•■X. 
 
 '^^JIn. 
 
 ^ 
 
 4% 
 
 \ 
 
 ^^ 
 
 ^**r^ 
 
 'AT 
 
 r 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 
 f 
 
 1 
 
 
 v;i 
 
 
 \ 
 
 ^ ■ /* 
 
 ^c
 
 ^^^ /7^^ o^^-^- 
 
 ^^M 
 
 ~> 
 
 ' ,^ 
 
 O 
 
 L I B R.AR.Y 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 Of ILLINOIS 
 
 v.\
 
 
 9r^
 
 THE 
 
 WHITE HOODS; 
 
 an l^i0totical ffitomance* 
 
 BY 
 
 ANNA ELIZA BRAY, 
 
 LATE 
 
 MRS. CHARLES STOTHARD, 
 
 AUTHOR OF " DE FOIX ;" "LETTERS WRITTEN DURING A TOUR 
 
 THROUGH NORMANDT AND BRITANNY ;" " MEMOIRS OF THE 
 
 LATE CHARLES A. STOTHARD, F.S.A." &C. &C. 
 
 Be brave then : for your captain is brave, 
 
 And vows reformation. — 
 
 There shall be no money : all shall eat 
 And drink on my score ; and I will apparel them 
 All in one livery, that they may agree like brothers, 
 And worship me their lord." Shakspeare. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL I. 
 
 LONDON; 
 
 PRINTED FOR 
 
 LONGMAN, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW, 
 
 1828.
 
 London : 
 
 Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode, 
 New- Street- Square.
 
 f^3 
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 r OR the Historical Parts of the following 
 Narrative, the Writer (as in her work of 
 De Foix) has derived her authority from 
 Froissart. She has also endeavoured to 
 give a slight, but faithful, Sketch of the 
 Manners of the Country in which the 
 scene of action is laid, as they existed 
 at the period of her narrative. 
 
 Vicarage, Tavistock, Devon, 
 November 30th, 1826.
 
 Preparing for the Press. 
 
 THE PROTESTANT ; a Tale of the Sixteenth 
 Century. In Three Volumes. By the Author of 
 The White Hoods. 
 
 ERRATA. 
 
 Vol. I. 
 For « St. Omer" and " St. Omer's," read " St. Omers." 
 
 Vol. II. 
 Page 93. line 12. for " Country," read " County." 
 Page 103. line 8. /or "impediments," read ''impedimenta. 
 Page 179. line 16. for " Groto," read " Grote." 
 
 Vol. III. 
 Page 1. line 5. for " escape," read *' safety." 
 Page 91. line 20. for " in restless," read « in the restless."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Whilst Lewis de Male was Earl of Flanders, 
 and Charles the Fifth occupied the throne of 
 France (that King being lord paramount, to 
 whom the Earl owed homage for his dominions), 
 the whole country of Flanders was in the highest 
 state of wealth and prosperity; and, for com- 
 merce, it might then be justly deemed the empo- 
 rium of the world. For more than a century this 
 had been gradually increasing, till at length it 
 had arrived at that point when all rivalry ceased, 
 and the Low Countries were looked upon as the 
 mart of traffic, and the treasure house of riches. 
 In consequence of the imperfect state of navi- 
 gation at that period, a voyage from the north to 
 the Mediterranean could not be accomplished in 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 one summer. It was found expedient, there- 
 fore, to fix upon some large towns to be used 
 as vast storehouses, half way between the com- 
 mercial cities of the north, and those of the 
 south. Bruges and Ghent (but more especially 
 the former) were selected for this purpose. And 
 to a choice so fortunate for the prosperity of the 
 country must be attributed the immense influx 
 of wealth, which at this period was so widely 
 and universally diffused throughout the Nether- 
 lands, that poverty became almost unknown, 
 even to the humblest members of the community. 
 The commodities of the various trading cities of 
 all Europe found their circulation through the 
 hands of the merchants of Flanders ; and there 
 was not at this period a commercial town of any 
 import but had its separate company and ware- 
 houses either at Ghent or Bruges. 
 
 The merchants and chief citizens of the Low 
 Countries lived in a state of splendour that 
 emulated and often successfully rivalled the 
 nobles and princes of France. Their cathedrals, 
 churches, town-halls, and other public edifices, 
 were of the most magnificent description. No
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 3 
 
 expence was spared in the external or internal 
 decorations of these buildings. And the streets 
 of Ghent and Bruges presented at every turn 
 such a combination of fine Gothic structures, the 
 dwellings of private inhabitants, that some of 
 them now remaining may be considered as 
 models of beauty and elegance in the domestic 
 architecture of that era. 
 
 The splendour of Bruges was indeed unri- 
 valled. In that town alone there were not 
 less than twenty palaces erected for the consuls 
 or masters of the different trades ; and the 
 citizens, with their wives and families, were in 
 the habit of wearing such costly stuffs, gold, and 
 jewels, that it was commonly said the value of 
 a royal dower might sometimes be seen upon 
 their backs. A well-known anecdote strikingly 
 illustrates this fact ; for when Joanna of Navarre, 
 the queen of Philip le Bel, visited Bruges, she 
 was so surprised at the magnificent attire of the 
 ladies of that city, that she exclaimed, " I 
 thought that I had been the only queen in 
 Bruges, but here I find all are such." 
 
 Notwithstanding the vast trade of Flanders, 
 B 2
 
 4 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 it had in some measure been injured by the 
 jealousies and quarrels of the two rival towns, 
 Ghent and Bruges. These, unsatisfied in tlieir 
 commercial transactions with a state of prosperity 
 which no other cities in the world then possessed, 
 were perpetually disagreeing with each other, 
 in the hope to gain the pre-eminence. Such 
 jealousies and civil strife (for the Flemings 
 were often at variance with their lords) had in 
 some measure injured their opulence during the 
 lifetime of the father of Lewis de Male, the late 
 Earl ; till their commerce and prosperity once 
 more revived under the wise administration of 
 Jacob Von Artaveld. But Jacob was now dead, 
 and Lewis remained the undisturbed possessor 
 of the dominions of the Low Countries. Once 
 more their trade flourished, and their citizens 
 revelled in the pride of luxury and of unbounded 
 wealth. 
 
 The beautiful city of Ghent, which, like 
 Venice, might almost be termed a city of the 
 waters, stood upon twenty-six small islands, on 
 the conflux of the rivers Lis, Scheldt, Moeze, 
 and Lieve, divided and intersected by a number
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 5 
 
 of minor streams formed by canals. The streets 
 were of commodious construction, ornamented 
 by various public edifices, besides churches. 
 The castle (where the good Queen Phillippa of 
 England had brought into the world her son 
 John, who took his surname from his birth- 
 place,) was a vast and massive building of the 
 thirteenth century. It stood within the walls 
 of the town, guarded by many a strong gate and 
 heavy tower. The houses in Ghent were lofty, 
 and exhibited that style of structure so peculiar 
 to the Gothic ages, wherein taste and stability 
 became united. Their material often consisted 
 of small bricks of a fine texture, and of a grey 
 colour, which were so well put together, and so 
 well combined with the various ornaments of 
 the edifices, that they could scarcely be con- 
 sidered inferior to stone. 
 
 The cathedral of St. Bavon, then newly 
 finished, exhibited all the magnificence that 
 wealth and talent could supply as an offering 
 to the superstitions of the Romish church; 
 whilst the towers and grey walls of St. Nicholas 
 looked even then venerable from their antiquity. 
 b3
 
 b THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 The communication from one street to another 
 was facilitated by a number of swing bridges, 
 boats, and small craft. The town was entirely 
 walled throughout the whole of its vast circum- 
 ference. And so strong were these defences, 
 that even at the present time the remains of 
 these walls and towers seem impregnable to the 
 beholder. 
 
 All was busy — all in motion. Every thing 
 bespoke the thriving activity of commercial 
 wealth. Here were seen vessels unloading the 
 wool transported from England, or the timber 
 from Norway. There a Spanish galleon, so 
 heavily laden that her gunwale was almost 
 under water, brought the rich wines of Anda- 
 lusia, and ingots of gold and silver, to the 
 universal mart. The gay pendants of the light 
 Italian felucca streamed in the air, as the pilot 
 stood at tl.e helm, and thought, as he passed 
 down the many canals of Ghent, how great 
 was their inferiority to the channels of his own 
 city, that rose from the bosom of the Adriatic ; 
 whilst, as the doge proceeded to claim the latter 
 as his bride, her white and marble domes looked 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 7 
 
 as if they were formed for the palaces of Nep- 
 tune, and the sea nymphs of his train. Whilst 
 the Venetian thus carolled his lively song, the 
 Frenchman talked, laughed, and danced upon 
 the deck of his vessel^ as if his spirits, light, 
 sparkling, and brisk as the wines of his native 
 country, must necessarily find a vent, or would 
 burst by an excited fermentation. Here the 
 heavy Dutchman calculated the value of his 
 butter and cheese, and the difference of the 
 exchange, whether it were now in favour of the 
 Holland gelder or of the Flemish " old crown." 
 The Dane looked surly, and drank brandy, as 
 he unloaded his stores of dried stock-fish, hides^ 
 and furs ; and the Englishman cursed the 
 Flemings for cowardly rascals, who could never 
 find spirit enough to quarrel with any country 
 but their own. 
 
 In one of the streets of Ghent, near the market 
 place, stood a house of more than ordinary beauty 
 in its structure. It was ascended by a flight of 
 steps that terminated beneath a vaulted porch, 
 having two lateral apertures or arches, richly 
 decorated with Gothic carvings in stone. Above 
 B 4
 
 8 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 the oaken door it sheltered stood within a niche 
 the image of the Virgin Mary, formed of wood, 
 painted and gilt, and holding the model of a ship 
 in her hands. Underneath was this inscription, 
 emblazoned in golden letters, in the Flemish 
 tongue : — 
 
 " Sir Simon de Bete, knight, master of the 
 very worshipful the company of goldsmiths, and 
 burgomaster of Ghent, caused me to be made, 
 in honour of our blessed Lady the Virgin Mary, 
 in memory of her great delivery of his good ship 
 the Cockatrice, when laden with ingots of gold, 
 and in peril of the waters : for which service, I 
 am but one of those three hundred images vowed 
 by the worshipful Sir Simon to our Lady of de- 
 liverance, whereof that in gold stands in the 
 church of the Holy Virgin of this town." 
 
 The house of this " worshipful Sir Simon" 
 stood facing one of those clear streams or canals 
 that watered the city ; opposite were objects, 
 which, though not the most picturesque a painter 
 could desire, afforded the fairest prospect the 
 eyes of a goldsmith would desire to look upon — 
 the offices, the warehouse, and the workshops of
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 9 
 
 his craft. Sir Simon, it is probable, would not 
 have exchanged these objects for the finest in 
 nature ; and it might perhaps have been the 
 sight of the high tower of the church dedicated 
 to the Virgin, which was seen peering above 
 their slanting roofs in the back ground, that first 
 inspired him with the idea of that pious vow re- 
 corded upon his door ; a vow made when he felt 
 some alarm for the safety of his Cockatrice, whose 
 stores he longed to see deposited within the 
 halcyon precincts of his own warehouse, far from 
 the peril of those waters, which, like prodigals 
 and spendthrifts as they are, make no more 
 account of the golden lading of a vessel, than they 
 do of the ballast in her hold. 
 
 It was upon the close of an autumnal day, 
 when the artisans of the various trades of Ghent 
 had already retired to their homes, and all was 
 gradually subsiding into silence and repose, that 
 the great town-bell rang the signal, which bade 
 all who were desirous of passing the night in the 
 city to hasten within its walls before the gates 
 were closed. The evening was mild and beauti- 
 ful ; the canals, no longer disturbed by the busy
 
 10 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 passage of vessels of burthen, (which, during the 
 day, had either unloaded their stores on the 
 quays and wharfs, or were passing out to com- 
 mence their navigation down the Scheldt,) looked 
 at this hour calm, smooth, and clear, and reflected 
 upon their surface^ like a thousand mirrors, many 
 a Gothic building, together with the fretted orna- 
 ments and lofty spires of the surrounding churches 
 and monasteries. 
 
 It was now that a little boat^ containing but 
 one person besides the boatman, was seen to 
 glide gently down one of these canals, and made 
 towards the steps that formed a landing place 
 opposite to the habitation of Sir Simon de Bete. 
 The passenger^ on quitting the boat, dismissed 
 it^ and with a slow pace ascended the steps, and 
 for some time walked up and down the street. 
 He seemed to be about fifty years old, his aspect 
 was peculiar^ and his features bore the traces of 
 thought and care. His dress indicated the man 
 of substance rather than superfluity : it was good, 
 respectable, but not ostentatious. He was habited 
 in a suit of black velvet. The mantle, tight 
 around the throat, with two immense sleeves,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 11 
 
 through which the arms found their way at the 
 elbow (the rest of the sleeve falling almost to the 
 ground), was lined with scarlet brocade, and 
 trimmed with fur. The jerkin, or underdress, 
 was simply of black velvet ; and the pouch or 
 almonier, which hung on the right side^ and 
 served the purpose of a pocket as well as of a 
 purse, was suspended by a plain leathern belt, 
 fastened by a buckle of gold. Upon his head he 
 wore a hood of black velvet, and about his neck, 
 suspended by a purple ribband, appeared a small 
 cross, also of gold. 
 
