were they not solemnly betrothed and had they not stood before the altar together was not the blessing of Holy Church upon their union, her curse on all who would part them. But as no woman's nerves can bear with impunity so terrible a strain presently Margaret turned faint and sank on Gerard's shoulder, smiling feebly but quite, quite unstrong. Then Gerard was anxious and would seek assistance but she held him with a gentle grasp and implored him not to leave her for a moment. While I can lay my hand on you I feel you are safe, not else. Foolish Gerard, nothing ails me. I am weak, dearest, but happy. Oh, so happy! Then it was Gerard's turn to support that dear head with its great waves of hair flowing loose over him and nurse her and soothe her, quivering on his bosom with soft, encouraging words and murmurs of love and gentle caresses. Sweetest of all her charms is a woman's weakness to a manly heart. Poor things! They were happy. Tomorrow they must part. But that was nothing to them now. They had seen death and all other troubles seemed light as air. While there is life there is hope. While there is hope there is joy. Separation for a year or two. What was it to them who were so young and had caught a glimpse of the grave? The future was bright. The present was heaven. So passed the blissful hours. Alas! Their innocence ran other risks besides the prison and the grave. They were in most danger from their own hearts and their inexperience. Now that visible danger there was none. End of chapter 17 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 18 of The Cloister and the Heart by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Gisbrecht van Svieten could not sleep all night for anxiety. He was afraid of thunder and lightning or he would have made one of the party that searched Peter's house. As soon as the storm ceased altogether he crept downstairs, saddled his mule and rode to the three kings at Sevenbergen. There he found his men sleeping. Some on the chairs, some on the tables, some on the floor. He roused them furiously and heard the story of their unsuccessful search interlarded with praises of their zeal. Fool to let you go without me! cried the burgo-master. My life on't he was there all the time. Looked she under the girl's bed? No, there was no room for a man there. How know you that if you look not, snalled Gisbrecht, you should have looked under her bed and in it too and sounded all the panels with your knives. Come now, get up and I shall show you how to search. Dirich Brower got up and shook himself. If you find him call me a horse and no man. In a few minutes Peter's house was again surrounded. The fiery old man left his mule in the hands of Jorian Catelyn and with Dirich Brower and the others entered the house. The house was empty, not a creature to be seen, not even Peter. They went upstairs and then suddenly one of the men gave a shout and pointed through Peter's window which was open. The others looked and there at some little distance walking quietly across the fields with Margaret and Martin was the man they sought. Gisbrecht with an exulting yell descended the stairs and flung himself on his mule and he and his men set off in hot pursuit. End of chapter 18 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 19 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Tom Denham Gerard warned by recent peril rose before daybreak and waked Martin. The old soldier was astonished. He thought Gerard had escaped by the window last night. Being consulted as to the best way for him to leave the country in elude pursuit, he said there was but one road safe. I must guide you through the great forest to a bridal road I know of. This will take you speedily to a hostelry where there will lend you a swift horse and then a day's gallop will take you out of Holland. But let us start there the folk here quit their beds. It was but a furlong and a half from the forest. They started Martin with his bow and three arrows for it was Thursday. Gerard with nothing but a stout oak staff Peter gave him for the journey. Margaret pinned up her curdle and farthing-gale for the road was wet. Peter went as far as his garden hedge with them and then with more emotion than he often showed on passing events gave the young man his blessing. The sun was peeping above the horizon as they crossed the stony field and made for the wood. They had crossed about half when Margaret, who kept nervously looking back every now and then uttered a cry and following her instinct began to run towards the wood screaming with terror all the way. Giesbrecht and his men were in hot pursuit. Resistance would have been madness. Martin and Gerard followed Margaret's example. The pursuers gained slightly on them but Martin kept shouting only win the wood, only win the wood. They had too good a start for the men on foot and their heart bounded with hope at Martin's words for the great trees seemed now to stretch their branches like friendly arms towards them and their leaves like a screen. But an unforeseen danger attacked them. The fiery old burger master flung himself on his mule and spurring him to a gallop he headed not his own men only but the fugitives. His object was to cut them off. The old man came galloping in a semi-circle and got on the edge of the wood right in front of Gerard. The others might escape for all he cared. Margaret shrieked and tried to protect Gerard by clasping him but he shook her