Ned willingly accepted the proposal, for indeed he felt that there might be danger in remaining in the house with these drunken soldiers. He accordingly paid his reckoning, and was soon on horseback again, with the landlord's son, a boy of some ten years old, walking beside him. In half an hour they came upon a broad road.
"This," the lad said, "will take you to St. Nicholas."
Ned gave the boy a crown for his trouble, and rode slowly along. He had no idea of entering St. Nicholas, for it was now nigh eleven o'clock at night, and the arrival of a traveller at such an hour would be sure to attract attention. The night, too, was dark, and he could scarce see the road he was following. After thinking it over for some time he dismounted, led his horse a distance from the road, fastened the reins to a bush, and threw himself down on the ground to wait for daylight. The night was cold, and a fine rain was falling. Ned got up from time to time and walked about to keep himself warm, and was heartily glad when he saw the first rays of daylight in the east.
After waiting for half an hour he mounted, and after riding a few miles entered a large village. Thinking that it would be safer than at St. Nicholas, he halted here. It was still raining, and the drenched state of his clothes therefore excited no comment beyond the host's remark, "You must have started early to have got so wet?"
"Yes," he said, "I was up before daylight. I have a change of clothes in my saddlebag, and shall be glad to put them on. Will you order your man to give my horse a good rub down, and let him have a hot mash. How far am I from Ghent now?"
"If you have come from Antwerp, sir, you have come just halfway."
Ned changed his clothes and had some breakfast, and then as he sat by the fire the feeling of warmth and comfort after his long and cold night overpowered him, and he went fast to sleep.
CHAPTER XI
SAVING A VICTIM
Ned slept for some hours. When he woke he heard the landlord talking in loud tones in the passage outside. "I tell you, wife it is a burning shame. Mynheer Von Bost has never done a soul harm in his life. He has always been ready to open his purse strings in case of distress; he is a man that does not meddle in any way with politics. It is true that he does not go to mass, but that hurts no one; and there is many a ne'er-do-well in the village who never darkens the church door. If he prefers to pray in his own house and in his own way, what matter is it to any one? His cloth mill gives employment to half the village. What we shall do if it is shut up I am sure I don't know. But what do they care for the village? Mynheer Von Bost is a Protestant and a rich man--that is quite enough for the Blood Council; so he and his pretty young wife are to be dragged off and executed."