 His countenance was pallid, and his brows, 
 which projected considerably beyond a pair of keen 
 grey eyes, were knit into somewhat of an habitual 
 frown. The mouth was large and conspicuous, 
 as the beard was only suffered to grow, like a 
 fringe^ around the lower part of the chin and 
 face. He at length ascended the steps before the 
 house of Sir Simon de Bete. He knocked upon 
 the door with his ebony walking staff; and a boy 
 opened to him the portal, who, from his dress of 
 many colours, his light hair and complexion, 
 with a certain heavy look and inaptitude to any
 
 12 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 motion of activity^ was doubtless a Flemish varlet 
 of the true breed. 
 
 The person who knocked at the door, having 
 addressed the enquiry if Sir Simon might yet be 
 returned home, was answered in the affirmative 
 with a " Yaw, mynheer" of the most sluggish in- 
 difference. ^^ Then tell him," said the enquirer, 
 " that Master John Lyon waits without, and 
 would speak with him." The varlet drawled out 
 another " Yaw, mynheer," and went to do his 
 errand as slowly as if his feet which carried him 
 were clogged ; and, whilst he is gone to inform 
 his master of the arrival of John Lyon, whom he 
 left in the hall to await his return, (for there was 
 too much consequence about the worshipful Sir 
 Simon, who was one of the chief burgomasters 
 of the city, to admit an unceremonious introduc- 
 tion of any person into his presence,) we shall 
 take the opportunity of making our reader 
 acquainted with the master of the goldsmiths 
 company of Ghent. 
 
 Sir Simon de Bete was a little, fat, heavy man, 
 whose whole person did not present one angle or 
 straight line. Indeed there was such a profusion
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 13 
 
 of rotundity^ that we can find within the compass 
 of our brain no other apt comparison for him, 
 than to say that he resembled one of those tubs 
 or firkins in which the merchants of Amster- 
 dam are wont to transport their butter. His 
 face was broad and ruddy, with two little bright 
 eyes that twinkled fi'om out the surrounding fur- 
 rows of fat like the small lighted wicks of two 
 such huge candles as may be seen to decorate the 
 altars of the catholic saints. 
 
 There was altogether a monied air about the 
 little goldsmith, both in his person and manners. 
 He walked like a man well to do in the world, 
 with a certain strut, as if his legs carried a bur- 
 then of some consequence. His shoes creeked, 
 and his mantle rustled. He was wont seldom to 
 doff his cap to any one, and he talked loud, and 
 generally gave opinions in an affirmative manner, 
 like oracles from which there is no appeal. He 
 would enter the exchange of merchants at Ghent 
 as the man upon whose smile or frown the fate of 
 its fluctuation must depend, and his refusal to 
 credit a rising trader was a certain signal that he
 
 14 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 was not, in our commercial phrase^ a good man, 
 or a man of substance. 
 
 As a burgomaster no one was more important. 
 Not Solon or Lycurgus could have ever laid down 
 the laws they instituted with greater force or per- 
 sistance than did Sir Simon de Bete, when seated 
 in the high-backed oaken chair of the town-hall 
 of Ghent, (with his little legs dangling down 
 because they could not reach the footstool,) sup- 
 ported on the right hand by a jurat bearing a 
 silver mace, and on the left by the sheriff of the 
 bourg with the keys of the city. 
 
 Sir Simon was a great stickler for the fran- 
 chises of his native town ; and any proposal in 
 the shape of innovation, alteration, or accommo- 
 dation^ was sure to meet his decided opposition, 
 unless it had been submitted to his approval in 
 private, before it was presumed to be broached in 
 public debate. 
 
 Yet there was no want of good-nature about 
 the little goldsmith ; for^ in truth, he liked to 
 seem the great man rather than actually to be 
 such. His dignity was generally put on or laid
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 15 
 
 aside with his official gown and staff; and he fre- 
 quently made himself uncomfortable by the 
 endeavour to keep up the grandeur of his assumed 
 character, when he would rather have left public 
 pomp for the comfort of a snug fireside, and the 
 unaffected convivial sociability of a friendly gossip 
 over a flagon of wine. In fact, Sir Simon might be 
 compared to a man who accustoms himself to 
 walk the streets on tip-toe, merely for the sake 
 of looking taller, but who longs again to tread 
 upon sole and heel, where he may seem less, but 
 can move with ease, within the privacy of his own 
 chamber. 
 
 Yet great as he was, he was not paramount; 
 for there were those (one person at least in the 
 world) who had the power to overawe the burgo- 
 master, as much as others were overawed by him. 
 Sir Simon de Bete was this evening dressed in a 
 rich suit of crimson velvet, lined with minevar. 
 His circular cap was ornamented in front with a 
 clasp of jewels. This cap, when not upon the 
 head, hung pendant over the shoulder by a long 
 band that fell down in front, and was ornamented 
 with a border, the band being called the tippet,
 
 lb THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 and the cap the chaperon. The broach or fer- 
 mail which fastened his mantle was also of jewels; 
 and a chain, heavy with massive gold, and of 
 the finest Antwerp workmanship, hung round 
 his neck. His pouch and long dagger were sus- 
 pended by a girdle of gold and jewels. And 
 although the long dagger was sometimes incon- 
 venient from getting between his little short legs, 
 so as nearly to upset the equilibrium of their 
 motion, yet being a knight, Sir Simon never 
 forgot that part of his attire, to proclaim he was 
 such. 
 
 The apartment in which the burgomaster was 
 seated was low roofed, but extensive in its dimen- 
 sions; the floor was of oak, and so highly polished 
 that it might have served the purpose of a mirror. 
 A piece of Persian carpetting was spread in the 
 centre of the room; for the commodities and 
 rarities of eastern nations had, even at this period, 
 found their way to the opulent traders of the 
 Low Countries. A woollen cloth of the brightest 
 colours, curiously interwoven, and manufactured 
 at Bruges, covered a table, and hung as low as 
 the ground. The chairs and benches were of
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 17 
 
 carved ebony, some inlaid with ivory, with 
 cushions of velvet fringed with gold. A buffet 
 having but one shelf stood opposite the windows 
 at the lower end of the room, and was filled with 
 plate of chased gold and silver of the finest work- 
 manship. 
 
 The chimney, which was large enough to 
 admit several persons within its ample sides, was 
 entirely lined with small tiles of earthenware, 
 each bearing some pictorial device, principally 
 from Scripture. The dogs that decorated the 
 hearth were of silver, with the arms of Ghent 
 on a shield, as the finishing ornament, at their 
 top. The apartment was hung with tapestry 
 from the famous looms of Bruges. It repre- 
 sented several subjects from Holy Writ; and 
 amongst them appeared that of the return of 
 the prodigal son, who, dressed like a Dutch 
 skipper, very ragged, yet very plump, was seen 
 coming to his rejoicing father, followed by a 
 couple of pigs. The father, habited as a burgo- 
 master, appeared directing the roasting of the 
 fatted calf to entertain him within the kitchen of 
 a Flemish inn ; having all the accompaniments of 
 flagons, long glasses, tubs, brass pans, and pewter 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 18 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 platters ; and the rejoicing of Heaven over the 
 penitent sinner was emblematically expressed by 
 two pottle-bellied angels in the Flemish costume, 
 who played upon the rebec and fiddle. 
 
 The fireplace (a luxury which the wealth of 
 Sir Simon had enabled him to introduce, in pre- 
 ference to the common stove of his country,) was 
 decorated above by an oaken shelf, upon which 
 were placed some of those figures, carved in 
 wood, that were then, as they are now, manu- 
 factured in Germany, but commonly known in 
 England by the name of Dutch toys. Those 
 which ornamented the shelf of the goldsmith 
 were of a pious as well as commercial order. 
 Saints, martyrs^ merchants, with the instruments 
 of their sufferings, or the emblems of their 
 traffic, in their hands, all stood indiscriminately 
 ranged together; whilst here and there was 
 intermixed some Indian or Chinese toy, such 
 as a pagoda curiously carved in ivory, or the 
 model of a Hindoo god. A Venetian mirror, 
 moreover, which hung opposite, added, by its 
 reflection, to the confusion of this heterogeneous 
 assemblage of persons and things. 
 
 The most beautiful as well as the most pre-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 19 
 
 cious ornament of the room was a fine picture, 
 the subject from Holy Writ, executed by that 
 great but now little-known artist John Hemling, 
 who not many years after this period actually 
 ended his days from poverty within the hospital 
 of St. John at Bruges. The arts, even at this 
 time, had begun to flourish in Flanders ; and 
 for beauty of colouring, richness, exquisite 
 finish, a faithful delineation of nature just as she 
 appeared before him, (but without any imparted 
 grace from the painter himself,) the works of 
 John Hemling have never been exceeded by 
 any artist, even of the days of Leo X. And 
 to prove the truth of this assertion, we could 
 wish all our readers, who may chance to travel 
 into Flanders, to visit the hospital of St. John 
 at Bruges, where they will behold that astonish- 
 ing production of his pencil, the marriage 
 of St. Catharine, with the decollation of 
 St. John.* 
 
 To return to our subject. Sir Simon was 
 seated at the table in the apartment just de- 
 
 ♦ For some account of the works of John Hemling, at Bruges, 
 see Memoirs of the Life of the late C. A. Stothard, F. S. A. 
 C 2
 
 20 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 scribed, partaking of some refreshment after his 
 return home ; and whilst he took a sUce from the 
 capon that was before him, and filled out a cup 
 of wine, he seemed to be glancing his eye upon 
 the rich-chased workmanship of the silver dish 
 in which it was served up, with all the critical 
 acumen of a goldsmith. Scarcely had he finished 
 his first cup of wine, when the boy opened the 
 door, and announced the arrival of Master John 
 Lyon. «* What," exclaimed Sir Simon, " my 
 very good friend Master John Lyon, the deacon 
 of the pilots ! why do you make him wait ? why 
 did you not bring him hither at once ?" Sir Simon 
 probably forgot, in the good-natured feeling 
 which the announcement of his friend's arrival 
 had excited, his own express order, that all per- 
 sons, before appearing in his presence, should be 
 duly announced. 
 
 The boy, who knew perfectly well both his 
 own duty and the dignity of his master, made no 
 reply, but hastened to conduct into the chamber 
 the deacon of the pilots. Sir Simon kept his 
 seat, till Master John Lyon had seated himself 
 in one of the heavy ebony chairs, which the boy
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 21 
 
 with some difficulty managed to bring from the 
 side of the room^ and placed opposite his master. 
 He then retired ; and as soon as the door was 
 closed, no third person being any longer pre- 
 sent to witness the condescension, Sir Simon 
 rose up, and stepping forward, his little round 
 legs brought him speedily to John Lyon, whom 
 he saluted with a hearty shake of the hand. 
 " How do you do, deacon ?" said Sir Simon ; 
 " very glad to see you — have not seen you 
 since I left Ghent — am just come home — 
 much news stirring ? how do you — very glad 
 to see you — take a cup of wine — and how does 
 pretty Mistress Anna, your sweet daughter?" 
 Sir Simon here stopt short in his speech, as if he 
 all at once remembered he was indulging him- 
 self in a too great familiarity of manner ; not as 
 towards his friend, but too free considering what 
 the habit of his manners ought to be. He there- 
 fore added, in somewhat a more grave air; 
 " We have some things of importance. Master 
 John Lyon, which we, who are the burgomasters 
 of this good town of Ghent, must discuss in the 
 town-hall, where time, place, and circumstances 
 c3
 
 22 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 may more befit the consequence of our own 
 persons, and the honour of the magistracy of the 
 bourg." 
 
 John Lyon made no reply to this speech, 
 which was mtended as a dignified opening to 
 some communication Sir Simon was desirous to 
 make relative to the business of the city. But 
 John did not ask what it was, and only answered 
 with that slight notice of the matter people use^ 
 who feel they must make some reply to a subject 
 to which they are perfectly indifferent. 
 
 Sir Simon was a little mortified, and thrust 
 his hand into his pouch, and there played with 
 some of the old crowns with which it was well 
 stored ; an action he was apt to use in moments 
 of peculiar dignity. He was preparing a yet 
 more pompous speech, when his keen eyes, which 
 twinkled with self consequence^ happened to 
 glance upon the deacon, and he was so struck 
 with the melancholy cast of John's features, that 
 he quite forgot the importance of knight, master 
 of the goldsmiths' company, and burgomaster, 
 in a kind-hearted feeling for his friend. " Why," 
 he immediately exclaimed^ " Why John Lyon,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 23 
 
 man, what is this? you look as dull and as com- 
 fortless as if some evil had befallen you. I hope 
 pretty Mistress Anna is well, and not in her low 
 spirits again." 
 
 " She is well," answered John. 
 
 " Why then what ails thee man ?" said Sir 
 Simon ; ^' why you look as if the Scheld was 
 blocked up, and all the pilots turned adrift to 
 steer without a rudder." 
 
 " And so they are or will be for me," replied 
 the deacon, " and your words are but too true ; 
 for us, at least, the Scheld is blocked up. I 
 am," continued John with energy, as he arose from 
 his chair and paced the room, " I am a ruined 
 man." 
 
 " A ruined man, John !" exclaimed Sir Simon, 
 " You a ruined man ! why this is inconceivable, 
 you surely cannot mean to say so." 
 
 " It is but too true," answered John, " and it 
 was to tell you of it, that I sought you." 
 
 " I had rather you had not told me then, dea- 
 con," said the good-natured burgomaster, with an 
 expression of unfeigned concern ; '^ for to hear of 
 the ruin of my friends is the last piece of intelli- 
 c4
 
 24 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 gence that could give me pleasure. But since I 
 know the worst, tell me all the matter of it. I 
 hope things are not so bad as to be beyond all 
 remedy. You a ruined man ! and yet you deacon 
 of the pilots of Ghent, and chief favourite of the 
 Earl of Flanders, his bosom counsellor and 
 friend !" 
 
 " I was all you say," answered John ; " but I 
 am neither now." 
 
 '^ How !" again exclaimed Sir Simon in the 
 utmost astonishment, "^ not deacon of the pilots ! 
 not the Earl's favourite ! why what in the name of 
 all the saints does this mean ? I am more and 
 more bewildered. Say, what has happened in 
 Ghent since I have been absent in Amsterdam ? 
 I am but this day returned home ; I knew nothing 
 of all this. But it is ever so ; no sooner do / 
 leave the city, than some change, some trouble, 
 some calamity, is sure to arise. Things never go 
 well when I am away ; in fact, a town without 
 the head or chief ruler is like a chain with a link 
 broken, it soon becomes good for nothing, it will 
 fall to the. ground, it will be lost, or disordered^ 
 though of the purest gold."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 25 
 
 : ^' It is true, most worthy burgher^" replied 
 John Lyon; " but yet I do not see how your 
 being here could have prevented what has befallen 
 me. I am ruined by the machinations of that 
 accursed Gilbert Matthew." 
 
 '' I know him^ I know the rascal," said Sir 
 Simon ; " a sly double-dealing rogue, who out- 
 witted me in the affair of the ingots and ducats. 
 They might have been had by the per-centage of 
 ten crowns the less from the commander of the 
 San Jago^ but for his cunning. Yet how can 
 Gilbert Matthew, with all his brotherhood to back 
 him, have injured you ?" 
 
 " I will tell you," answered John Lyon ; " for 
 hither I came not only to tell you of my grievance, 
 but to consult with you on matters that concern 
 us all. Our franchises are invaded, shaken, and 
 endangered." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed the little burgomaster, 
 as he started from his seat, " do you say this to 
 me, and whilst I hold my office in the good city 
 of Ghent ? No, not a franchise shall be touched ; 
 or woe be to the innovator. I will shew to
 
 26 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 all Ghent, and to all the world, who and what 
 I am." 
 
 Su* Simon raised his head, as he shook his 
 uplifted hand, at these words, and seemed some 
 inches taller, at least in his own conceit. The 
 liberties of Ghent, dear as they really were to 
 this zealous citizen, did not at this moment, 
 perhaps, so much engross his thoughts, as the sense 
 of his own importance ; and, although he had but 
 an instant before felt the utmost anxiety to learn 
 what were the misfortunes which had befallen 
 his friend, he was now most desirous to hear 
 what those innovations were likely to be, which 
 might call his own personal influence into action 
 to repel them. John Lyon, who knew perfectly 
 well the character of the goldsmith, saw he had 
 lighted the spark that was likely to burst into a 
 flame ; and, being resolved to obtain a hearing, 
 he somewhat unceremoniously stopt his friend in 
 the midst of an harangue on the value of general, 
 personal, and individual liberty ; and begged 
 him to resume his seat, as he could not long re- 
 main with him.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 27 
 
 Sir Simon complied, and John Lyon once 
 more continued. ^' I must be brief," he said; 
 «^ but first are the doors made fast? we must 
 have no listeners." 
 
 '' Listeners in my house !" exclaimed Sir 
 Simon ; " No, the rogues dare not come so much 
 as without the threshold of this chamber uncalled 
 for whilst / am in it. You may speak without 
 fear Master Deacon ; that is, deacon that hath 
 been ; for I think you said you were no longer 
 such ; so ran the theme of your discourse." 
 
 ^« It did so," replied John Lyon^ ''■ and I 
 must open the matter by telling you how I came 
 to be dispossessed of my office. There has, you 
 know, long subsisted an ancient enmity between 
 my family and that of the Matthews. But I 
 have endeavoured to live in peace with them ; 
 till Gilbert, some two years since, asked my 
 daughter Anna for his wife, as the means of 
 ending our family discords. This I positively 
 refused, to the great comfort of my damsel, who 
 could never endure him. But this refusal re- 
 newed the old quarrel between us ; so that from
 
 28 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 that hour to the present, he has sought in every 
 way to molest me, and to injure me in the favour 
 of the Earl. Now the devil^ who never rests, 
 but walks abroad to do what mischief he can 
 devise^ at length put it into the head of Gilbert 
 Matthew to propose to the Earl of Flanders an 
 increase to his revenue, making me the instru- 
 ment, as deacon of the pilots, by levying a tax 
 on the navigation of the rivers Scheld and Lis. 
 I knew how hard this would fall upon our 
 mariners, and discouraged the idea. What then 
 does Gilbert Matthew, but persuade our lord to 
 insist at least upon my making the experiment ? 
 There was a time when the Earl would never 
 have imposed such a task on me ; but there had 
 lately been some private circumstances between 
 my lord and me, that had somewhat lessened my 
 influence with him." 
 
 " Indeed," said Sir Simon, " and what were 
 they ? Yet I think, John Lyon, I can give a 
 shrewd guess at them. I will not, however, say 
 more just now, but attend to your statement of 
 this business. Had I been in Ghent^ Gilbert
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 29 
 
 Matthew would never have dared to propose 
 such a levy, without the sanction of the chief 
 burgomaster of the city." 
 
 ^^ You forget/' said John Lyon^ " that I told 
 you he was supported in his measures by the 
 Earl ; and that himself and his seven brethren 
 being all wealthy pilots of the navigation, their 
 influence could overrule the humble and poorer 
 class of the mariners. I was obliged at last to 
 propose the tax at the meeting of our pilots ; 
 when Gilbert Matthew, by his secret machina- 
 tions and intrigues, caused those brothers^ and 
 the other pilots, with one voice to refuse a com- 
 pliance with the very measure he had himself 
 first suggested to the Earl." 
 
 '' Just like him ! Gilbert Matthew to the 
 letter!" exclaimed Sir Simon; '^ always. double 
 dealing, turning and twisting, and putting on a 
 false shew ; like the Antwerp Jews, who give to 
 base metals the colour of gold." 
 
 '' After this meeting, I informed the Earl of 
 the refusal of the pilots to submit to an impost 
 either on their own body, or to consent to its 
 being levied on the foreign traders ; as it must
 
 30 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 eventually injure the navigation of the Scheld. 
 The Earl was displeased; and some other cir- 
 cumstances soon after occurring to offend him 
 in our private intercourse, I was displaced from 
 my office ; and Gilbert Matthew nominated as 
 deacon of the pilots." 
 
 " The artful, intriguing scoundrel !" said Sir 
 Simon ; " but when was this ? and what induced 
 the Earl to make him deacon ?" 
 
 " I have since learnt," replied John Lyon, 
 " that Gilbert persuaded the Earl I had failed 
 in fixing the tax upon the pilots from a wilful 
 mismanagement of the cause ; and so well had 
 he instructed his brothers how to act, that no 
 sooner was he made deacon, than what with 
 bribing some, cajoling others, and threatening 
 more, he brought them all round; the tax is 
 fixed upon the pilots ; and thus begins the first 
 innovation of the ancient franchises of Ghent. 
 A levy is now talked of to be laid on all metals, 
 from the finest gold to the basest lead." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Sir Simon, " an impost 
 on gold ! it shall never be ; no, never, whilst 
 I, Sir Simon de Bete, knight, master of the
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 31 
 
 company of worshipful goldsmiths, and one 
 of the burgomasters of Ghent ; whilst I have 
 a voice to raise against it, a ci'own to spend, 
 or a weapon to draw, Ghent shall hold 
 her franchises. The liberty of the citizen, 
 represented in my person, shall find her deter- 
 mined assertor. And all the world shall see 
 that whilst Sir Simon de Bete sat in the council 
 chamber of this town, neither earl, nor Gilbert 
 Matthew, nor lord, nor all the powers combined, 
 could make him yield one scruple of that liberty 
 he values more than life, and will maintain 
 with it." 
 
 Whilst Sir Simon made this eloquent speech 
 in a raised tone of voice, a noise was suddenly 
 heard in the passage leading to the chamber. 
 John Lyon did not particularly notice it, but Sir 
 Simon, who seemed to have a perfect compre- 
 hension of what the noise implied, suddenly 
 lowered his voice, and although he finished his 
 speech, the word liberty was pronounced in 
 somewhat a faltering tone. Steps now advanced 
 towards the door ; Sir Simon quietly dropt into 
 his chair ; but who it was that came, or of what
 
 32 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 kind was that noise^ which thus acted like a 
 sudden shock of electricity, to surprise and dis- 
 compose the nerves of the Flemish champion of 
 liberty, must be told in the next chapter.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 33 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 It is surprising, by a habit of attention to 
 minute sounds, to what a degree of nicety tlie 
 organ which conveys them to the mind can dis- 
 cover the difference between the smallest, or 
 least apparently various movements, knocks, 
 whispers, words, steps, and, in short, sounds of 
 all kinds and descriptions. Thus the servants 
 of people of fashion, in our days, can pronounce 
 by the very knock upon the door, to whom their 
 masters or mistresses will or will not be at home ; 
 the thundering rap of nobility being easily dis- 
 tinguished from the less imposing rat-a-tat of 
 middling life. And the masters and mistresses 
 themselves are often perfect judges between the 
 small slight knock of a soliciting tradesman, 
 and the confident, clamorous ring of an impor- 
 tunate dun. 
 
 In the same manner may the sounds that pro- 
 ceed from the lips or the feet be distinguished. 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 34 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 The no which means yes may be confidently 
 transposed in the mind of the hearer, if the first 
 monosyllable be pronounced with a slight and 
 hesitating accentuation ; a sort of no that hangs 
 upon the lips as if unwilling to depart from 
 them ; and the determined straight-forward 
 tread of an angry person, which scarcely turns 
 aside from any impediment that may arise in the 
 way, can be distinguished from the sober pace 
 of the unimpassioned, or the light brisk step of 
 the gay and good-humoured. 
 
 Sir Simon, by long habit, had become an 
 adept in discriminating between sounds ; and the 
 slightest word or movement which proceeded 
 from the Lady Judith was as perfectly compre- 
 hended by him^ even through the barriers of 
 closed doors or windows, as if no such obstacles 
 had existed. He knew her mood by her step ; 
 he could tell the degree of her anger by the least 
 word ; and the blood-heat of her wrath, or the 
 freezing point of her severity, were as well 
 known to Sir Simon, by a certain acquaintance 
 with small but sure indications, as if he had pos- 
 sessed an actual thermometer of her temper ; 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 35 
 
 which was more liable to change and variation, 
 than even the climate of our own charming little 
 island in the west. 
 
 It so happened that Lady Judith was one of those 
 persons who^ feeling a sense of their own uncom- 
 mon value, modestly think that all this round 
 world was assuredly made for no other than them- 
 selves, and that all things in it should submit to 
 their pleasure. Yet as there are bounds set to 
 every thing terrestrial, even to the flight of the 
 winds, and the raging of the ocean, that they shall 
 go so far and no farther, so likewise there are, for- 
 tunately, bounds fixed, beyond which the raging 
 of human passions cannot extend. Thus there 
 never was yet known a tyrant who could carry 
 his tyranny over all the earth ; and a she-tyrant 
 of private life, whatever may be her desires, call 
 seldom find opportunity to extend her despotism 
 beyond the precincts of her own house. But as 
 waters when dammed up are oft-times but the 
 more terrible when they burst their confines, 
 even so Lady Judith, from having but a small 
 sphere of action, poured out the sluices of her 
 wrath with but the greater violence on the unfor- 
 D 2
 
 36 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 tunate hen-pecked little goldsmith, whenever 
 she was resolved to discharge her burthen of 
 conceit, consequence, or ill-humour. And, like 
 all persons who unite with a despotic temper a 
 high opinion of their own powers and abilities, 
 she could not endure that any thing should go 
 forward in her house without herself being at 
 the bead of it. Whatever was done, and how- 
 ever well done, unless this had been the case, 
 was sure to meet with her decided displeasure. 
 
 Lady Judith was about as tall in stature for a 
 woman, as Sir Simon was little for a man. Her 
 hair and eyes were of the deepest shade of black, 
 which we have generally observed to be a sure 
 indication of a violent temper. Her lips were 
 thin and pale ; whilst a more than ordinary pro- 
 fusion of red was spread about her cheeks, and 
 encroached even upon the promontory of her 
 nose, which turned up as if in scorn of the less 
 glowing and more delicate hue of her mouth. A 
 good set of white teeth adorned the latter, and 
 as Lady Judith was by no means insensible to the 
 value of this pleasing addition to the attractions 
 of the human countenance, she was rather fond
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 37 
 
 of displaying it, and had therefore contracted a 
 habit of opening wide her mouthy grinning, and 
 hanging down her lower lip, which, when angry, 
 produced such a distorted expression, that she 
 might sometimes be compared to a snarling dog, 
 that shews its teeth before it bites. 
 
 We have noticed, in the conclusion of our 
 last chapter, that some slight sound or noise 
 occurred, which, although it passed unnoticed by 
 John Lyon, was perfectly understood by Sir 
 Simon, who, upon hearing it, dropt quietly into 
 his chair. Scarcely had he done so, when the 
 door of the apartment was thrown open to its 
 utmost extent, and the Lady Judith walked in to 
 give her husband a welcome home. The nature 
 of this welcome was already anticipated by the 
 little champion of the liberties of Ghent, who, 
 although a great man without doors, yet in his 
 own house scarcely dared to say that his soul 
 was his own, at least in the presence of his 
 wife. 
 
 When Lady Judith entered the room, she 
 threw a quick glance all around. Her husband 
 and his friend were both seated, (for the latter 
 D 3
 
 $8 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 had scarcely had the time to rise up, and the for- 
 mer was too much surprised and confounded to 
 think of it,) this the lady remarked, as well as 
 the capon and the flagons upon the table, and 
 the sight of the good cheer conveyed to her 
 active imagination the idea, that Sir Simon and 
 his companion had committed the offence of 
 enjoying themselves during her absence. There 
 are tempers so soured by their own perverseness, 
 that they cannot endure to witness in another 
 that social tranquillity to which they are them- 
 selves strangers. Of this temper was the burgo- 
 master's wife. It seemed, therefore, that the 
 suspicion, that her husband, who had never been 
 allowed one comfortable hour in her presence, 
 should dare to find it when she was absent, 
 added fuel to fire ; and the first exclamation, of 
 '^ So, Sir Simon, you are at your cups, I see," 
 which passed the lips of his spouse, pointed out 
 to the worthy observer of sounds, words, and 
 signs, that her wrath was already at a very high 
 point, with every probability of rising to a 
 degree still higher. 
 
 " And so. Sir Simon," continued the Lady
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 39 
 
 Judith, whilst she just noticed John Lyon by a 
 slight inclination of the head^ " you have made 
 a pretty business of it, indeed, to go jaunting 
 after your own foolish speculations at Amster- 
 dam, and leave me to extricate you from such a 
 difficulty as your own negligence has brought 
 upon you." 
 
 «^ What difficulty, my lady," said Sir Simon, 
 "I — I — I do not know of any," he added, in a 
 stammering voice, as if afraid to profess he was 
 even ignorant of having done wrong. John Lyon, 
 in the meantime, had risen to offer his chair to 
 the mistress of the house. 
 
 *^ You may keep your seat. Master John 
 Lyon," said the incensed lady ; " but do you. 
 Sir Simon, get up, that is my place ; get up, 
 and give me the foot cushion, for I am weary." 
 
 There is no situation, perhaps, more disagree- 
 able for a third person, than to be present during 
 a squabble between man and wife, especially if 
 he should be appealed to by either to give an 
 opinion, which would oblige him to depart from 
 his neutral ground of non-interference, and thus 
 necessarily offend one or both of the parties by 
 D 4
 
 40 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 SO doing. John Lyon knew this, and arose to 
 depart; but being earnestly solicited to stay 
 where he was^ especially by Sir Simon^ who felt 
 his courage to face the wrath of his wife would 
 even yet more desert him if left alone with her, 
 John remained, and resolving to observe a strict 
 silence during whatever scene might ensue, he 
 placed himself as near as he could to the window, 
 that his attention might seem to be engrossed by 
 objects without doors. 
 
 " And so/* continued Lady Judith, (when 
 she had seated herself in the chair which her 
 husband had vacated, to sneak away and place 
 himself upon a bench somewhat in the back- 
 ground, as if desirous of getting off as far as 
 possible from his ungentle spouse), " and so you 
 have made a rare business of it, with your stu- 
 pidity and your neglects, and here have I been 
 going to and fro, for the last three days, upon an 
 errand that would disgrace the lowest frow in 
 Ghent, and wholly unbecoming the dignity of 
 the wife of one of its chief magistrates." 
 
 The lady, who never thought upon the dignity 
 of her husband's station, excepting when any
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 41 
 
 addition to her own could be derived from the 
 mention of it, pronounced the last sentence in a 
 very high tone ; and the words dignity and 
 magistrate meeting the ear of Sir Simon, and 
 acting upon him with mechanical impulse, he 
 started up^ and ventured to waddle nearer, and 
 to take another seat by the table ; " I hope," 
 said he, " that my wife would never stoop to any 
 thing unworthy of either her or myself^ nor can 
 I see how I could be the occasion." 
 
 " But I can see and know it too/* answered 
 his wife, " for what but your own stupidity 
 could have allowed the finest chain of gold that 
 was ever yet worked at Antwerp, expressly for 
 the Earl of Flanders, and ordered by him of you^ 
 to be sold to that bold impudent Italian Bianca, 
 the mistress of your swaggering young burgher 
 Philip Von Artaveld." 
 
 " I," said Sir Simon, «' I sell the gold chain 
 bespoke by the most noble the Earl of Flanders^ 
 to the beautiful Italian stranger^ I never did any 
 such thing ; I — " 
 
 '^ Hold your peace," exclaimed Lady Judith 
 peremptorily, " hold your peace, it were better
 
 48 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 you did so than to be prating about Italian wan- 
 tons. What do you know about beautiful, 
 indeed ? You might keep your eyes, if you can- 
 not your feet, at home, I think," continued the 
 shrew, as she looked up, and gave a glance 
 towards the Venetian mirror that stood on the 
 opposite side, and reflected the tall lank person 
 and the fine dress of the Lady Judith. 
 
 " I am sure, my dear," replied Sir Simon, 
 " I only said so of Bianca, because all the town 
 talks about her beauty. No man respects virtue 
 in your sex more than I do ; and as for beauty, 
 I am sure I never thought about such vanities 
 when I chose you, Lady Judith, but only your 
 good name." 
 
 " You are a fool," hastily exclaimed his wife, 
 who was by no means pleased at this compliment 
 made to her virtue at the expence of her beauty; 
 " once more hold your tongue and let me go on, 
 and as for Bianca, she has more of fine clothes 
 and Italian airs to set her off than real beauty 
 — a Uttle thing as she is, scarcely up to my 
 shoulder." 
 
 '^ And yet," said Sir Simon, '' if all be true
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 43 
 
 that I have heard, the situation of Bianca^ how- 
 ever she may now be sunk in guilt, was originally 
 deserving pity." 
 
 " We do not want to talk about her," replied 
 the wife, " for she and you, Sir Simon, who 
 never do any thing without my advice but what 
 ends in folly, had like to have got us all into a 
 fine scrape; for no sooner had you departed 
 on that silly speculation to Amsterdam, than the 
 earl sends a command to have the gold chain he 
 bespoke conveyed to him immediately ; he de- 
 signed it as a gift to some one as a mark of 
 peculiar favour. The chain was not to be found. 
 When I, knowing it was for a prince, conde- 
 scended to give myself some trouble to inquire 
 about it. I then found it had been bought^ but 
 not paid for, by Philip Von Artaveld, for his 
 mistress. The earl was in a great rage because 
 the chain did not appear at his command. 
 Bianca declared it was her's ; and Philip Von 
 Artaveld^ so far from insisting upon its return, 
 offered the money to pay for it. The earl 
 threatened us, and you. Sir Simon, with your 
 wise dealings in prince's concerns, you he espe-
 
 44 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 cially threatened with all the chastisement your 
 folly deserved. So I this day took advantage of 
 Philip Von Artaveld's being absent from Ghent, 
 and sought the house of the wicked, where I 
 soon made Mistress Bianca, with all her assur- 
 ance, yield up the chain to me ; and there it is," 
 continued Lady Judith, as she took it from under 
 her gown, and threw it upon the table ; " but 
 now, Sir Simon, call the varlet; bid him bring me 
 water to wash, for my very hands seem polluted 
 at having touched a thing that came from the 
 wanton's neck ; pha, they are quite impure ; * for 
 who shall touch pitch and not be defiled.' 
 Call the varlet. Sir Simon, I say, and bid him 
 bring me a ewer of water." 
 
 Sir Simon obeyed as he was wont to do, and 
 she, with many compliments to her own virtue, 
 and many severe strictures upon all vices, and 
 all vicious persons, washed her hands, and vowed 
 she would not touch the chain again, even if the 
 Earl of Flanders would bestow it upon her. 
 
 Lady Judith was one of those outrageously 
 virtuous persons^ who never find one touch of 
 pity or of mercy for the sinner ; and who, being
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 45 
 
 either too acrimonious, or too disagreeable, ever 
 to have been tempted beyond the sins which 
 arise from their own vituperative humours, con- 
 sider themselves as patterns of excellence, and 
 miracles of virtue, upon which foundation they 
 build their own authority for abusing, censuring, 
 and condemning all the less immaculate part of 
 mankind. 
 
 Sir Simon de Bete, who wished for nothing 
 so much as a fair opportunity to be clear of the 
 presence of his wife^ eagerly snatched at that 
 which now presented itself; and^ saying he would 
 lose no time in sending the gold chain by a sure 
 hand to the Earl of Flanders, with an explanation 
 that it had in the first instance been sold by 
 mistake, whilst he was at Amsterdam, the little 
 goldsmith arose to depart, and John Lyon took 
 leave of Lady Judith and followed him. Sir 
 Simon whispered in the ear of his friend, as soon 
 as the chamber-door was closed upon them, that 
 they might now finish the evening at the Moon^ 
 an inn in Ghent where strangers and citizens 
 were wont to assemble to pass away a convivial 
 hour.
 
 46 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 The Inn, which was known in Ghent by the 
 appellation of the Hotel of the Moon^ (having a 
 large painted sign of that planet hanging over 
 the door-way of the ancient Gothic edifice^ where 
 a bush also denoted wine was sold within,) stood 
 in the market-place, and was alike frequented by 
 strangers and citizens. The inns of the period 
 of our narrative widely differed from the like 
 public receptacles of the present time ; since they 
 could not then, as they may be now, classed in 
 the positive, comparative, and superlative degrees. 
 They were places of rest alike for the traveller 
 of high or low degree, and afforded a bench and 
 a flagon, both to the chief citizen and the humble 
 mechanic, without much distinction. 
 
 The Hotel of the Moon was one of the largest 
 and most frequented in Ghent, whose host and 
 hostess, Gerard and Martha Van Dredgger, 
 took especial care, that the good repute of the
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 4T 
 
 house should not suffer for want of attention. 
 The husband, it is true, Hke most Flemish 
 husbands of the lower order, suffered his wife to 
 ply the labouring oar, whilst he did little else in 
 the way of business than market for the wines, 
 the corn and oats, spending the rest of his time, 
 like a landlord who knew well his calling, by 
 setting a proper example to his guests, to prove 
 the goodness of the wines, or the true relish of 
 his Dutch and French liqueurs, by drinking of 
 them as hard and as long as he could, which 
 Gerard often contrived to do at the expence of 
 his guests, who repaid his communications in 
 the way of city gossip, chit-chat, and politics, by 
 making their host the sharer of their flagon. 
 
 Dame Martha Van Dredgger was in herself 
 the perfect representative and epitome of all 
 good housewives in Flanders. She was a little, 
 tidy, plump woman, with not one part of her 
 figure differing from another, either in shape 
 or circumference; all was equally round and 
 protuberant. There was nothing about her of 
 the long compressed waist of modern times, 
 which, considering that so small a span is seen
 
 48 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 between the projection of the person above and 
 below^ makes us compare the figures of many of 
 our fair countrywomen, of the present day, to 
 that mischievous little insect called a wasp. 
 