off without ceremony. Giesbrecht in his order forgot that hunted animals turn on the hunter and that two men can hate and two can long to kill the thing they hate. Instead of attempting to dodge him as the burger master made sure he would Gerard flew right at him with a savage exulting cry and struck at him with all his heart and soul and strength. The oak staff came down on Giesbrecht's face with a frightful crash and laid him under his mule's tail beating the devil's tattoo with his heels, his face beating and his collar spattered with blood. The next moment the three were in the wood. The yell of dismay and vengeance that burst from Giesbrecht's men at that terrible blow which fell their leader told the fugitives that it was now a race for life or death. Why run cried Gerard panting you have your bow and I have this and he shook his bloody staff boy! rode Martin the gallows follow me and he fled into the wood soon they heard a cry like a pack of hounds opening on site of the game the men were in the wood and saw them flitting amongst the trees Margaret moaned and panted as she ran and Gerard clenched his teeth and grasped his staff the next minute they came to a stiff hazel coppice Martin dashed into it and shouldered the young wood aside as if it was standing corn ere they had gone fifty yards in it they came to four blind paths Martin took one Ben low he said and half creeping they glided along presently their path was again protected with other little tortuous paths they took one of them it seemed to lead back but it soon took a turn and after a while brought them to a thick pine grove where the walking was good and hard there were no paths here and the young fir trees were so thick you could not see three yards before your nose when they had gone some way in this Martin sat down and having learned in war to lose all impression of danger with the danger itself took a piece of bread and a slice of ham out of his wallet and began quietly to eat his breakfast the young ones looked at him with dismay he replied to their looks all seven bergen could not find you now you will lose your purse Gerard long before you get to Italy is that the way to carry a purse Gerard looked and there was a large triangular purse entangled by its chains to the buckle and strap of his wallet this is none of mine said he what is in it I wonder and he tried to detach it but in passing through the copis it had become inextricably entangled in his strap and buckle it seems loath to leave me said Gerard and he had to cut it loose with his knife the purse on examination proved to be well provided with silver coins of all sizes but its bloated appearance was greatly owing to a number of pieces of brown paper folded and doubled a light burst on Gerard why it must be that old thief's and see stuffed with paper to deceive the world the wonder was how the burger master's purse came on Gerard they hit at last upon the right solution the purse must have been at Gisbrecht saddle-bow and Gerard rushing at his enemy had unconsciously torn it away thus felling his enemy and robbing him with a single gesture Gerard was delighted at this feat but Margaret was uneasy throw it away Gerard or let Martin take it back already they call you a thief I cannot bear it throw it away give it him back not a stiver this is spoiled lawfully one in battle from an enemy is it not Martin why of course send him back the brown paper and you will but the purse or the coin that were a sin oh Gerard said Martin you are going to a distant land we need the goodwill of heaven how can we hope for that if we take what is not ours but Gerard saw it in a different light it is heaven that gives it me by a miracle and I shall cherish it accordingly said this pious youth thus the favoured people spoiled the Egyptians and were blessed take your own way said Margaret Humbly you are wiser than I am you are my husband added she in a low murmuring voice is it for me to gain say you these humble words from Margaret who till that day had held the whip and rather surprised Martin for the moment they recurred to him some time afterwards and surprised him less Gerard kissed her tenderly in return for her wife like docility and they pursued their journey hand in hand Martin leading the way into the depths of the huge forest the farther they went the more absolutely secure from pursuit they felt indeed the townspeople never ventured so far as this into the trackless part of the forest impetuous natures repent quickly Gerard was no sooner out of all danger than his conscience began to prick him Martin would I had not struck quite so hard whom oh let that pass he is cheap served Martin I saw his grey hairs as my stick fell on him I doubt they will not from my sight this while Martin grunted with contempt who spares a badger for his grey hairs the greyer your enemy is the older and the older the craftier and the craftier the better for a little killing killing killing Martin speak not of killing and Gerard shook all over I am much mistook if you have not said Martin cheerfully now heaven forbid the old vagabond skull cracked like a war-nut ha ha heaven and the saints forbid it he rolled off his mule like a stone shot out of a cart said I to myself there is one wiped out and the iron old soldier grinned ruthlessly Gerard fell on his knees and began to pray for his enemies life but this Martin lost his patience here's mummery what you that set up for learning know you