“Then listen. You will admit your suitor; you will allow him to make his offer to you now—if he is so inclined; you will, before giving any answer, ask him of his faith. If he replies that he is a heretic, you will dismiss him as kindly as you wish. If he replies that he is a true servant of the Church, you will say that you have heard a different tale and must have time to make inquiries. Remember also that if by one jot you do otherwise than I have bid you, when Dirk van Goorl leaves the room you see him for the last time, unless it pleases you—to attend his execution. Whereas if you obey and dismiss him finally, as the door shuts behind him I put this Information in the fire and satisfy you that the evidence upon which it is based is for ever deprived of weight and done with.”
Lysbeth looked a question.
“I see you are wondering how I should know what you do or do not do. It is simple. I shall be the harmless but observant witness of your interview. Over this doorway hangs a tapestry; you will grant me the privilege—not a great one for a future husband—of stepping behind it.”
“Never, never,” said Lysbeth, “I cannot be put to such a shame. I defy you.”
As she spoke came the sound of knocking at the street door. Glancing up at Montalvo, for the second time she saw that look which he had worn at the crisis of the sledge race. All its urbanity, its careless bonhomie, had vanished. Instead of these appeared a reflection of the last and innermost nature of the man, the rock foundation, as it were, upon which was built the false and decorated superstructure that he showed to the world. There were the glaring eyes, there the grinning teeth of the Spanish wolf; a ravening brute ready to rend and tear, if so he might satisfy himself with the meat his soul desired.
“Don’t play tricks with me,” he muttered, “and don’t argue, for there is no time. Do as I bid you, girl, or on your head will be this psalm-singing fellow’s blood. And, look you, don’t try setting him on me, for I have my sword and he is unarmed. If need be a heretic may be killed at sight, you know, that is by one clothed with authority. When the servant announces him go to the door and order that he is to be admitted,” and picking up his plumed hat, which might have betrayed him, Montalvo stepped behind the arras.
For a moment Lysbeth stood thinking. Alas! she could see no possible escape, she was in the toils, the rope was about her throat. Either she must obey or, so she thought, she must give the man she loved to a dreadful death. For his sake she would do it, for his sake and might God forgive her! Might God avenge her and him!
Another instant and there came a knock upon the door. She opened it.
“The Heer van Goorl stands below,” said the voice of Greta, “wishing to see you, madam.”
“Admit him,” answered Lysbeth, and going to a chair almost in the centre of the room, she seated herself.