 Dame Van Dredgger fully supplied whatever 
 deficiencies might exist on the part of her 
 husband in industry and management; she 
 bustled everywhere, and rested nowhere. The 
 guests were sure of a well-cooked dinner, a good 
 bed, with tables, cloths, and platters as clean or 
 as white as the drifted snow, in the accommoda- 
 tions afforded them by the hostess of the Moon ; 
 who, dressed in a petticoat of blue cloth, with a 
 red jacket and bodice trimmed with fur, was 
 always ready to appear before her customers, and 
 her plump fair face looked, as it shone with 
 soap and smiles, very pleasant, and very civil, 
 from beneath a cap of milk-white linen, whose 
 chief ornament consisted of a broad piece of 
 gold, which crossed the forehead, and covered 
 either side the temples. A pair of long gold 
 ear-rings that fell as low as the bosom, and a 
 string of beads finished by a cross of the same 
 material, hung round the neck, and shewed
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 49 
 
 that in this wealthy country, the precious metal, 
 which excites the hopes of all^ and the madness 
 of many, was commonly worn even by the less 
 opulent ranks of society. A large bunch of 
 keys, a rosary, and divers small useful imple- 
 ments, such as scissars, a sheathed knife, &c.^ 
 depended from the leathern girdle, which alone 
 formed the indication that Martha Van Dredg- 
 ger could be said to have any one part of her 
 person which might be called the waist. 
 
 The apartment, in which the guests generally 
 found both their welcome and their entertain- 
 ment^ was the spacious kitchen, a vaulted room 
 supported by columns^ and of such extensive 
 dimensions, that it served all culinary purposes, 
 without interfering, even in the smallest degree, 
 with the space necessary for the comfort of the 
 guests, whose olfactory nerves were rather regaled 
 than offended by the rich perfumes which 
 ascended from the chimney, stoves, and ovens ; 
 and to many of the Flemish or Dutch nation, 
 this perfume was doubtless as acceptable as the 
 savory smell of the flesh-pots of Camacho to the 
 hungry Sancho Panza, whose scum of geese and 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 50 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 capons that worthy pattern of squires to all 
 knights-errant ladelled out with so much gastro- 
 nomic alacrity. 
 
 The kitchen of Dame Van Dredgger formed the 
 territory, the sphere, and the glory of that busy 
 and notable housewife. Beneath the clean white 
 tables and dressers was seen, arranged in the 
 utmost order upon the tiled pavement of the 
 room, a whole armoury of brass pans^ copper 
 pots, and other vessels, whose brilliant surface, 
 from the frequent scrubbing and scouring of the 
 Flemish maidens, had at length assumed the 
 clearness and polish of so many mirrors. Upon 
 one shelf, apart from the rest, appeared a few 
 silver cups and flagons, intermixed with long 
 drinking glasses of a white and green colour, 
 and beneath was seen the vessels of pewter, 
 which emulated in their polish even those of the 
 rarer metal. A vast quantity of venison, game, 
 dried fish, with ropes of onions and flasks of 
 oil, hung from the ceiling in that part of the 
 kitchen nearest to the entry ; and at the other 
 extremity stood the chimney, where, with four 
 or five spits, the one placed above the other, the 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 51 
 
 cooks were busy in preparations for the evening- 
 repast. A stove of considerable size stood in 
 the centre of the room, around which the guests 
 were wont to assemble in cold weather. A bas- 
 ket-worked cradle in one corner, with a go-cart, 
 and a low chair fixed upon a rocking bottom, 
 formed like a boat_, proclaimed that the worthy 
 hostess of the Moon was a mother. 
 
 On the evening in which our narration com- 
 menced, Gerald Van Dredgger, and a few of 
 the mechanics of Ghent, were sitting in this 
 kitchen, and enjoying themselves over the de- 
 lights of a flagon of good liquor^ whilst engaged 
 in settling the politics of the city ; for as that 
 great help to getting through the leisure houre 
 of an evening, tobacco smoking, was then un- 
 known in Europe, social parties could not then 
 occupy themselves in doing nothing, with their 
 neighbours to help them. They could not then 
 whiff and sit silent, in the midst of a cloud of 
 rolling smoke, till their persons, like their ideas, 
 became dim and misty, through the obscurity 
 occasioned by drink and tobacco. 
 
 Whilst Gerald was thus pleasantly engaged, 
 e2 
 
 U- W4-
 
 52 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 he heard the well-known jingle of the large 
 bunch of keys, which, like the bells of a waggon, 
 constantly announced the approach of his spouse. 
 " What, Gerald, what man," said his better 
 half, as she bustled up towards him, " do you 
 sit there tippling and talking, whilst there is a 
 stranger at the door, who wants some one to bid 
 him in^ and to look after his horse ; get up, take 
 the beast to the stable yourself, or call the boy 
 to do it, and I will see to the gentleman my- 
 self." 
 
 So saying, the hostess smoothed down her 
 clothes, and, as she hastily passed by one of the 
 long dressers, just paused to give a glance at 
 herself in a piece of a broken mirror that stood 
 by the side of an old comb, and a few crooked 
 pins, upon one of the shelves. We suppose the 
 glance was satisfactory, for Dame Van Dredgger 
 looked uncommonly pleased as she smiled and 
 courtsied, and courtsied and smiled, and ushered 
 in the stranger to the kitchen or common hall of 
 the inn. 
 
 " You are welcome to Ghent, sir, welcome 
 to the Moon," said the hostess ; " pray, sit down,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 53 
 
 sir ; we have good beds, a table at eleven o'clock 
 forenoons, stables, a tennis court, butts for 
 archery, and every thing comfortable a gentle- 
 man may desire. What would you please to 
 take, sir ? a cup of Rhenish^ or of Piment? 
 or perhaps you would like, sir, to taste our 
 Amsterdam liqueurs ; we have them fresh im- 
 ported, floating in the bottle, as clear as crystal, 
 as bright as gold — the very best thing, they say, 
 a gentleman can take after a long ride ; and per- 
 haps you may have come from some distance, 
 sir, for your boots and your horse are covered 
 with dust." 
 
 This salutation of the hostess of the Moon 
 was so rapidly given, that the stranger could not 
 edge in a word in reply, and indeed he seemed 
 to be very sparing of words when he did reply 
 to it, as he very briefly told the hostess, that his 
 stay would not be long, and that he wished to be 
 private. The stranger was a young man of a 
 fine person, and easy address^ yet his attire was 
 rather plain for such a wearer, since it consisted 
 of nothing more than a green cloth riding suit, 
 with a hood instead of a chaperon upon the 
 E 3
 
 54 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 head, which the traveller^ contrary to the usual 
 custom, did not remove upon coming within 
 doors ; indeed he seemed desirous to shun obser- 
 vation, and his hood was drawn much closer than 
 ordinary about the head and face. 
 
 Now whether these circumstances, or the fine 
 tall person and noble manner of the stranger, 
 or the brevity of his speech, or all of them toge- 
 ther, with no small share of that curiosity which 
 is said to be inherent in the gentler sex, excited 
 in the bosom of Martha Van Dredgger a desire 
 to know who her guest might be, or not, we 
 cannot determine, but certain it is she tried all 
 her simple arts, in the way of civility, to find 
 him out. ^' She hoped he was not tired, as, if 
 he had come from Oudenarde or Courtray, the 
 ways were rough." 
 
 The stranger answered " No." 
 
 She wondered how the people had got on at 
 Bruges in the late dry weathei', since there was 
 no river in that town, nor fountains, and only 
 the water brought by pipes from a distance.* 
 
 * Martha was quite right, since the fine canal which now 
 runs from Ghent to Bruges, and waters that town, was not 
 made till 1613.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 55 
 
 The stranger could not tell. 
 
 Again, " She wondered how the people of Lille 
 liked the Earl of Flanders living so much near 
 Ghent as he had done since the death of his 
 countess, instead of staying in their city." 
 
 The stranger was unable to determine. 
 
 ^« She would like to know if the late Jacob 
 Von Artaveld was quite forgotten at Tournay ; 
 or if they ever spoke of his son who was in 
 Ghent ?" 
 
 Any news of the deceased father at Tournay, 
 or of the living son at Ghent, were both equally 
 unknown to the stranger. In short, after as 
 many traps and baits as the hostess of the Moon 
 could, consistent with civility, lay abroad to 
 catch her guest in some acknowledgment of who 
 he was, or where he came from, her curiosity 
 was all at once silenced by his desiring that she 
 would shew him into some private chamber, 
 where he might that night have a bed, as he 
 expected his varlet would soon follow with 
 another horse and the baggage. 
 
 The words varlet and baggage brought to the 
 E 4
 
 56 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 mind of the hostess an additional sense of the 
 consequence of her guest, and she even thought 
 that she might have been a little too free, and 
 have talked a little too much, but instantly obey- 
 ing his command, she led the way up a circular 
 staircase that stood near the side of the kitchen, 
 and led to a railed gallery that looked down 
 upon it, and crossed the whole apartment near 
 the vaulted roof. Having conducted her guest 
 along this gallery, she opened a door at the ex- 
 tremity which led to a passage, giving access to 
 the various sleeping rooms in the inn. Into one 
 of these the stranger entered. 
 
 The hostess then busied herself in putting 
 several little things to rights in the room that 
 needed no such attention, till the stranger, pull- 
 ing out a pocket-book with blank leaves, and 
 an inkhorn, sat down to a table as if to write, 
 and civilly dismissed his landlady. 
 
 " An odd sort of a stranger this," murmured 
 Martha, as she descended the stairs ; " a comely 
 youth though, for all that, but close as oak, 
 and no more inclined to talk than my good man
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 57 
 
 is when fuddled with an extra pint or so ; but 
 the varlet will be here soon, and I will get it 
 all out of him." 
 
 Scarcely had Martha reached the kitchen, 
 when a smart, spruce^ young man came into it, 
 and inquired if a stranger, habited in a green 
 cloth riding suit, was already arrived. The 
 hostess answered in the affirmative ; " and the 
 stranger in the green riding suit," she added_, 
 " I take to be your master, friend." 
 
 " It is very possible," replied the young man, 
 carelessly. 
 
 " Humph ! very possible," muttered Martha. 
 " A queer answer ; like master like man, I take 
 it. Your master seems to be tired with his 
 journey, friend ; he has come a long way, I sup- 
 pose," added the inquisitive hostess aloud. 
 
 " Just as far as his horse's legs carried him," 
 said the varlet ; " please to prepare us a good 
 supper ; let your capon be sauced with Dutch 
 oysters : put a flagon of Rhenish on the table ; 
 see that our horses be taken care of; and whilst 
 this is doing, shew me the way to the gentleman 
 in the green riding suit."
 
 58 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " A pretty way of ordering one about, indeed, 
 (and for a varlet too,)" again muttered Martha, 
 and then added aloud — "I am no hostler, 
 friend ; you must talk to my husband about 
 brute beasts and cattle. And I am not used to 
 wait upon serving varlets as if they were their 
 masters ; if you want your's, you may find him 
 by walking up those stairs, cross the gallery, 
 and the first door on the left hand is his room." 
 
 Scarcely had the busy hostess dismissed this 
 second impenetrable stranger, and ordered the 
 supper, when Gilbert Matthew, the new deacon 
 of the pilots, his brother Stephen, and Peter 
 their kinsman, entered the inn. The hostess 
 who was well aware (from the news that every 
 day circulated in her house) of the late changes, 
 and that John Lyon was displaced from his 
 lucrative station of deacon, and Gilbert ap- 
 pointed to succeed him, now made up to the 
 new court favourite, with a curtesy and a smile 
 set between every word of civility and welcome, 
 and immediately conducted him to the large 
 high-backed chair near the stove, which was 
 held to be the most honourable seat in the com-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 59 
 
 men hall. Martha was, indeed^ doubly busied 
 in making her new guest welcome, since she 
 knew well how bright was the face of his fortunes 
 at the present time. Thus does prosperity, like 
 a summer sun, make all surrounding objects 
 smile upon it, whilst adversity, like the nipping 
 frost, often gives birth only to chilling looks and 
 biting coldness. Gilbert Matthew, his brother, 
 and their kinsman, drank their wine without 
 noticing any one present, and seemed engaged 
 in earnest conference, whilst they looked over 
 some papers that Gilbert had taken from his 
 pocket. Gerard, the host, returned to his flagon 
 and his companions ; and Dame Martha busied 
 herself in alternately scolding the cooks, in a 
 small sharp under-voice, lest she should disturb 
 her company, and in watching Gilbert, to see if 
 she could offer any officious civility. Things 
 were in this positicm when the door of the inn 
 was swung open with some bustle, and the 
 burgomaster, Sir Simon de Bete, followed by 
 John Lyon, entered the kitchen. 
 
 Sir Simon, who had been accustomed to 
 receive the utmost deference and civility of treat-
 
 60 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 ment^ both from the host and hostess and their 
 company, was rather an inopportune visitor at 
 the present moment, for the chair of state, which 
 from time immemorial had been considered as 
 his own in this house, was already disposed of 
 to Gilbert Matthev/, and the hostess (who knew 
 exactly how to deal out her proportions of atten- 
 tion and civility to persons in place, and to per- 
 sons out of place,) was most anxious to cultivate 
 the good-will of Gilbert, whilst she was now 
 grown rather careless towards John Lyon; and 
 Sir Simon's bringing with him a man upon 
 whom all wise people had now begun to turn 
 their backs, (for most disgraced court favourites 
 are apt to grow better acquainted with the 
 shoulders than with the faces of their sun-shine 
 friends,) was a circumstance which put the con- 
 duct of the worthy hostess upon her very nicest 
 tact. 
 
 She wanted to shew to Gilbert Matthew that 
 she cared not the value of a brass pan if John 
 Lyon ever tasted wine again in her house or not, 
 yet she wished to preserve the favour of such a 
 wealthy and important personage as Sir Simon ;
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 61 
 
 and wholly to neglect his friend and companion 
 was not the way to do this. She therefore resolved 
 to steer a middle course, and to keep both sides 
 in view. 
 
 Yet still not daring to displace Gilbert Mat- 
 thew^ who took no notice of the entrance of the 
 last guests, and being fearful to offend Sir Simon 
 by offering him any less honourable seat than that 
 of the great high-backed chair, she prudently 
 resolved to forget to offer him any at all, and 
 to leave the knight to seat himself as he could. 
 Stepping, therefore, briskly up to him, she 
 assured him, " how glad she was to see him look 
 so well ; what would he like to take ? what could 
 she get for him ?" And as the politic hostess 
 was within the hearing of Gilbert, she resolved 
 to place her notice of John Lyon solely to the 
 score of his coming with Sir Simon; ^' any 
 body," she said, " that he was pleased to bring 
 with him must be welcome to her house, let 
 them be who they would, or what they would, 
 she was sure Sir Simon's friends ought to have 
 every civility for Sir Simon's sake." 
 
 " And pray, dame," cried the knight, who
 
 62 THE WHITE HOODS, 
 
 saw which way she steered, as plainly as the 
 mariner can tell when a ship at sea is making 
 her tack to catch a side-wind, " and pray, dame, 
 why may not Master John Lyon be here wel- 
 come for his own sake^ he is no such stranger to 
 the Moon, I think. And you, Gilbert Matthew, 
 must have learned before now the seat that 
 belongs to one of the chief magistrates of Ghent. 
 Please to get up, young man ; there are stools 
 high enough, and large enough, to contain the 
 green honours of a new sprig just planted in his 
 office." 
 
 Sir Simon had been much offended at the 
 want of the usual respect with which he was 
 accustomed to be received, and as he was not a 
 man to desert a friend because fortune had 
 turned her back upon him, he felt very bitter 
 against Gilbert for his conduct towards John 
 Lyon. And it must also be confessed, that his 
 having been so lately turned out of his own seat 
 at home, made him yet more tenacious of 
 retaining his right and privilege over the high- 
 backed chair at the Moon ; for feeling how much 
 he suffered from the despotism of his own wife,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 63 
 
 he was wont, as a sort of remuneration towards 
 his own self-respect, to exact from others abroad 
 that passive obedience he was obliged to yield 
 to the tyranny of petticoat government at 
 home. 
 
 Gilbert Matthew, who to a large share of cun- 
 ning imited a spirit of subserviency to his supe- 
 riors, when he could profit by it, and of insolence 
 to his inferiors, and even to his equals, when he 
 had nothing to fear from them, saw well enough 
 that Sir Simon's notice of John Lyon would do 
 him no good with the court party at this time ; 
 he scrupled not, therefore, to indulge the inso- 
 lence of his temper, by shewing disrespect 
 towards Sir Simon himself. And his new station 
 of deacon of the pilots had helped to swell out 
 his pride, (which had hitherto, in his humbler 
 fortunes, shewn itself but capable of inflation,) in 
 the same way that a sudden strong wind fills and 
 swells out the sails of a vessel, which till it arose 
 had only fluttered in the breeze. 
 
 Gilbert Matthew kept his seat, and looking 
 boldly and stedfastly in Sir Simon's face, as if 
 he scarcely knew him, and had not even a cor-
 
 64 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 rect remembrance of his name, (so true is it, 
 " that nev^^-made honour doth forget men's 
 names/') he said, " Sir Timothy de Bete, be 
 you magistrate or not in Ghent, I care not, this 
 seat I took before you entered the room, and 
 this seat I shall keep till I depart from it ; the 
 stools you speak of may suit the length of your 
 legs better than they do mine." 
 
 There is nothing more galling to self-conse- 
 quence than any reflection upon disadvantages of 
 person. Sir Simon reddened with wrath at this 
 scoff cast upon the diminutive size of the sup- 
 porters of his dignity. His words burst from his 
 lips in a torrent of anger, as he again commanded 
 Gilbert to rise and give up the seat. Gilbert 
 answered with yet greater insolence ; and John 
 Lyon could no longer forbear taking part with 
 his insulted friend. " Gilbert Matthew," said 
 he, " if you have no respect for the worthy Sir 
 Simon de Bete, who all Ghent knows to be a 
 good man — " 
 
 " Aye," exclaimed Sir Simon, " as good and 
 as substantial as any one who walks the exchange 
 of Ghent, Bruges, or Antwerp to boot."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 65 
 
 '< Gilbert," continued John Lyon, " give up 
 the seat, if it be only from that respect which is 
 due to a burgomaster. And your kinsman 
 there, Peter Matthew, might as well doff his 
 cap, for when did a burgher keep it on before 
 his town magistrate, if he knew what breeding 
 was." 
 
 '* I shall doff my cap, or keep on my cap," 
 replied Peter, as he raised his hand and clapt it 
 upon the crown of his cap, " to whom I please, 
 and before whom I please. You had better, 
 John Lyon, teach manners to those two 
 strangers who are just come down the stairs, 
 and are leaving the hall ; the one in the green 
 riding dress, I mean, and his companion." 
 
 '' They know better manners than you do, 
 Peter," answered John Lyon, " for they bowed 
 their heads to the company, although they did 
 not doff their caps as they passed out." 
 
 '^' You had better call them back to hear your 
 comment. Master Deaco7i-turned out," said Peter, 
 insolently ; " that, as they are travellers, they 
 may know you are now a man at large, with 
 nothing else to do than teach courtesies to 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 66 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Strangers, for it will not do to begin the trade 
 with us citizens." 
 
 John Lyon was not a man without passions, 
 any more than his friend^ and a war of words 
 now hotly ensued between all parties; for 
 Stephen Matthew had by this time also joined 
 in the quarrel, till Sir Simon quite lost temper, 
 and made a desperate effort fairly to pull Gilbert 
 out of the chair, whilst, at the same moment, 
 John Lyon attempted to knock Peter Matthew's 
 cap off his head. In the scuffle the little gold- 
 smith was upset, and, rolling like a ball some 
 paces forward, a table was overturned, which, 
 amongst other things, contained a flask of oil, 
 whose contents found their way over the face, 
 beard, and dress of the worshipful burgomaster, 
 and whilst John Lyon went to help him up, 
 Peter came behind him and tripped up the heels 
 of the ex-deacon, who shared the fate of his 
 fallen friend. No sooner had they once more 
 found their feet^ than they both united in the 
 effort to turn their adversaries out of the room, 
 and called upon Gerard and his companions for 
 assistance. 
 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 6t 
 
 The confusion was now general ; some came to 
 the help of Sir Simon, some stood up for Gilbert 
 Matthew, and a few remained neuter, staring in 
 silent wonder at what passed ; whilst the hostess 
 crossed herself, and blessed herself^ to think such 
 a fray should happen in her house. The noise 
 of what was going forward had alarmed every 
 one within doors, and a boy who had been below 
 doing something in a cellar, that communicated 
 with the kitchen by a steep flight of stone steps, 
 upon hearing the bustle came up to witness it, 
 and left the cellar door open after him. 
 
 " Out with them," cried Sir Simon, as he laid 
 about him several smart blows with his little 
 stout fists. 
 
 '* Out with them — turn the rascals out," re- 
 echoed John Lyon, " I will not see my friend 
 insulted by the proudest upstart in Ghent." 
 
 " Call the round," exclaimed the hostess, 
 *^ call the city watch, or there will be murder 
 done amongst them ; go, boy, call the watch, 
 they must be on by this time ; go, bring them 
 hither." 
 
 F 2
 
 68 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " Respect the burgomaster — do not strike a 
 magistrate, Gilbert," said the host. 
 
 ^* He has not honour enough to respect any 
 one^" exclaimed John Lyon, who was now at- 
 tempting to free Sir Simon from the hold of 
 Peter, as he came to the help of Gilbert. 
 
 " Talk about your own honour, John Lyon," 
 said Peter ; ^« but I fancy you put that in pawn 
 for a bag of old crowns, when you sold your 
 daughter's to the Earl of Flanders." 
 
 " Insolent villain !" exclaimed John Lyon ; 
 " I sell my daughter's honour^ or my own ! it is 
 a lie as foul as the mouth that spoke it ; say but 
 such another word, and I will knock you down^ 
 though you should die by the blow." 
 
 " I say it, and I know it too," answered 
 Peter. 
 
 '' Take that then^" said John Lyon, and he 
 struck Peter a powerful blow upon the head. 
 Peter, who at this moment unfortunately stood 
 near the opening of the door above the steps 
 which led to the cellar, staggered^ and in doing 
 so pushed against Sir Simon de Bete ; who.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 69 
 
 thinking it intentional, slipt aside before Peter 
 could recover his equilibrium, and he fell back- 
 wards down the steep flight of stone steps. The 
 noise occasioned by his sudden and dreadful fall, 
 was followed by a deep groan that struck with 
 terror upon the ear of the enraged disputants, 
 whose wrath being suddenly and effectually 
 subdued by this horrid and unexpected con- 
 clusion of their quarrel, they rushed down the 
 steps with one accord to see if Peter were alive 
 or dead. 
 
 What followed may be briefly told. In a few 
 minutes, Peter was brought up into the apart- 
 ment, and after many efforts being made to 
 restore life, they were found to be useless^ the 
 vital spark was extinct, for the wretched man 
 having fallen backwards, the neck was dislocated 
 by the shock he had received. 
 
 By this time the city watch had arrived. 
 John Lyon and Simon de Bete, who, whilst 
 they deeply regretted the fatal issue of the 
 quarrel^ and knew themselves to be innocent of 
 the intentional death of their adversary ; yet, at 
 the same time, they feared that with such persons 
 f3
 
 TO THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 to deal with as Stephen and Gilbert Matthew, 
 the consequences of the present aflPray might be 
 fatal to themselves. John Lyon, therefore, who 
 had been the imhappy instrument of this sad 
 catastrophe, now whispered in the ear of Sir 
 Simon, that he would endeavour to slip out, 
 and either take sanctuary in the church of St. 
 Nicholas hard by, or seek shelter with a friend, 
 who, he knew, could conceal him for the present : 
 and Sir Simon, who, with all his importance, 
 thought, " the better part of valour was dis- 
 cretion," resolved to follow his example, and to 
 steal away as fast as he could, and trust his future 
 and entire acquittal in this affair, both to his 
 own innocence, and to his character and conse- 
 quence in the city. 
 
 The body soon afterwards was removed into 
 an adjoining chamber ; where a barber surgeon, 
 who was called in, thought he might as well 
 exercise a little practice in pretending to recover 
 life, which, as he knew the man was really dead, 
 could do no harm to him, and might put a 
 crown into his own pocket. Whilst this was 
 doing, John Lyon quietly slipt out of the house
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 71 
 
 just as the watch was bustling into it, and got 
 clear ofF into the street. But when Sir Simon de 
 Bete made an attempt to follow his example, 
 his unwieldy bulk prevented any very active 
 effort to seize upon a lucky opportunity ; so that 
 before he could reach the threshold, he was 
 espied by Gilbert, who had returned to the 
 kitchen, seized by the collar, and dragged back 
 into the apartment, whilst the new deacon 
 loudly accused him of being one of the murderers 
 of his kinsman. 
 
 "la murderer of your kinsman ! I/' cried 
 Sir Simon, who, between the fear of his present 
 situation, and the indignation he felt that all 
 personal respect towards himself should be laid 
 aside, presented in his own person the most 
 ludicrous combination of fear and importance, 
 " I am as innocent as the babe unborn," con- 
 tinued he ; "for the love of mercy let me go ; I 
 say, let me go, or you shall know to your cost 
 who and what I am." 
 
 " We know that already/' said Gilbert, " for 
 you are both accessory, aye and principal too, in 
 the murder of my kinsman ; you are my prisoner, 
 F 4
 
 72 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 and on my accusation. Which of these men is 
 the watch for the city ?" 
 
 " That am I," said Timothy Vanderblast, a 
 glass-blower of Ghent, who now stept forward ; 
 " that am I ; what may be your pleasure ?" 
 
 <' That you take in charge the prisoner, and 
 receive my brief deposition, upon which your 
 authority will rest for his imprisonment this 
 night." 
 
 Timothy Vanderblast, who knew perfectly 
 well Sir Simon de Bete, and had sometimes 
 been accustomed to appear before him in his 
 official capacity in the town-hall, and who there 
 looked up to him as little less than the Earl of 
 Flanders himself in rank and dignity, seemed 
 now absolutely petrified at the words which met 
 his ear ; and turning towards Gilbert Matthew, 
 he asked him, " What he wished him to do ?" 
 
 ^' That you do your duty," replied Gilbert, 
 " and apprehend the prisoner on my charge of 
 murder." 
 
 " What !" said the city watch, " apprehend 
 the worshipful Sir Simon de Bete ! the burgo- 
 master of our ward ! The saints forbid. I have
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 73 
 
 not been in my office so many years, and know 
 no better than that, either." 
 
 " It is your duty, as the watch/* replied Gil- 
 bert, " to apprehend all persons charged with 
 crime." 
 
 " Is it the law ?" inquired the host. 
 
 " It is the law," answered Gilbert. 
 
 '^ No doubt, no doubt,'' said Timothy, " for 
 rogues and conflicted malefactors ; but not law, 
 I think, to meddle with magistrates upon. I 
 thank you, Master Gilbert, for teaching me my 
 calling." 
 
 " Fellow !" exclaimed Gilbert, " do your duty, 
 or the Earl shall hear what sort of an officer he 
 has." 
 
 " Fellow, indeed !" said Vanderblast, who 
 felt encouraged in his proceeding by the nods, 
 winks, and approving jogs of the elbow which 
 he received from time to time from Sir Simon, 
 who stood near him ; "no more a fellow than 
 yourself. Master Matthew, but as sober and as 
 honest a man as any one of his calling in Ghent ; 
 and not a man to be dictated to by you. Master 
 Gilbert, nor to be blown up by such a puff as
 
 74 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 you would send through his good name. The 
 Earl of Flanders, forsooth ! The Earl's officer, 
 I would have you to know, knows how to respect 
 persons as well as the Earl himself." 
 
 « You are a fool," said Gilbert ; " but I 
 insist, and I call upon every one here present 
 to bear witness that I insist, upon your receiving 
 my deposition." 
 
 " And mine," said Stephen, '' or you shall be 
 whipped out of your office for shewing favour in 
 despite of justice." 
 
 " God forbid !" answered Vanderblast, " but 
 that favour and j ustice should be properly repre- 
 sented in my person, both being things pertain- 
 ing to the law — the one being special with the 
 judges, and the other with the hangman : and 
 'tis most fitting justice should always come by 
 favour, as all other of God's graces do. I will, 
 therefore, take all your dispositions^ for the sake 
 of justice, which may be condemned therein." 
 
 Timothy Vanderblast being accordingly seated 
 in the high-backed chair, which had originally 
 occasioned the dispute so tragically terminated, 
 proceeded in the business in an official manner,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 75 
 
 according to his notion of that term. " And 
 now. Sir Simon," said Timothy^ " be so good as 
 to tell your own story ?" 
 
 " What," cried Gilbert, " hear the prisoner 
 .first ! He is the accused person — let me 
 speak." 
 
 '^ Peace !" said Vanderblast ; '' peace ! I 
 know what belongs to a judge — respect of per- 
 sons. Respect of persons is a part of the law. 
 Sir Simon, being your better, shall speak first, 
 prisoner or no prisoner : and while he disposes 
 his own cause, do you please, Master Gilbert, to 
 walk into the other chamber, for the law sunders 
 the witnesses for the sake of its jurisprudence ; 
 therefore the accused and the accuser must be 
 held apart, and the accused shall speak first, if 
 it were only for the love of justice ; as 'tis hard 
 to bear down a falling man, and most specially 
 if he be a knight and a magistrate." 
 
 Gilbert Matthew, who saw the folly of the 
 procedure, and that it was vain to hold debate 
 with ignorance and obstinacy combined, now 
 whispered something in the ear of his brother 
 Stephen, who immediately departed from the
 
 76 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 inn, and before Timothy Vanderblast could hear 
 out the assertions made by Sir Simon of his 
 perfect innocence, in respect of the charge laid 
 against him, Stephen returned with the chief 
 constable of the city watch, and the guard. 
 
 The affair was now speedily settled ; and not- 
 withstanding all the efforts made by Sir Simon 
 to declare his innocence, or to procure a ces- 
 sation of measures till the next mornings when 
 he promised to give security for his appearance 
 before his peers in the town-hall, he was carried 
 off, and by the order of Gilbert Matthew (who, 
 as a new court favourite, had much influence 
 with the chief constable,) Sir Simon was that 
 night secured within the prisons of the Earl of 
 Flanders : so many and so various are the tricks 
 by which fortune humbles the pride of the 
 wealthy, and confounds innocence with guilt.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 77 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Having seen the unfortunate little burgomaster, 
 Sir Simon de Bete, placed within the prisons of 
 the Earl of Flanders, and John Lyon secured for 
 the present by his escape from the vengeance of 
 Gilbert Matthew and his brothers, we shall now 
 leave them for a while, in order to introduce to 
 our reader Anna, the only child of John Lyon, 
 with whom it is time he should become ac- 
 quainted. 
 
 Anna was about nineteen years old, and 
 although born in Ghent, had been educated in 
 France, under the care of an aunt, who had 
 taken upon herself the maternal functions, when 
 her niece was deprived, by the early death of 
 her mother, of that care and superintendence 
 which no other person can so well bestow upon 
 infancy. 
 
 This worthy relative resided about two leagues 
 from St. Omer's, where she had brought up her
 
 78 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 niece in the utmost seclusion; for, excepting 
 the priest who instructed her in reading and 
 writing, and an old minstrel who was allowed to 
 teach her to play upon the rebec and the lute, 
 for many years she had scarcely seen a living 
 creature, saving her aunt, their few domestics, 
 a single friend, and now and then a peasant of 
 the neighbouring village, or a poor person who 
 came to ask alms at their door. 
 
 Within the last two years John Lyon, who 
 considered his daughter's education (which was 
 very superior for the time) must be now com- 
 plete, desired the solace of her company, and 
 therefore recalled her home to Ghent : and 
 feeling anxious she should know something of 
 that world to which she had hitherto been such 
 an entire stranger, with all a father's pride John 
 had introduced her to many of the families of 
 the chief citizens of Ghent, as well as to the 
 court of the Earl of Flanders, and to the Earl's 
 mother, Margaret Countess of Artois ; for at the 
 period of our narrative, the chief citizens of the 
 Low Countries had access to the courts of their 
 lords as well as the nobility, so great was their
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 79 
 
 opulence, and so important that commercial 
 character by which the country was supported. 
 
 Anna was everywhere received with marked 
 respect and admiration. The uncommon beauty 
 of her person, her few but rare accomplish- 
 ments, united with the sweetness of her temper, 
 and the artless simplicity of her manners, pro- 
 cured her so much affection and regard, that 
 she became an object of envy and jealousy with 
 many of the more nobly born, but less nobly 
 endowed ladies of the court. Anna was of a 
 light and delicate figure, gracefully formed, and 
 exactly proportioned. Her hair and complexion, 
 I'ke those of the generality of her countrywomen, 
 were of the palest brown, and of the fairest 
 hue, and the regular life which she had hitherto 
 led in the country, whilst it had confirmed her 
 health, had also given to her beautiful counte- 
 nance that bloom and animation, which nothing 
 else can so perfectly bestow. Her features 
 were small and regular ; her eyes, of the deepest 
 blue, expressed the tender character of her dis- 
 position, and whenever she smiled, it shewed so 
 pretty a dimple in one of her cheeks, that, if we
 
 80 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 were inclined to be poetical, we should say^ it 
 looked as if it had been there imprinted by the 
 finger of love to mark her for his own. 
 
 Such was the casket in which it had pleased 
 Heaven to place the rare jewel of her mind. 
 Anna was naturally good^ open-hearted, and 
 tender, with a more than ordinary share of 
 timidity, which had been fostered by the secluded 
 manner of her education. But what might 
 have been deemed an advantage to most females 
 in early life, entire seclusion, with her perhaps 
 had been prejudicial ; since it had fostered not 
 only her timidity, but an uncommonly imagina- 
 tive turn of mind : and as all persons endowed 
 with that finer quality of the soul, are invariably 
 prone to romance, or the beau ideal of things, 
 her imagination, uncorrected by an intercourse 
 with the world, (which is perhaps the most 
 certain remedy against the charming dreams it 
 creates,) had led her to expect human life and 
 its events to be modelled after the manner in 
 which her vivid conception had presented them 
 to her mind ; where romance had thrown around 
 her an existence all sunshine, beauty, and inno-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 81 
 
 cence. She suspected no one of guile, she 
 thought no one capable of treachery, and, almost 
 unconscious of the motive, she resolved to look 
 upon the world, and all things in it, such as her 
 fancy had delighted to pourtray. 
 
 Such was Anna at the time she returned to 
 her father's house at Ghent. The first mortifi- 
 cation she experienced, which somewhat inter- 
 fered with her visionary schemes of happiness, 
 was to find the character of her father so different 
 to what she had thought it would be. She had 
 imagined to herself all the reciprocal tenderness, 
 open confidence, and mutually noble and dis- 
 interested feelings existing between father and 
 daughter^ the one all condescension and kind- 
 ness, the other all piety and filial obedience. 
 How, therefore, was poor Anna mortified, when 
 she found her own father proud of her, but as 
 the means to assist his ambitious and daring 
 
 o 
 
 aims, without much tenderness in any other 
 view; wholly withdrawing his confidence from 
 her, mysterious in his manners, and treating all 
 those fine imaginations and sensations of her 
 mind, (which to her were the life of life,) as 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 82 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 follies, dreams, and only worthy the ridicule of 
 a sensible man. This was a death-blow to the 
 ingenuous feelings of Anna. Kindness would 
 have made her heart open as the eye of the 
 morning to welcome and reflect the first beams 
 of the sun ; but coldness and ridicule awakened 
 the timidity of her character, chilled and closed 
 her confidence; and, finding she had feelings 
 which could not be understood, the pride of 
 human nature, which exists even in the best 
 heart, made her keep locked within her own 
 bosom the thoughts that were answered but 
 
 o 
 
 with contempt. Anna loved and reverenced 
 John Lyon as her father ; but she was too 
 much awed by the sternness and severity of his 
 nature to make him her friend. 
 
 Upon the eventful evening, which has hitherto 
 occupied the previous chapters, Anna was seated 
 in an apartment of her father's house in Ghent, 
 which John Lyon had exclusively appropriated 
 for his daughter, and which in our times would 
 be called by a lady her boudoir. Her lute and 
 rebec lay upon a table, near which a few manu- 
 script volumes, that formed her library, were 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 83 
 
 placed within a fine cabinet of Indian manufac- 
 ture. These volumes consisted of the lives of some 
 of the most eminent catholic saints, a book of 
 songs, virelays and roundelays, a few of the 
 Italian poets, (for Anna was not ignorant of 
 their language,) and a little illuminated book, 
 which she prized more than all the rest, as it 
 contained the songs and poems of a friend who 
 had written them out for her^ and had caused 
 the work to be thus illustrated to enhance the 
 value of the gift. A crucifix^ with a missal lying 
 near its base, was seen in a small recess of the 
 chamber, and a frame containing a piece of 
 tapestry, upon which the taste and industry of 
 the fair Anna was exercised, stood near the grated 
 window. 
 
 The lovely mistress of the chamber sat in a 
 thoughtful posture, with her arm that supported 
 her head resting upon the table^ and in her 
 hand she held a letter, which she had just been 
 reading with attention. 
 
 Anna was attired in a gown of black velvet, 
 embroidered with gold, yet simple in its fashion. 
 It had only the tight sleeves as low as the wrist, 
 G 2
 
 84 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 without the incumbrance of those long and 
 hanging ones, which sometimes served the ladies 
 for the purpose of a pocket, as well as a part of 
 ornamental dress. The gown, set close to her 
 shape, and terminating just above the bosom, 
 left the neck bare, whose clear and transparent 
 hue was finely contrasted by the deep rich black 
 of the velvet. Her hair, parted in front, turned 
 up, and bound together at the back of the head, 
 (whose form was perfectly seen by this simple 
 fashion,) was covered by a thin veil of silver 
 tissue, and encircled with a fillet, or chaplet, of 
 pearls. 
 
 Anna again opened and read her letter. 
 She mused, and after a time started from her 
 seat, and seemed listening as if to catch some 
 sound she anxiously expected to hear. Again 
 she sighed, and returned to her seat ; but still 
 restless and uneasy, she now paced the chamber, 
 now walked towards the windows, and again 
 listened at the door. At length she exclaimed, 
 " Yes, I am sure I heard footsteps below ! — 
 Yes, they are coming this way, it is — it must 
 be " Her hands, as she held them pressed
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 85 
 
 together, trembled with emotion, and scarcely 
 able to support herself, she leaned against the 
 chair she had but just quitted, when the door of 
 her apartment opened^ and a tall comely youth, 
 habited in a green riding dress, entered. 
 
 " Henry !" ejaculated Anna, in a faint voice ; 
 " Henry ! why, why do you seek me again, when 
 
 you know " Her agitation was too great to 
 
 allow her to finish the sentence, and she only 
 added the words " my father." 
 