not that a wise man never strikes his enemy but to kill him and what is all this coil about killing of old men if it had been a young one now with the joys of life waiting for him wine women and pillage but an old fellow at the edge of the grave why not shove him in go he must today or tomorrow place for grey beards now if ever I should be so miss chancey as to last so long as Giesbrecht did and have to go on a mule's legs instead of Martin Wittenagens and a back like this striking the wood of his bow instead of this striking the string I'll thank and bless any young fellow who will knock me on the head as you have done that old shopkeeper malison on his memory oh colpamere colpamere cried Gerard and smote upon his breast look there cried Martin to Margaret scornfully he is a priest at heart still and when he is not in ire Saint Paul watermilks up Tosh Martin cried Margaret reproachfully then she wreathed her arms around Gerard and comforted him with the double magic of a woman's sense and a woman's voice sweetheart murmur she you forget you went not a step out of the way to harm him who hunted you to your death you fled from him it was he who spurred on you then did you strike but in self-defense and a single blow and with that which was in your hand malice had drawn knife or struck again and again how often have men been smitten with staves not one but many blows yet no lives lost if then your enemy has fallen it is through his own malice not yours and by the will of God bless you Margaret bless you for thinking so yes but beloved one if you have had the misfortune to kill that wicked man the more need is there that you fly with haste from Holland oh let us on nay Margaret said Gerard I fear not man's vengeance thanks to Martin here and this thick wood only him I fear whose eye pierces the forest and reads the heart of man if I but struck in self-defense as well but if in hate he may bid the avenger of blood follow me to Italy to Italy eye to earth's remotest bounds hush said Martin peevishly I can't hear for your chat what is it do you hear nothing Margaret my ears are getting old Margaret listened and presently she heard a tuneful sound like a single stroke upon a deep ringing bell she described it so to Martin nay I heard it said he and so did I said Gerard it was beautiful ah there it is again how sweetly it blends with the air it is a long way off it is before us is it not no no the echoes of this wood confound the ear of a stranger it comes from the pine grove what the one we passed why Martin is this anything you look pale wonderful said Martin with a sickly sneer he asks me is it anything come on on at any rate let us reach a better place than this a better place for what to stand at bay Gerard said Martin gravely and die like soldiers killing three for one killing three for one what's that sound it is the Avenger of Blood oh Martin save him oh heaven be merciful what new mysterious peril is this girl it's a bloodhound end of chapter 19 recording by Tom Denham chapter 20 of The Cloister and the Half by Charles Reid this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Tom Denham the courage like the talent of common men runs in a narrow groove take them but an inch out of that and they are done Martin's courage was perfect as far as it went he had met and baffled many dangers in the course of his rude life and these familiar dangers he could face with spartan fortitude almost with indifference but he had never been hunted by a bloodhound nor had he ever seen that brute's unearing instinct baffled by human cunning here then a sense of the supernatural combined with novelty to unsteal his heart after going a few steps he leaned on his bow and energy and hope oozed out of him Gerard to whom the danger appeared slight in proportion as it was distant urged him to flight what avails it said Martin sadly if we get clear of the wood we shall die cheap here hard by we may die dear alas good Martin cried Gerard despair not so quickly there must be some way to escape oh Martin cried Margaret what if we were to part company Gerard's life alone is forfeit is there no way to draw the pursuit on us twain and let him go safe girl you know not the bloodhound's nature he is not on this man's track or that he is on the track of blood my life on they've taken him to where Geesebrecht fell and from the dead man's blood to the man that shed it that cursed hound will lead them though Gerard should run through an army or swim the moors and again he leaned on his bow and his head sank the hounds mellow the voice rang through the wood a cry more tunable was never hallowed too nor cheered with horn in crete, in sparta or in thessaly strange that things beautiful should be terrible and deadly the eye of the boa constrictor while fascinating its prey is lovely no royal crown holds such a jewel it is a ruby with the emerald green light playing ever upon it yet the deer that sees it loses all power of motion and trembles and awaits his death and even so to compare hearing with sight this sweet and mellow sound seemed to fascinate Martin Wittenhagen he stood uncertain bewildered and unnerved the monorad was little better now Martin's last words had daunted him he had struck an old man and shed his blood and by means of that very blood blood's four-footed avenger was on his track was not the finger of heaven in this whilst the men were thus benumbed the woman's brain was all activity the man she loved