CHAP. II—THE LOVERS.
Whilst the above occurred in the beer-house, a fair young girl waited Gerard's coming, her heart beating fast from apprehension that some evil had befallen him. To the headsman's son she was the angel of hope and consolation; she alone loved him,—partly, perhaps, because she knew that the world hated and despised him. Her love had braved her mother's censure, her neighbours' reproaches, her companions' sneers. Nay, more than this,—when they shouted after her, by way of scoff, the office of Gerard's father, or called her the headsman's bride, and the like, she rejoiced and was glad; for then she felt her love was noble and pure, and acceptable in the sight of God. For was she not, in loving Gerard, doing as she would be done by, comforting and supporting him whom all men oppressed and persecuted?
This poor girl, whose name was Lina, lived in a small apartment in the Vlier Street, with her old mother and her brother Franz, a good-hearted, hard-handed fellow, who worked like a slave for five days out of the seven, spent half a day in church, and a day and a half in the beer-house, where he drank and sang to his heart's content, and which he seldom left without a black eye. During the five days allotted to labour, there was not in Antwerp a more clever and indefatigable carpenter; and punctually each Saturday night he brought his mother a round sum from his earnings, wherefore the old woman had him in particular affection.
On the night of Gerard's ill-timed visit to the tavern, Lina sat opposite to her mother in their humble chimney-corner, a single slender candle burning between them,—their fingers busily engaged in lace-making. On the other side of the room stood a joiner's bench, at which Franz was hard at work. The room itself was clean and neat, and strewn with white sand; a crucifix and a few pictures of saints decorated the walls; but otherwise it contained little beyond the most necessary furniture, for, labour as they would, its inmates' combined efforts could earn but a scanty pittance.
Eight o'clock was the usual hour of Gerard's visit, and hitherto he had never come later without warning Lina beforehand of the probable delay; but now it was ten, and there were no signs of his appearance. The maiden knew not what to think of this irregularity, and was so uneasy and absent that she neither heard nor answered a question put to her by her mother.
"Now then, child," cried the old woman, "your wits are surely wool-gathering. What's the use of fretting? If he come not to-day, he will to-morrow. There are days enough in the year."
"True, mother; but I fear some harm has happened to him, that he misses coming. People are so ill-minded towards him!"
"Ay, that are they; but then he is the headsman's son, and hatred is the portion of his tribe. Did not the mob murder Headsman Hansken with stones, and drown Headsman Harmen, hard by the Kroonenburg tower?"
"And what had they done, mother?"
"I'm sure I can't tell. Nothing, I believe. But it so happens, because the executioners hang many innocent people."
"Surely, mother, the headsman must do what the judge bids him. Why not drown the judge, sooner than his servant?"
"Ay, ay, Lina, but it has always been so. Mind the proverb—'In a kennel of dogs, the smallest gets fewest bits and most bites.'"
"That is a stupid proverb, mother."
And the two women gossiped on, till the old one got weary of watching, and said to her daughter—
"Leave off work, child, and let us to bed. The night grows late."
The young girl was ill-pleased with the order, for she had not yet given up hopes of Gerard's coming; but she could think of no pretext to keep her mother from her bed. After brief reflection—
"Mother," she said, "wait a little longer; three more flowers and my lace is done."
"Make haste then, dear child, or I shall sleep on my chair."
"I am not yet for bed," cried Franz from his bench. "I must finish this sewing-cushion for the landlady at Peerdeken; she is to fetch it early to-morrow."
"Boy, boy!" said his mother, smiling and shaking her head, "for a certainty you drank more last Sunday at Peerdeken than your pocket could pay for, and now you are working out your debt. Well, well!—good-night; and forget not your prayers before laying your heads to rest."
And with this pious injunction, the good woman got up and entered a small adjacent closet, serving as sleeping chamber for herself and her daughter. She could have been but a few minutes in bed when Gerard knocked at the door, and Franz let him in.
The young man's face was pale and gloomy, but Lina wondered not at this, for seldom had she the happiness of seeing her lover's brow otherwise than care-laden. Slowly approaching her, Gerard took her hand and pressed it sadly and silently to his breast. This was his usual greeting. Of words he was habitually frugal, but his eyes expressed heartfelt gratitude and ardent love.
"Gerard!" cried Lina, "what is wrong? Your hand is cold as ice! Heavens! there is blood upon your throat!"
"'Tis nothing, Lina; I knocked myself in the dark. Happy for me, were my sufferings only of the body!"
The words were followed by a deep sigh, and by a look of profound dejection, that filled Lina with alarm. Gerard's eyes had assumed a fixed hard look, in which she read the announcement of some terrible novelty. With the tenderest care she cleansed his neck from the blood, which flowed from a trifling wound; and taking her lover's hand, clasped it in both of hers, with a glance of affectionate encouragement. But he continued to regard her with the same unvarying gaze, until at last, unable longer to endure the suspense and his seeming coldness, she sank into a chair.
