A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight

by Herbert Strang

On coming to the other side I bent my body low, and crept towards the Spanish lines, holding my dagger in my right hand. I had observed that the shot fell within a short space of the end of a garden wall which had been almost razed to the ground by the burghers' shots in the first hot days of the leaguer. To the right of this stood the stump of a tree. These were my landmarks, for the shot had come to earth somewhere between the tree and the end of the wall. In the darkness I could not hope to see the pit that the shot had made, but must find it by the touch of my feet.

I crept along by the wall, noiseless in my stockings, and coming to the end of it, bent myself yet lower and groped towards the tree. This I attained without having made any discovery, whereupon I turned about and went back, taking a course somewhat nearer to the moat, and so came again to the wall, having discovered nothing. Yet once more I sought the tree, now choosing a course nearer to the trenches, in which direction I heard the dull murmur of voices, yet not so near as to cause me any present disquietude; and so I groped along the ground until I came to a little hollow, where I halted, thinking it a likely place. There I dug away the earth with my hands, making no more noise than a mouse, and anon my fingers struck upon something hard and cold and round, the which, after a little more digging with hands and dagger, I unearthed, and found to be a round shot, as I had hoped. With this in my hands I stole along towards the shelter of the wall.

Hardly had I come there when I heard voices, somewhat louder than those I had heard before, and immediately after footsteps, coming towards me. I dare go no farther, but crouched behind the brickwork, which was no more than three spans high, holding my breath, and peering over the jagged edge of the wall. And I beheld three men as black blots moving in the darkness towards the very spot I had lately left. One of the three held a dark lantern, by whose light, turned from the city, the others began to search the ground. I heard them utter words of satisfaction when they came to the hole, and then I could not forbear chuckling, for the men, probing with their pikes, and finding nothing, let forth cries of astonishment, together with an oath or two. They consulted one with another, and one proposed that they should search around; but this the man that held the lantern scouted, declaring that he had no manner of doubt the place where they then stood was the end of their quest. Nevertheless his comrades prowled and probed, now to the right, anon to the left, and once came so near me that I gripped my dagger tight, ready to buy my safety with good steel. But they withdrew, and stood for some while talking together of this strange thing, and presently gat them back to their trenches, in marvellous puzzlement.

I BEHELD THREE MEN AS BLACK BLOTS MOVING IN THE DARKNESS

Thereupon I crept back to the moat, carrying the shot, and having swum across and recovered my boots, the which I could not pull over my wet stockings, I clambered up between the balks of timber, looked about to certify myself the coast was clear, and hastened by the same circuit to the widow's house.

There my servant was in wait for me, according to my bidding. I took him to my room, and setting the round shot before him, commanded him to examine it. He was a handy fellow, and had the rudiments of more trades than one. It was not long before he discovered, in the surface of the iron, a knob or boss, exceeding small, the which being touched, a narrow channel was revealed, wherein lay a short tube of the thickness of a finger.

"'Tis good locksmith's work, sir," he said with admiration, putting the tube into my hand. I looked therein, and discovered a small roll of paper, the which, upon my spreading it out, I saw was covered with writing in the Spanish tongue, and in the very hand of Volmar, but with no name either at head or at foot. I read the writing with a vast curiosity and eagerness, and what I read was this—

"The victuals will last but one week longer. One of my foes will be hanged; the Englishman I go about to remove. Attack the wall over against the market. I vouch that in ten days the city will yield."

Here was proof of as pretty a piece of villainy as the mind of man could conceive. Verhoeff was to be hanged; I myself to be removed; the wall over against the market was that which the Burgomaster had in charge, and the attack was to be directed thereupon with the intent to harass him and bring him to a frame of mind meet for surrender. A pretty plot indeed, and one that I rejoiced to have the means of circumventing.