was in danger lend me your knife said she to Martin he gave it her but twill be little use in your hands said he then Margaret did a sly thing she stepped behind Gerard and furtively drew the knife across her arm and made it bleed freely then stooping smeared her hose and shoes and still as the blood trickled she smeared them but so adroitly that neither Gerard nor Martin saw then she seized the soldier's arm come be a man she said and let this end take us to some thick place where numbers will not avail our foes I am going said Martin sulkily hurry avails not we cannot shun the hound and the place is hard by and turning to the left he led the way as men go to execution he soon brought them to a thick hazel copis like the one that had favoured their escape in the morning there he said he this is but a furlong broad but it will serve our turn what are we to do get through this and wait on the other side then as they come straggling through shoot three, knock two on the head and the rest will kill us is that all you can think of? said Gerard that is all then Martin Wittenhagen I take the lead for you have lost your head come can you obey so young a man as I am oh yes Martin cried Margaret do not gain say Gerard he is wiser than his years Martin yielded a sullen ascent do then as you see me do said Gerard and drawing his huge knife he cut at every step a hazel shoot or two close by the ground and turning round twisted them breast high behind him among the standing shoots Martin did the same but with a dogged hopeless air when they had thus painfully travelled through the greater part of the coppice the bloodhounds deep bay came nearer and nearer less and less musical louder and sterner Margaret trembled Martin went down on his stomach and listened I hear a horse's feet no said Gerard I doubt it is a mules that cursed Gisbrecht is still alive none other would follow me up so bitterly never strike your enemy but to slay him said Martin gloomily I'll hit harder this time if heaven gives me the chance said Gerard at last they worked through the coppice and there was an open wood the trees were large but far apart and no escape possible that way and now with the hounds bay mingled a score of voices hooping and hallowing the whole village is out after us said Martin I cannot said Gerard listen Martin I have made the track smooth to the dog but rough to the men and that we may deal with them apart thus the hound will gain on the men and as soon as he comes out of the coppice we must kill him the hound there are more than one I hear but one I but one speaks the others run mute but let the leading hound lose the scent I'll give tongue there will be two dogs at least or devils in dog's hides then we must kill two instead of one the moment they are dead into the coppice again and go right back that is a good thought Gerard said Martin plucking apart hush the men are in the wood Gerard now give his orders in a whisper stand you with your bow by the side of the coppice there in the ditch I will go but a few yards to your oak tree and hide behind it the dogs will follow me and as they come out shoot as many as you can the rest will I brain as they come round the tree Martin's eye flashed they took up their places the hooping and hallowing came closer and closer and soon even the rustling of the young wood was heard and every now and then the unerring bloodhound gave a single bay it was terrible the branches rustling nearer and nearer and the inevitable struggle for life and death coming on minute by minute and that death knell leading it a trembling hand was laid on Gerard's shoulder it made him start violently strung up as he was Martin says if we are forced to part company make for that high ash tree we came in by yes yes yes but go back for heaven's sake don't come here all out in the open she ran back towards Martin but ere she could get to him suddenly a huge dog burst out of the corpus and stood erect a moment Margaret cowered with fear but he never noticed her sent was to him what sight is to us he lowered his nose an instant and the next moment with an awful yell sprung straight at Gerard's tree and rolled head over heels dead as a stone literally spitted by an arrow from the bow that twang'd beside the corpus in Martin's hand that same moment out came another hound and smelt his dead comrade Gerard rushed out at him but ere he could use his cudgel a streak of white lightning seemed to strike the hound and he groveled in the dust wounded desperately but not killed and howling piteously Gerard had not time to dispatch him the corpus rustled too near it seemed alive pointing wildly to Martin to go back Gerard ran a few yards to the right then crept cautiously into the thick corpus just as three men burst out these had headed their comrades considerably the rest were following at various distances Gerard crawled back almost on all falls instinct taught Martin and Margaret to do the same upon their line of retreat thus within the distance of a few yards the pursuers and pursued were passing one another upon opposite tracks a loud cry announced the discovery of the dead and wounded hound then followed a bubble of voices still swelling as fresh pursuers reached the spot the hunters, as usual on a surprise were wasting time and the hunted ones were making the most of it I hear no more hounds whispered Martin to Margaret and he was himself again it was Margaret's turn to tremble and despair oh, why