II
While the cart went lumbering along on the top of the dike, with the pond on one side and the canal on the other, Ulenspiegel sat brooding on the past and cherishing in his bosom the ashes of Claes. He pondered deeply upon that vision he had seen, and asked himself if indeed it were true or false, and if those spirits of Nature had been making mock of him, or if perchance they had been revealing to him under a figure those things that must be done if the land of his fathers were to be restored. In vain did he turn the matter over and over in his mind, for he could not discover what was meant by those words, the “Seven” and the “Cincture.” He called to mind the late Emperor Charles V, the present King, the Governess of the Netherlands, the Pope of Rome, the Grand Inquisitor, and last of all, the General of the Jesuits—six great persecutors of his country whom most willingly would he have burned alive had he been able. But he was forced to conclude that none of these was the personage indicated, for that they were all too obviously worthy of being burnt, and would be in another place. And he could only go on repeating to himself those words of the Lord of the Spring:
When the North
Shall kiss the West,
Then shall be the end of ruin.
Love the Seven,
And the Cincture.
“Alas!” he cried, “in death, in blood, in tears, find the Seven, burn the Seven, love the Seven! What does it all mean? My poor brain reels, for who, pray, would ever want to burn that which he loved?”
The cart by this time had progressed a good way along the road, when all at once a sound was heard of some one stepping along the sand, and of a voice singing: