The crowd watched him as he slowly mounted. Deep emotion filled every breast. Not a sound was heard until he arrived at the summit and stood immobile at the foot of the cross. Then burst forth a universal cry of admiration. He lighted his brazier and actively commenced his work, attaching firmly to the cross one end of the rope, of which the other encircled his body. The multitude saw the great cross rise slowly and by degrees under the repeated blows of the hammer, and with every stroke his strength appeared to increase.
Fifteen minutes had hardly passed when cries of enthusiasm saluted the cross completely restored. His first thought was an aspiration of gratitude to heaven, the second was for his mother. Then he thought with an emotion of indescribable joy of Marie, who would be his, for her father certainly could not refuse, when he should have the five hundred golden crowns obtained in such an heroic manner. His happiness was at its height, and fearing that his emotion might prove fatal, he crossed himself and prepared to descend, but before doing so he threw a last glance over the crowd. He saw them separate to give passage to a wedding cortége, which advanced towards the cathedral. Attracted in spite of himself, he regarded attentively all the members. He noticed a young girl dressed in white as a bride leaning on the arm of an old man. He supported himself at the foot of the cross and leaned as far as possible to assure himself of the reality of his fears—his eyes distended, his face livid, and his whole body trembling with emotion. They glanced upwards to see the young workman who had raised the cross—Yvon gave a cry of agony, for this bride was Marie, and at her side the old jeweler Verachter of Ziereckstraet! The shock was too violent for his spirit exhausted by so many struggles. He fainted—his hands dropped the support which held him, he remained an instant immovable—then fell. But the rope which was around him remained fixed to the foot of the cross, and he was for some minutes suspended in space. The crowd who had seen his fall with terror believed him saved, but the rope had touched the lighted brazier, and soon the body of the unfortunate Yvon fell a disfigured and bleeding mass in the midst of this brilliant wedding cortege, at the feet of the bride.
The next day a deputation of magistrates of the city went to carry to his mother the five hundred golden crowns, the price of the blood of her son. But the chamber was empty. A coffin was placed in the middle of the room. Death had spared the poor mother this great affliction. Yvon was buried on the spot where he fell, and the blue stone, with the brass encrusted in the marble, alone indicates the place where lies the body of the young blacksmith.
III
Frügger the Miser
I
One evening in the year 1552, the bells of the numerous hurches and chapels of the pious city of Antwerp were heard calling the faithful to divine service, to pray for the repose of the souls of their deceased relatives and friends. The heavens were obscured by black and angry clouds; the wind blew in strong gusts, accompanied by a drizzling rain. A profound silence reigned in the obscure streets. As the greater part of the population were in the churches, one could easily have traversed half the city without meeting a living soul, except, perhaps, some tardy worshiper, hastening to regain lost time and to arrive at the Salut, before the Tantum Ergo.
Notwithstanding the importance of the religious solemnities which were being performed in all the houses of God, and the detestable weather which drove every one from the streets, a man stood motionless before a house in the rue des Tailleurs de Pierres, enveloped in a dark cloak. He remained motionless, feeling neither the wind nor the rain, his eyes fixed on the windows, trying vainly to distinguish the least ray of light. He was young, with effeminate features, and his upper lip was shaded by a light moustache; although he endeavoured to conquer the emotions which agitated him, it was not difficult to discover by the contraction of his brows, that bitter thoughts filled him with despair. The house before which he stood was that of a rich banker named Frügger. After having stood there some time, he lost hope of seeing in this dwelling the wished-for object, and with that, the courage to remain longer exposed to the inclemency of the storm, so he walked slowly away in the direction of the Scheldt. While he was in the neighbourhood of the mansion of Frügger he stopped from time to time and regarded it still with the same ardent anxiety which for more than an hour had characterized his contemplation. When at last the distance and the obscurity prevented him from seeing it, the expression of his countenance became still more sorrowful.
Letting his head droop upon his chest, he sighed, “Katharina, thou lovest me no more! Thou hast forgotten me! Thou hast abandoned me! It is foolish for me to doubt it! Oh! now it is finished! I wish no longer to live! Existence becomes a burden to me.”