did we part with Gerard? they will kill my Gerard and I not near him nay, nay the head to catch him is not on their shoulders you about him meet us at the ashtree and so I did bless you Martin for thinking of that to the ashtree I, but with less noise they were now nearly at the edge of the corpus when suddenly they heard hooping and hallowing behind them the men had satisfied themselves the fugitives were in the corpus and were beating back no matter whispered Martin to his trembling companion we shall have time to win clear and slip out of sight by hard running ah he stopped suddenly just as he was going to burst out of the brushwood his eye caught a figure keeping sentinel it was seated on his mule a bloody bandage was across his nose the bridge of which was broken but over this his eyes peered keenly and it was plain by their expression he had heard the fugitives rustle and was looking out for them Martin muttered a terrible oath and cautiously strung his bow then with equal caution fitted his last arrow to the string Margaret put her hands to her face but said nothing she saw this man must die or Gerard after the first impulse she peered through her fingers her heart panting to her throat the bow was raised and the deadly arrow steadily drawn to its head when at that moment an active figure leaped on Gisbrek from behind so swiftly it was like a hawk swooping on a pigeon a kerchief went over the burger master in the turn of the hand his head was muffled in it and he was whirled from his seat and fell heavily upon the ground where he lay groaning with terror and Martin jumped down after him his Martin Martin Martin and Margaret came out the former open mouth crying now fly fly while they're all in the thicket we are saved at this crisis when safety seemed at hand as fate would have it who had born up so bravely till now began to succumb partly from loss of blood oh my beloved fly she gasped leave me for I am faint no no cried Gerard death together or safety ah the mule mount her you and I'll run by your side in a moment Martin was on Giesbrecht's mule and Gerard raised the fainting girl in his arms and placed her on the saddle and relieved Martin of his bow help treason murder murder shrieked Giesbrecht suddenly rising on his arms science cur roared Gerard and trod him down again by the throat as men crush an adder now have you got her firm then fly for our lives for our lives but even as the mule urged suddenly by Martin's heels scattered the flints with his hind hoofs he got into a canter and even as Gerard withdrew his foot from Giesbrecht's throat to run Brower and his five men who had come back for orders and heard the Burgermaster's cries burst roaring out of the coppice on them End of Chapter 20 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 21 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording Recording by Tom Denham Speech is the familiar vent of human thoughts but there are emotions so simple and overpowering that they rush out not in words but in eloquent sounds At such moments man seems to lose his characteristics and to be merely one of the higher animals for these when greatly agitated ejaculate though they cannot speak There was something terrible and truly animal both in the roar of triumph with which the pursuers burst out of the thicket on our fugitives and the sharp cry of terror with which these latter darted away The pursuers' hands clutched the empty air scarce two feet behind them as they fled for life Confused for a moment like lions that miss their spring Dirich and his men let Gerard and Amul put ten yards between them Then they flew after with uplifted weapons They were sure of catching them for this was not the first time the parties had measured speed In the open ground they had gained visibly on the three this morning and now at last it was a fair race again to be settled by speed alone A hundred yards were covered in no time yet still there remained ten yards between the pursuers and the pursued This increase of speed since the morning puzzled Dirich Brauer The reason was this when three run in company the pace is that of the slowest of the three From Peter's house to the edge of the forest Gerard ran Margaret's pace but now he ran his own for the mule was fleet and could have left them all far behind Moreover youth and chaste living began to tell Daylight grew imperceptibly between the hunted ones and the hunters Then Dirich made a desperate effort and gained two yards but in a few seconds Gerard had stolen them quietly back The pursuers began to curse Martin heard and his face lighted up Courage Gerard Courage brave lad, they are struggling It was so Dirich was now headed by one of his men and another dropped into the rear altogether They came to a rising round, not sharp but long and hear youth and grit and sober living told more than ever ere he reached the top Dirich's 40 years weighed him down like 40 bullets Our cake is dough he gasped take him dead if you can't alive and he left running and followed at a foot's pace Jorian Cattle tailed off next and then another and so one by one Gerard ran them all to a standstill except one who kept on staunch as a bloodhound though losing ground every minute His name if I am not mistaken was Eric Wooverman followed by him they came to a rise in the wood shorter but much steeper than the last hand on main cried Martin Gerard obeyed and the mule helped him up the hill faster even than he was