"Oh, Gerard!" she exclaimed, "look not thus, if you would not kill me with your glance!"
The young man cast his eyes upon the ground, then raised them again to Lina's face, but this time with an expression of ineffable sadness, and took a seat by her side.
"Lina," he said, in a tone betraying the deepest emotion, "give me patient hearing, for I have much to say. We meet for the last time."
And without attending to poor Lina's increasing agitation, he continued—
"When children," he said, "we played together, mutually attracted by a feeling we could not understand, and which has since grown into love. You knew not, sweet Lina, what it is to be the headsman's firstborn. You knew not that he who hangs and racks and brands, is laden with more ignominy than the criminal who suffers at his hands. Later you learned it, but your pure soul refused to become accomplice of man's injustice, and you loved me the more, when you found how much I needed love to save me from despair. And truly, without thee my sufferings had long since been ended in the grave; for I no longer had faith in any thing save in the justice of God, and that He reserved me compensation in a better world. Men persecute me like one accursed; the blood you have just now wiped was shed by their hatred. But I care little for pain of body; blest with thy love, my Lina, I would bear uncomplaining the worst tortures they could inflict. The pain, the martyrdom is here." He paused, and pressed his hand upon his temples. "Lina, we have ever indulged a fond dream that some unexpected event would free me from the headsman's terrible duties. In this expectation you have sacrificed yourself, and I, blinded by love, have hoped where hope there was none. Beloved! the illusion has fled, the dream is past. To-morrow I am no longer the headsman's son, but the headsman himself! My father lies upon a bed of sickness whence he can never rise. To-morrow there is an execution, and his odious duties devolve on me! But think not, Lina, that I will basely claim the pledges given in hopes of a brighter future. Think not I will expose you to the disgrace of being pointed at as the headsman's mistress—the headsman's wife! No, Lina, I come to release you from all promises; from this moment you are free!"
Whilst Gerard spoke, a gradual but visible change came over the young girl's countenance, and when he paused, it wore an expression of joyful pride—a pride that flashed out of her eyes, and smiled in the dimples of her cheeks. She felt that exhilaration of the heart, the consequence and reward of generous and noble resolves.
"I understand your meaning, Gerard," she said, "and could quarrel with you for thinking me less devoted than yourself, or less ready with a sacrifice. O my beloved! thine I am, and thine will I remain, to-day, to-morrow, and for ever—here or on the scaffold. Gerard, the path of duty is plain before me; as thy wife, I will console thee for the cruelty of men, and shed over thy life the soothing balm of love!"
"Never, Lina, never! What! thou the doomster's wife! A double curse would be upon me, did I consent to such profanation. Dare I drag you down into the pit of ignominy and contempt? Never, oh never!"
"And never," said the maiden, in accents of solemn determination, "will I abandon thee, Gerard, or annul the pledges by which we are mutually bound. Whithersoever thou goest, thither will I go; and all thy efforts shall not detach me from thee. Our lives are indissolubly united. Think you I would desert you on your solitary path? Friend, did you but know how proud and happy I feel! With humble confidence shall I approach the table of the Lord, for my heart tells me the good and just God approves and blesses my resolve."
Gerard gazed in wondering and rapturous admiration on the pure and beautiful countenance of his mistress, now flushed with the enthusiasm of her generous love. There was something divine in the affection that thus courted shame and opprobrium for the sake of the loved one. For a moment his brow beamed with heartfelt joy, and a sigh, but not of sorrow, escaped his lightened breast.
"Forgive me, O Lord," he exclaimed, raising his eyes to heaven, "forgive me that I murmured! In thy great mercy thou has sent an angel to console me!"
Whilst this affecting dialogue took place, Franz had continued his work, without attending to the discourse of Gerard and his sister. Now, however, having finished the cushion, he put by his tools, took up his lamp, and approached the lovers.
"Come, Lina," said he, "I am dead with sleep, and in haste for bed. You must bid Gerard come earlier to-morrow."
Although Gerard had still much to say to his mistress, he could not but take the hint thus plainly but kindly given.
"Franz," said he, gloomily, to his future brother-in-law, "to-morrow I must strike off a man's head upon the scaffold."
"Have a care, then, Gerard!" replied Franz coolly: "if you miss your stroke they will stone you, as they did Headsman Hansken. However, in case of mishap, there is one man at least will stand by you to the last."
The young headsman looked mournfully at Lina, and approached the door, a tear trembling on his eyelid. But Lina threw herself passionately on his neck.
"To-morrow," she cried, "I will be near the scaffold. Observe me well."
And she listened, with clasped hands and tearful cheeks, to her lover's footsteps, as they grew fainter and more faint, and finally died away in the distance.