The Laughing Cavalier Baroness Orczy (bill gates books recommendations txt) 📖
- Author: Baroness Orczy
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“She may be still at Bennebrock, or mayhap at Leyden—he could not have taken her further than that in the time. Anyhow it would be quite easy for him to go back to her during the night, and bring her into Haarlem tomorrow. Friend!” he added earnestly, “the situation is intolerable—unthinkable! After all that we have done, the risks which we have taken, Gilda’s return now—a certain denunciation from her—and failure and death once more stare us in the face, and this time more insistently.”
“It is unthinkable, as you say,” cried Beresteyn vehemently, “but the situation is not so hopeless as you seem to think. I can go at once to my father and denounce the rogue to him. I can tell him that I have reason to believe that the man to whom he has just promised a fortune for the return of Gilda is the very man who hath abducted her.”
“Impossible,” said Stoutenburg calmly.
“Why?”
“Your father would have the man arrested, he would be searched, and papers and letters writ by you to Ben Isaje of Rotterdam will be found in his possession. These papers would proclaim you the prime mover in the outrage against your sister.”
“True! I had not thought of that. But, instead of going to my father, I could denounce the rascal to the city magistrate on suspicion of having abducted my sister. Van der Meer would give me the command of the town guard sent out to arrest him, I could search him myself and take possession of all his papers ere I bring him before the magistrate.”
“Bah! the magistracy of Haarlem moves with ponderous slowness. While that oaf, Van der Meer, makes preparations for sending out the town guard, our rogue will slip through our fingers, and mayhap be back in Haarlem with Gilda ere we find him again.”
“Let me have Jan and one or two of Heemskerk’s mercenaries,” urged Beresteyn, “we could seize him and his papers tonight as soon as he leaves the city gates.”
“Then, out of revenge,” said Stoutenburg, “he will refuse to tell us what he hath done with Gilda.”
“Bah!” retorted Beresteyn cynically, “here in Haarlem we can always apply torture.”
“Then, if he speaks, Gilda can be back here in time to denounce us all. No, no, my friend,” continued Stoutenburg firmly, “let us own at once that by trusting that scoundrel we have run our heads into a noose out of which only our wits can extricate us. We must meet cunning with cunning, treachery if need be with treachery. Gilda—of course—must not remain at the mercy of brigands, but she must not be given her freedom to do us the harm which she hath already threatened. Remember this, Nicolaes,” he added, placing his hand upon his friend’s shoulder and forcing him to look straight into his own feverishly glowing eyes, “remember that, when all these troubles are over, Gilda will become my wife. The devotion of my entire life shall then compensate her for the slight wrong which fate compels us to do her at this moment. Will you remember that, my friend?”
“I do remember it,” replied the other, “but …”
“And will you try and trust me as you would yourself?”
“I do trust you, Willem, as I would trust myself; only tell me what you want to do.”
“I want to bring that knave to the gallows without compromising you and the success of our cause,” said Stoutenburg firmly.
“But how can you do it?”
“That I do not know yet; I have only vague thoughts in my mind. But hate, remember, is a hard and very efficient taskmaster, and I hate that man, Nicolaes, almost as much as I hate the Prince of Orange. But ’tis the Prince’s death which I want first; because of this my hatred of the rascal must lie dormant just a few days. But it shall lose nothing by waiting, and already I see before me visions of an exemplary revenge which shall satisfy you and gratify my hate.”
“Can I help you in any way?”
“Not at present; I have no definite plans just now. All I know is that we must possess ourselves of the rascal’s person as well as of Gilda without the risk of compromising ourselves. In this, of course, we have now Jan’s valuable help; he is a splendid leader and entirely trustworthy where the cause of his own hatred against the Prince is served.”
“And, of course, you have the thirty or forty men—mercenaries and louts—whom Heemskerk, van Does and the others have been recruiting for you.”
“Exactly. I can easily detail half a dozen of them to follow Jan. That is our first move, my good Beresteyn,” he added emphatically, “to gain possession of Gilda, and to capture the rascal. Only tell me this, what are the papers now in that knave’s possession which might compromise you if they were found?”
“I had to write a letter to Ben Isaje, telling him to convince himself that Gilda was safe and in good health, ere he paid the rascal a sum of 3,000 guilders. This letter is writ in mine own hand and signed with my name. Then there is a formal order to Ben Isaje to pay over the money, but that was writ in the usual way by the public scrivener and is signed with the cipher which I always use in all monetary transactions with the Jew. He keeps these formal documents in his archives and all his clients use a cipher in the same way.”
“How is that formal order worded?”
“As far as I remember it runs thus: ‘In consideration of valuable services rendered to me by the bearer of this note, I desire you to pay him the sum of 3,000 guilders out of my monies which lie with you at interest.’ The cipher signature consists of the words ‘Schwarzer Kato’ surmounted by a triangle.”
“And is that cipher known to anyone save to Ben Isaje?”
“Alas! it is known to my father. We both use it for private business
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