running before at the sight of this maneuver Dirich's man lost heart and being now fully 80 yards behind Gerard and rather more than that in advance of his nearest comrade he pulled up short and in obedience to Dirich's order took down his crossbow leveled it deliberately and just as the trio was sinking out of sight over the crest of the hill sent the bolt whizzing among them there was a cry of dismay and next moment as if a thunderbolt had fallen on them they were all lying on the ground mule and all End of chapter 21 Recording by Tom Denham Chapter 22 of The Cloister and the Hearth by Charles Reid This LibriVox recording is in the public domain Recording by Tom Denham the effect was so sudden and magical that the shooter himself was stupefied for an instant then he hailed his companions to join him in effecting the capture and himself set off up the hill but ere he had got halfway up rose the figure of Martin Wittenhagen with a bent bow in his hand Eric Wooverman no sooner saw him in this attitude than he darted behind a tree and made himself as small as possible Martin's skill with that weapon was well known and the slain dog was a keen reminder of it Wooverman peered round the bark cautiously there was the arrow's point still aimed at him he saw it shine he dared not move from his shelter when he had been at peep-bow some minutes his companions came up in great force then with a scornful laugh Martin vanished and presently was heard ride off on the mule all the men run up together the high ground commanded a view of a narrow but almost interminable glade they saw Gerard and Margaret running along at a prodigious distance they looked like gnats and Martin galloping after them vente à terre the hunters were outwitted as well as outrun a few words will explain Martin's conduct we arrive at causes by noting coincidences yet now and then coincidences are deceitful as we have all seen a hare tumble over a briar just as the gun went off and so raise expectations then dash them to earth by scudding away untouched so the burger master's mule put her foot in a rabbit hole at or about the time the crossbow bolt whizzed innocuous over her head she fell and threw both her riders Gerard caught Margaret but was carried down by her weight and impetus and behold the soil was strewed with dramatic person eye the docile mule was up again directly and stood trembling Martin was next and looking round saw there was but one in pursuit on this he made the young lovers fly on foot while he checked the enemy as I have recorded he now galloped after his companions and when after a long race he caught them he instantly put Gerard and Margaret on the mule and ran by their side till his breath failed then took his turn to ride and so in rotation thus the runner was always fresh and long ere they relaxed their speed all sound and trace of them was hopelessly lost to Dirich and his men these latter went crestfallen back to look after their chief and their winged bloodhound end of chapter 22 recording by Tom Denham chapter 23 of The Cloister and the Half by Charles Reid this LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Tom Denham life and liberty while safe are little thought of for why they are matters of course endangered they are rated at their real value in this too they are like sunshine whose beauty men notice not at noon when it is greatest but towards evening when it lies in flakes of topaz under shady elms yet it is feebler then but gloom lies beside it and contrast reveals its fire thus Gerard and Margaret though they started at every leaf that rustled louder than its fellows glowed all over with joy and thankfulness as they glided among the friendly trees in safety and deep tranquil silence baying dogs and brutal voices yet ringing in their minds ears but presently Gerard found stains of blood on Margaret's ankles Martin, Martin help! they have wounded her the crossbow and Margaret smiling to reassure him I am not wounded nor hurt at all but what is it then in heaven's name cried Gerard in great agitation scold me not then and Margaret blushed did I ever scold you? no dear Gerard well then Martin said it was blood those cruel dogs followed so I thought if I could but have a little blood on my shoe the dogs would follow me instead and let my Gerard wend free so I scratched my arm with Martin's knife forgive me whose else could I take yours Gerard ah no you forgive me said she besiegingly and lovingly and fawningly all in one we see this scratch first said Gerard choking with emotion there I thought so scratch I call it a cut a deep terrible cruel cut Gerard shuddered at the sight of it she might have done it with a bodkin said the soldier milk-soap that sickenes at the sight of a scratch and a little blood no no I could look on a sea of blood but not on hers oh Margaret how could you be so cruel Margaret smiled with love ineffable foolish Gerard murmured she to make so much of nothing and she flung the guilty arm round his neck as if I would not give all the blood in my heart for you let alone a few drops from my arm and with this under the sense of his recent danger she wept on his neck for pity and love and he wept with her and I must part from her he sobbed we too that love so dear one must be in Holland one in Italy army army army that this Margaret wept afresh patiently and silently instinct is never off its guard and with her unselfishness was an instinct to utter her present thoughts