A murmur of applause followed, which soon rose into a loud and unanimous assent to the proposal. Nor did Albert Maurice affect to decline an office which he had previously determined to assume. His thanks he expressed with manly eloquence, and assured his fellow-citizens, with the convincing voice of true feeling, that the liberty and prosperity of his native land should ever be the dearest wish of his heart, and the principal object of his endeavours.
As soon as this subject was discussed, an old man, one of the fathers of the city, rose up, and addressed the new president. With a slight touch of the monitory garrulity of old age--at least, most of those who heard him thought it such--he offered a word or two of caution to the young man who had taken upon him so bold and high a part. "He would not," he said, "urge him, to be more moderate in his views, for he seemed to feel the necessity of moderation already; but he would warn him, in the course that was before him--a course, the turns and circumstances of which, none could yet tell--to beware of his own heart--to guard against ambition, or revenge, or love: for he was young and ardent; and that spirit must be either very cold or very strong, which could resist the influence of some mighty passion, when under the excitement of great events."
Though Albert Maurice listened with attention, and felt, more deeply than he suffered to appear, the justice of the good man's speech, yet there were others who showed some degree of impatience, and evidently thought it out of season. The old burgher perceived this feeling, and, breaking off quickly, went on with the more immediate matter before them. "It is evident, Master Albert Maurice," he said, "that you have thought over all these events long and deeply before this night; and, indeed, who is there amongst us who has not so thought? What, then, is the result of your consideration? What is the first step that you advise us to take?"
"This," replied Albert Maurice: "to meet to-morrow early, at the town-house, and there to prepare a petition, at once condoling with the princess on the events which have placed the government in her hands, and beseeching her to listen to the voice of her own heart, and spontaneously to restore to the good towns of Flanders those rights and privileges of which her father deprived them. Especially, let us entreat her, in the first instance, to do away with that false and illegal body of men, which, under her father's jurisdiction, and by his appointment, administered in this city--not justice, but the arbitrary will of the prince; and to give us back our true and legitimate magistrates, chosen by ourselves, from amongst ourselves, to dispense our own laws to us and to our children."
While the full mellow voice of the young citizen touched thus pointedly upon those subjects in regard to which the feelings and passions of the druggist Ganay were so highly excited, the eye of the unhappy father flashed like a living fire, and a small bright red spot gathered in the centre of his sallow cheek, while his lip quivered as if he could scarcely restrain the passion from bursting forth. The moment that Albert Maurice had done speaking, he started up from his seat, and exclaimed in a quick, sharp, discordant voice, which trembled with the very effort that he made to banish from its tones anything like personal rancour.
"I second the proposal. Are we all agreed?"
"We are," echoed the conclave.
"Now I," continued Ganay, "must offer my proposal, too. Listen to me, men of Ghent. Our rights are our own--inherent, unchangeable; which the voice of no despot can wring from us; which his power may hold in abeyance, but which it can never destroy; which, when even suspended, still exist in full force, and render everything that is done in opposition to them unjust, illegal, criminal. I therefore call upon you solemnly to arraign and to condemn those men, who, chosen from ourselves by the late despot, Charles, became the instruments of his tyranny against their own countrymen. The twenty-six men, falsely calling themselves magistrates of Ghent--appointed, not by the people of Ghent, according to ancient law and usage, but by the Duke of Burgundy, contrary to all our inclinations and consent--have, for nearly ten years, presumed to rule and judge, and doom to punishment, and shed blood, within the walls of this city; for which, as traitors, oppressors, and murderers, unjustified in their proceedings by any law or right, I claim their death, as the just punishment for their crimes, and a due warning unto others in the time to come."
As he spoke, his whole frame trembled with the angry passion that was burning at his heart. His words flowed rapidly and clear; and his face, with the bright dark eyes, flashing from beneath his heavy-knitted brow, offered the very picture of eloquent revenge. A murmur of doubtful import spread through his auditory; some carried away by his passionate oratory, some unwilling to begin their course with such a sweeping act of severity. Albert Maurice himself--sympathizing deeply with the feelings of the childless father, yet resolved, upon every principle of reason and right, to oppose a proposition which, he well knew, proceeded rather from the spirit of revenge than a sense of justice--paused between his contending feelings; when, to the surprise of all, good Martin Fruse raised up his portly person, and, with one of those bursts of generous indignation, which sometimes rendered him almost eloquent, opposed himself strongly to the course suggested by his friend the druggist.
"No, no!" he exclaimed; "no, no! that will never do. Good God! my fellow-citizens, shall it be hereafter said that the people of Ghent rose up powerfully in defence of their own liberties, and made their first act the slaughter of six-and-twenty defenceless men, who had been acting under the belief that they were justified by the law? If any one was to blame, it was the Duke Charles, not they; and good sooth, I doubt, that, at the worst, you could prove they did not legally hold their posts; for, by my faith, we all consented that the duke should appoint them, when we thought he was going to hang us all. A cheap bargain we thought it then, when he was at our gates with ten thousand men. But even were it not so, and had we not consented, should we be the first to make widows and orphans in our own city? Should we shed more Flemish blood, when so much has already flowed to no purpose? Should we punish men for actions in which they believed there was no offence? Fie! fie! Take from them their offices; reprove them for having so far betrayed their country, as to accept the post they held from one who had no right to give it; and let them go back to their dwellings to mourn over their fall. What say you, my fair nephew? Do I judge aright?"