"Make a low knocking against the windows of the counting-house, Longpole," said he, "as if you were trying to force them. I have known these money-getters as deaf as adders to any sound but that which menaced the mammon."
Longpole obeyed, and the moment after the light moved. "Hold! hold!" cried the knight, "he hears;" and the next moment the casement window was pushed open, through which the head of the good merchant protruded itself, vociferating, "Who's tere? What do you want? I'll call te watch. Watch! Watch!"
"Taisez-vous!" cried the knight, addressing him in French, not being able to speak the Brabant dialect of the merchant, and yet not wishing to proclaim his errand aloud in English. "Nous sommes amis; descendez, Guillaume Hans: c'est le Sire de Darnley."
"Oh! I'll come down, I'll come down," cried the merchant "Run, Skippenhausen, and open te door. I'll come down, my coot lord, in a minute."
The two travellers had not now long to wait; for in a moment or two the little door at which Longpole had at first in vain applied for admission was thrown open by a personage, the profundity of whose nether garments, together with his long waistcoat, square-cut blue coat, with the seams, and there were many, all bound with white lace, induced Sir Osborne immediately to write him down for a Dutch navigator. Descending the stairs, immediately behind this first apparition, came the merchant himself, with his black gown, which had probably been laid aside for the night, now hurried on, not with the most correct adjustment in the world, for it looked very much as if turned inside out, which might well happen to a robe, the sleeves of which were not above six inches long. Sir Osborne, however, did not stay to investigate the subject very minutely; but explaining to the good merchant that he had something particular to say to him, he was conducted into the counting-house, where he informed him as succinctly as possible of what had occurred and what he desired. Good Master Hans was prodigal of his astonishment, which vented itself in various exclamations in Flemish, English, and French; after which, coming to business, as he said, he told the knight that he could put up his horses in the same stable where he kept his drays, and that after that they would talk of the rest. "But on my wort, my coot lord," said he, "I must go with your man myself, for there is not one soul in the place to let him in or out of the stable, which is behind the house."
The most troublesome part of the affair for the moment was to take off the bard or horse armour that covered the knight's charger, as it could not be left in the stable till the next morning, when the merchant's carters would arrive; and poor William Hans was desperately afraid that the round of the watch would pass while the operation was in execution, and suppose that he was receiving some contraband goods, which might cause a search the next day.
The business, however, was happily accomplished by the aid of the Dutch captain, who, seeing that there was something mysterious going forward, and having a taste that way, gave more active assistance than either his face or figure might have taught one to expect.
He also it was who, while the good merchant, with the candle in his hand, led our friend Longpole with the horses to the stable, conducted the knight up-stairs into the room where they had first discovered the light, and invited him, in extremely good English, to be seated. By the appearance of the chamber it seemed that Master Hans had been preparing to make great cheer for his captain; for various were the flagons and bottles that stood upon the table, together with trenchers and plates unused, and a pile of manchet and spice bread, with other signs and prognostications of a rere-supper; not to mention an immense bowl which stood in the midst, and whose void rotundity seemed yearning for some savoury mass not yet concocted.
It was not long before the merchant re-appeared, accompanied by Longpole, who, according to the custom of those days, when many a various rank might be seen at the same board, seated himself at the farther end of the table, after having taken his master's casque, and soon engaged the Dutch captain in conversation, while the knight consulted with William Hans regarding the means of quitting England as speedily as possible.
"It is very unlucky you did not let me know before," said the merchant, "for we might easily have cot the ship of my coot friend Skippenhausen there ready to-day, and you could have sailed to-morrow morning by the first tide. You might trust him; you might trust him with your life. Bless you, my coot lord! 'tis he that brings me over the Bibles from Holland."