would be to add to Gerard's misery at parting so she wept in silence suddenly they emerged upon a beaten path and Martin stopped this is the bridal road I spoke of said he said and there away lies the hostelry Margaret and Gerard cast a scared look at one another come a step with me Martin whispered Gerard when he had drawn him aside he said to him in a broken voice good Martin watch over her for me she is my wife yet I leave her see Martin it was cold it was for my journey it is no use my asking her to take it she would not but you will for her will you not oh heaven and this is all I can do for her money but poverty is a curse you will not let her want for anything dear Martin the burger master silver is enough for me thou art a good lad Gerard the want nor harm shall come to her I care more for her little finger than for all the world and she were not to me even for thy sake would I be a father to her go with a stout heart and God be with thee going and coming and the rough soldier wrung Gerard's hand and turned his head away with unwonted feeling after a moment's silence he was forgoing back to Margaret but Gerard stopped him no good Martin prithee stay here behind this thicket and turn your head away from us while I oh Martin Martin by this means Gerard escaped a witness of his anguish at leaving her he loved and Martin escaped a piteous sight he did not see the poor young things kneel and renew before heaven those holy vows cruel men had interrupted he did not see them cling together like one and then try to part and fail and return to one another and cling again like drowning despairing creatures but he heard Gerard sob and sob at last there was a horse cry and feet pattered on the hard road he started up and there was Gerard running wildly with both hands clasped above his head in prayer and Margaret tottering back towards him with palms extended piteously as if for help and ashy cheek and eyes fixed on vacancy he caught her in his arms and spoke words of comfort to her but her mind could not take them in only at the sound of his voice she moaned and held him tight and trembled violently he got her on the mule and put his arm around her and so supporting her frame which from being strong like a bow had now turned all relaxed and powerless he took her slowly and sadly home she did not shed one tear nor speak one word at the edge of the wood he took her off the mule and bought her go across to her father's house she did as she was bid Martin to Rotterdam Severnburgen was too hot for him Gerard severed from her he loved went like one in a dream he hired a horse and a guide at the little hostelry and rode swiftly towards the German frontier but all was mechanical his senses felt blunted trees and houses and men moved by him like objects seen through a veil his companion spoke to him twice but he did not answer only once he cried out savagely shall we never be out of this hateful country? after many hours riding they came to the brow of a steep hill a small brook ran at the bottom Holt cried the guide and pointed across the valley here is Germany where? on to the side of the barn no need to ride down the hill I trow Gerard dismounted without a word and took the burgamaster's purse from his girdle while he opened it you will soon be out of this hateful country said his guide half silkily may hop the one you are going to may like you know better anyway though it be a church you have robbed they cannot take you once across that barn these words at another time would have earned the speaker an admonition or a cuff they fell on Gerard now like idle air he paid the lad in silence and descended the hill alone the brook was silvery it ran murmuring over little pebbles that glittered varnished by the clear water he sat down and looked stupidly at them then he drank of the brook he laid his hot feet and hands in it it was very cold it waked him he rose and taking a run leapt across it into Germany even as he touched the strange land he turned suddenly and looked back fair well ungrateful country he cried but for her it would cost me naught to leave you forever all my kith and kin and the mother that bore me and my playmate and my little native town fair well fatherland welcome the wide world Omnesolum Forty Patria and with these brave words in his mouth he drooped suddenly with arms and legs all weak and sat down and sobbed bitterly upon the foreign soil when the young exile had sat a while bowed down he rose and dashed the tears from his eyes like a man and not casting a single glance more behind him to weaken his heart stepped out into the wide world his love and heavy sorrow left no room in him for vulgar misgivings compared with rending himself from Margaret it seemed a small thing to go on foot to Italy in that rude age all nations meet in a convent so thanks to his good friends the monks and his own thirst of knowledge he could speak most of the language needed on that long road he said to himself I will soon be at Rome the sooner the better now after walking a good league he came to a place where four ways met being country roads and serpentine they had puzzled many an inexperienced neighbor passing from village to village Gerard took out a little dial Peter had given him and set it in the autumn sun and by this compass steered unhesitatingly for Rome experienced as a young swallow flying south but unlike the swallow wandering south alone end of chapter 23 recording by Tom Denham