The Laughing Cavalier Baroness Orczy (bill gates books recommendations txt) 📖

desire me to take her, to this I pledge you my word. Beyond that⁠ ⁠… well! you have said it yourself, by her knowledge of your secret she has forfeited her own safety; you⁠—her own brother⁠—choose to entrust her to me. The rest lies between you and your honour.”

An angry retort once more rose to Nicolaes Beresteyn’s lips, but common sense forced him to check it. The man was right in what he said. On the face of it his action in entrusting his own sister into the keeping of a knight of industry, a nameless wastrel whose very calling proclaimed him an unscrupulous adventurer, was the action of a coward and of a rogue. Any man with a spark of honour in him⁠—would condemn Nicolaes Beresteyn as a blackguard for this deed. Nevertheless there was undoubtedly something in the whole personality of this same adventurer that in a sense exonerated Nicolaes from the utter dishonour of his act.

On the surface the action was hideous, monstrous, and cowardly, but beneath that surface there was the undercurrent of trust in this one man, the firm belief born of nothing more substantial than an intuition that this man would in this matter play the part of a gentleman.

But it is not my business to excuse Nicolaes Beresteyn in this. What guided him solely in his present action was that primary instinct of self-preservation, that sense which animals have without the slightest knowledge or experience on their part and which has made men play at times the part of a hero and at others that of a knave. Stoutenburg who was always daring and always unscrupulous where his own ambitious schemes were at stake had by a careful hint shown him a way of effectually silencing Gilda during the next few days. Beresteyn’s mind filled to overflowing with a glowing desire for success and for life had readily worked upon the hint.

And he did honestly believe⁠—as hundreds of misguided patriots have believed before and since⁠—that Heaven was on his side of the political business and had expressly led along his path this one man of all others who would do what was asked of him and whom he could trust.

XI The Bargain

There had been silence in the great, bare workroom for some time, silence only broken by Beresteyn’s restless pacing up and down the wooden floor. Diogenes had resumed his seat, his shrewd glance following every movement of the other man, every varied expression of his face.

At last Nicolaes came to a halt opposite to him.

“Am I to understand then, sir,” he asked, looking Diogenes straight between the eyes and affecting not to note the mocking twinkle within them, “that you accept my proposition and that you are prepared to do me service?”

“Absolutely, sir,” replied the other.

“Then shall we proceed with the details?”

“An it please you.”

“You will agree to do me service for the sum of 4,000 guilders?”

“In gold.”

“Of course. For this sum you will convey Jongejuffrouw Beresteyn out of Haarlem, conduct her with a suitable escort and in perfect safety to Rotterdam and there deliver her into the hands of Mynheer Ben Isaje⁠—the banker⁠—who does a vast amount of business for me and is entirely and most discreetly devoted to my interests. His place of business is situated on the Schiedamsche Straat and is a house well known to everyone in Rotterdam seeing that Mynheer Ben Isaje is the richest money-lending Jew in the city.”

“That is all fairly simple, sir,” assented Diogenes.

“You will of course tender me your oath of secrecy.”

“My word of honour, sir. If I break that I would be as likely to break an oath.”

“Very well,” said Beresteyn after a moment’s hesitation during which he tried vainly to scrutinize a face which he had already learned was quite inscrutable. “Shall we arrange the mode of payment then?”

“If you please.”

“How to obtain possession of the person of the jongejuffrouw is not my business to tell you. Let me but inform you that today being New Year’s day she will surely go to evensong at the cathedral and that her way from our home thither will lead her along the bank of the Oude Gracht between the Zijl Straat where our house is situate and the Hout Straat which debouches on the Groote Markt. You know the bank of the Oude Gracht better than I do, sir, so I need not tell you that it is lonely, especially at the hour when evensong at the cathedral is over. The jongejuffrouw is always escorted in her walks by an elderly duenna whom you will of course take to Rotterdam, so that she may attend on my sister on the way, and by two serving men whose combined courage is not, of course, equal to your own. This point, therefore, I must leave you to arrange in accordance with your desire.”

“I thank you, sir.”

“In the same way it rests with you what arrangements you make for the journey itself; the providing of a suitable carriage and of an adequate escort I leave entirely in your hands.”

“Again I thank you.”

“I am only concerned with the matter itself, and with the payment which I make to you for your services. As for your route, you will leave Haarlem by the Holy Cross gate and proceed straight to Bennebrock, a matter of a league or so. There I will meet you at the halfway house which stands at the crossroads where a signpost points the way to Leyden. The innkeeper there is a friend of mine, whose natural discretion has been well nurtured by frequent gifts from me. He hath name Praff, and will see to the comfort of my sister and of her duenna, while you and I settle the first instalment of our business, quite unbeknown to her. There, sir, having assured myself that my sister is safe and in your hands, I will give over to you the sum of 1,000 guilders, together with