"Must I die with my hands tied, like a common felon?" he said, addressing the executioner.
"Not if your lordship is prepared to die without offering resistance," replied the other.
"I am prepared, sir," answered Imbercourt, "to die as I have lived, calmly, honestly, fearlessly."
The executioner began to untie his hands; and the Vert Gallant, giving one glance round the crowd, apparently to ascertain the proximity of his followers, drew forward his sword-belt, and loosened the weapon in the sheath. Imbercourt, at the same time, was advancing as far as possible, as if to address the people, and the whole multitude, seeing it, kept a profound silence; when suddenly, in the midst of the still hush--just as the Vert Gallant of Hannut was passing round the head of the file of burgher guards, till he was within a few steps of the scaffold itself--a sweet and plaintive voice, which would have been inaudible under any other circumstances, was heard from amongst the crowd exclaiming, "Oh, let me pass! for God's sake, let me pass! They are murdering my faithful servants. Let me pass; in pity, in mercy let me pass!"
"It is the princess! it is the princess!" cried a number of voices: "let her pass! let her pass!" and, by an involuntary movement of feeling and compassion, the people drew hastily back on either side, and Mary of Burgundy, in the deep mourning of an orphan, with her bright hair escaped from her veil, and flowing wide over her shoulders, her face deluged in tears, and her hands clasped in agony, rushed forward into the open space, and, casting herself upon her knees before the people of Ghent, exclaimed aloud the only words she could utter, "Oh, spare them--spare them!"[[9]]
"Yes, yes," cried an honest burgher from the crowd, "we will spare them. Out upon it! has not the prince always had power to show mercy? Hark ye, neighbours, pikes and swords for Martin Fruse! On upon the scaffold! We will save them!"
"Back, false citizen; back!" cried the cavalier in the glittering dress we have described. "What, would you interrupt the course of justice! By the sun in heaven, they shall die the death!" and, drawing his sword, he threw himself between the people and the scaffold.
All was now tumult and confusion; and in one instant it seemed us if a general spirit of civil strife had seized upon every part of the multitude. Some shouted, "Mercy for them! mercy for them!" Some, "Justice! justice! slay the traitors!" Pikes were crossed, and swords were drawn on all sides. The burgher guards were as divided as the people. Mary of Burgundy was borne fainting behind the scaffold; and those upon the scaffold itself seemed paralysed by surprise and fear. But the green scarfs and burgonets of the Riders of Hannut were seen forcing their way forward through the press, in spite of all opposition; and at the same moment the thundering voice of the Vert Gallant was heard rising above everything else: "On, on to the scaffold, friends of mercy!" he cried. "Lord of Imbercourt, cast yourself over, you are amongst friends!"
Imbercourt might have done so; but he was instantly seized by Maillotin du Bac, and one of the executioners, who unhappily awoke from their first consternation in time to prevent him from seizing the opportunity which was unexpectedly presented to him.
The Vert Gallant, however, pushed forward, sword in hand. All gave way, or went down before him; the pikes opposed to his breast shivered like withered boughs beneath his arm; and he was within a yard of the spot where Imbercourt stood, when he was encountered, hand to hand, by the cavalier we have before mentioned; and each found that he had met an enemy very different from the burghers by whom they were surrounded. Each was powerful and skilful; but the Vert Gallant had, by more than twenty years, the advantage of his adversary; and feeling that the fate of Imbercourt must be decided in the twinkling of an eye--for the guards and executioners were forcing him down to the block--he showered his blows upon his adversary with a thundering rapidity that in a moment brought him upon his knees. He was still, however, between the young cavalier and the scaffold; and, fierce with the eagerness of the encounter, Hugh of Gueldres drew back his arm, to plunge the point of his sword into the throat of his opponent, when the voice of one of the cavalier's attendants exclaimed aloud, "Save the duke! For God's sake, save the Duke of Gueldres! Forbear! forbear!"