 "I know," replied Henry, " I know all you 
 would urge ; that I am to hope nothing from 
 you, without the approval of your father ; I ask 
 nothing of you, but to see me. I arrived but an 
 hour since in Ghent, when I wrote you that 
 letter from the inn, that I might not too much 
 surprise you by my presence. Jaques delivered 
 it with all the caution necessary. You have 
 granted me this interview; hear me then, I beseech 
 you." 
 
 '^ I fear," said Anna mournfully, <^ I fear I 
 have already heard too much ; leave me, Henry, 
 leave me, I conjure you." 
 
 " Never," replied the youth, whom she ad- 
 g3
 
 86 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 dressed; " I will never leave you, till 1 have 
 some assurance, that two years of absence, (and 
 of misery they have been to me,) has not entirely 
 effaced from your remembrance those delightful 
 hours we passed together in the woods of St. 
 Omer's, when Anna would come to meet me 
 under the old oak tree in the evening, as kind, 
 as innocent, and as affectionate " 
 
 " Oh ! do not name the past," said Anna, 
 interrupting him ; " all things are changed now. 
 I then knew nothing of the world ; I met you by 
 chance in the forest, when I was but a mere girl ; 
 you managed to gain access to my aunt ; you 
 were a student of St. Omer's, and she loved you 
 for your learning, and thought, kind and simple 
 as she was, that your society could benefit me ; 
 but she knew not how dangerous to future 
 happiness are such friendships and such meet- 
 ings, or you would never have been admitted, as 
 you were, to us. And now my father " 
 
 " Has recalled you home, Anna, and you 
 refuse to hear me till I shall have gained his 
 approval ; is it not so ?" 
 
 " It is indeed, Henry; I cannot hide the
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 87 
 
 truth. If you had his consent, you know you 
 have mine already ; but you have never even 
 sought my father ; you are as unknown to him as 
 you are mysterious to me." 
 
 " Nor must I see your father for the present," 
 replied the lover : '' there are circumstances, 
 which I cannot explain to you, that render it 
 necessary for his sake, for your own, and for 
 mine, that I should preserve^ what you too 
 justly term, the mystery of my character. I am 
 sincere to you, and I await but time, with the 
 occasion, to overcome these circumstances, when 
 I will openly ask, nay, claim you of your father 
 as my wife." 
 
 " How am I to trust you," said Anna, " when 
 to me, in whom you might surely confide, you 
 refuse to trust the plain and open truth, or to 
 explain what these extraordinary circumstances 
 are^ so dangerous in their nature. When I was 
 a girl, I knew you but as Henry de Cassel, a 
 student of St. Omer's. As such you came to our 
 house ; but even then with caution and mystery. 
 Your only attendant was your servant, and 
 beyond your name we knew nothing of your 
 G 4
 
 88 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 family. I was too young, and my aunt too 
 simple, to suspect you, till before I left her I 
 begged you, as I was to return to my father's 
 house^ that you would ask m^ of him, wishing 
 that a parent's will might confirm our affection. 
 You said you dared not do it then ; that your 
 family must not be known to him ; then you 
 talked about the future, just as you do now. 
 I have learnt something of the world since my 
 father took me to court — I have always found 
 courtiers fond of mystery, and 1 have no cause to 
 think them on this account the best people. I 
 would have told my father the truth, but that I 
 so much fear him, that when I would speak to 
 him I cannot find the heart to say your name. 
 And my father, too, " 
 
 " What of him ?" hastily inquired the lover, 
 who took alarm at the manner in which she pro- 
 nounced the last words ; for lovers, like cowards, 
 are frighted at a shadow. 
 
 " Nay, Henry," said Anna, '' I may have my 
 mystery as well as you may have yours, and you 
 cannot expect a confidence from me which you 
 refuse to return. But know this — that I have
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 89 
 
 reasons for thinking my father would not grant 
 his consent^ even did you ask it, as you one day 
 hope to do. Do not, therefore^ deceive your own 
 heart, and thus render me doubly unhappy by 
 keeping alive your own vain hopes. I have learnt 
 since we parted what a dreamer imagination is, 
 and I now begin to think hope no better than a 
 flatterer^ who deceives us to our ruin.'* 
 
 " Tell me, I beseech you," said Henry, '' tell 
 me what has chanced ; do not torture me with 
 this suspense ; tell me all^ and why you are thus 
 changed ?" 
 
 " I am not changed towards you," replied 
 Anna, " but I am towards myself. I begin to 
 suspect that this world is not either quite so 
 happy, nor quite so good, as I once thought it. 
 I have no mystery with you, Henry, about my- 
 self, or as far as I am concerned, but I must 
 not^ even to you, reveal that which would betray 
 some affairs especially connected with my father. 
 His confidence, however limited to me^ I will 
 never betray, although it induces me to think 
 you would have little or nothing to hope from 
 him."
 
 90 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " But I will hope, Anna, until I am con- 
 vinced you no longer feel an interest in my fate. 
 Hear me. Circumstances of the most impera- 
 tive nature exist, that for the present render it 
 impossible I should be explicit, even to you : I 
 will conquer them, or I will die in the attempt. 
 Your father's day of prosperity is past, he is dis- 
 graced with the Earl of Flanders, I know it is 
 so ; he is ruined by the machinations of Gilbert 
 Matthew ; it may be in my power to serve and 
 to save your father, for Gilbert's malice will not 
 stop at its present pass; and the Countess of 
 Artois, who rules her son the earl with as much 
 despotism as if he were still a boy, is no friend 
 either to your father or to yourself." 
 
 '« Gracious Heaven !" exclaimed Anna, ^^ why, 
 who are you ? whence come you ? you know all 
 our affairs, and yet it is two years since I have 
 seen you, and you are but now arrived in Ghent. 
 What does this mean ? you alarm me." 
 
 " Be not alarmed ; it means nothing more, 
 my sweet Anna^ than this, that although I have 
 been compelled to remain at St. Omer's till the 
 present time, I have not been unheedful of what
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 has passed in Ghent, when it contained my 
 greatest treasure in yourself. I have had those 
 in this city who have made known to me some 
 things^ of which even you were ignorant. But 
 think you, that a miser when he parts from his 
 treasure, though but for a while^ would not place 
 a guard over it to give him intelligence when 
 danger might hover near it? No^ I have not 
 been careless, nor in ignorance of what concerns 
 you or your father. I heard of his disgrace, and 
 hither am I come in the hope to serve him, 
 although not openly. And notwithstanding you 
 are so silent, Anna, it is not unknown to me, 
 that the Countess of Artois is chiefly displeased 
 with John Lyon, and angered with yourself, 
 because the world whisper that her son, the Earl 
 of Flanders, has more than once thought his 
 coronet an incumbrance, since it prevented his 
 offering his hand to the daughter of a burgher of 
 Ghent — a little creature who wins alike the 
 hearts of princes and of students." 
 
 Anna blushed and looked down, but did not 
 reply. 
 
 «' I have no absolute fears of the rivalry of the
 
 92 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Earl of Flanders^" added Henry ; " he could not 
 wed you, Anna, without the risk of forfeiting his 
 dominions, and you have too much honour, as 
 well as your father^ to yield to a lawless suit ; 
 and, indeed, the disgrace of your father^ I have 
 heard — but we will speak no more of this. 
 When shall I see you again, and where ? Here 
 I dare not stay long. Jaques is amusing your 
 old housekeeper ; she thinks me some one from 
 your aunt at Sf. Omer's, but I must be gone 
 before your father's return. When shall I see 
 you again ?" 
 
 " Never/' said Anna ; *^ you still refuse to ask 
 me of my father^ and I will not consent to the 
 disgrace of clandestine meetings. I was but a 
 child when we wandered together in the woods 
 of St. Omer's, but time, that has given me many 
 a heart-ache, with its lessons of experience, has 
 also taught me it is dangerous to trust to our 
 feelings." 
 
 ^' Nay," replied Henry, " it is useless thus to 
 deny me ; I shall be near Ghent, and I will see 
 you in spite of yourself. I have no thought but 
 does you honour ; the time will come when I
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 93 
 
 shall both claim and receive you from your 
 father. Why then should I be made a needless 
 sufferer during the intermediate space ? Besides, 
 your father's safety, even, may require that we 
 should sometimes meet ; do not refuse me." 
 
 " My father's safety," said Anna, " can never 
 be insured by his daughter's disobedience. Leave 
 me, I beseech you ; he will soon return. Your 
 letter took me by surprise — I had not time for 
 reflection — I granted hastily this interview, 
 before he could return home, but here and now 
 it must end." 
 
 '^ Then it shall end, indeed," exclaimed 
 Henry, extremely hurt by the resolute manner 
 in which Anna dismissed him. " I see how it is : 
 you are changed, time, new objects, or perhaps 
 the court, has taught you to be indifferent 
 towards me. And is this, Anna, the end of all 
 your vows — of all your assurances of a mutual 
 and faithful love ? Oh ! how different are your 
 feelings from mine ! I am ready to risk every 
 danger, to encounter every difficulty, only to 
 see you, rather than again endure the misery, 
 the suspense of absence. And can you so easily
 
 94 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 part from me ? and for an unlimited period ? 
 this is not duty, but coldness. But I see how 
 it is, I have flattered myself with false hopes, 
 by judging of the measure of your love by my 
 own." 
 
 Anna blushed^ hesitated, but her imagination 
 now only pictured to her the sufferings of 
 absence ; and unable to restrain her tears, she 
 wept bitterly, and again assured Henry that he 
 judged of her unkindly, as her heart was en- 
 tirely his own. Delighted at receiving these 
 renewed assurances of affection, he warmly 
 thanked her for them ; and with all the sudden 
 fluctuation of a lover's feelings, which can this 
 moment give birth to angry reproaches, when 
 hurt by some slight and often unintentional 
 cause of offence, and can now rejoice upon the 
 least shadow of hope, though but the shadow, 
 Henry again urged permission sometimes to see 
 her, if but for a few minutes, at any place she 
 would appoint, and Anna, with evident reluc- 
 tance, continued to deny her consent, but with a 
 less firm and determined manner. The recti- 
 tude of her principles taught her, that it would
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 95 
 
 be wrong to consent to this without the sanction 
 of her father ; but when she looked upon the dis- 
 tressed state of Henry, and saw his manly coun- 
 tenance bedewed with tears, as he urged his past 
 sufferings in mitigation of her future resolves, 
 she could scarcely find it in her heart to give an 
 absolute denial. 
 
 " Anna," said Henry, " I have numbered the 
 days and the weeks since last we parted, and 
 with me one idea has been present at all times, 
 in all places. I have thought upon you ; I have 
 watched the sun as it set in the west, and recol- 
 lected the time when we both did so at the same 
 hour, and when our thoughts might be said to 
 mingle in community. I have haunted the spot 
 where we have so often passed hours together in 
 the woods of St. Omer's, and I have wandered 
 and thought again and again of you^ till even 
 to the senseless trees I have spoken of my Anna. 
 And how often has your image disturbed my 
 slumbers ! and I have awoke feverish and unre- 
 freshed, to begin another day of dreadful sus- 
 pense, of doubtful anxiety. Do not, then^ I 
 beseech you — can you — can you have the
 
 96 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 heart again to make me suffer so much mi- 
 sery ?" 
 
 Thus did Henry^ with the sincerest affection, 
 continue to urge his suit, and Anna, doubtful 
 and wavering between love and duty, now listen- 
 ing to the dictates of her reason, and now again 
 giving herself up to the power of affection, 
 replied she scarcely knew what, and had neither 
 resolution absolutely to deny or to grant his 
 request. 
 
 Whilst this conversation was passing between 
 the lovers, Jaques, the varlet of Henry de Cassel, 
 was engaged in amusing old Catharine, the 
 housekeeper of John Lyon. Jaques was a light 
 French spirit of the brightest order, and whose 
 wits had been sharpened by poverty and neces- 
 sity, and refined beyond his station by more of 
 education than usually belonged to his class. 
 His master had found it absolutely necessary to 
 trust some one with the secret of his passion for 
 the beautiful Anna, and confiding in the fidelity 
 of his varlet (of whose address he had also a high 
 opinion), Jaques became the useful, confidential 
 friend of his master, in an affair where a breach
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 97 
 
 of trust might have been most fatal to all con- 
 cerned. Jaques had not been thus long the 
 agent of two lovers, without knowing that a 
 meeting between them, after a long absence, 
 seems so short, that though it should last out the 
 whole evening, it would still appear " brief as 
 any dream." Old Catharine talked of expecting 
 her master home, Jaques feared it, and longed 
 to give the lovers some hint that it was time to 
 part ; but not daring to betray his uneasiness to 
 Catharine, he was obliged to sit still, internally 
 chewing the cud of his own impatience. But as 
 Jaques was one of those people, who, notwith- 
 standing a gay spirit, have some share of com- 
 mon sense, he plainly foresaw that his agency, 
 now his master had arrived in Ghent, would 
 not be suffered to slumber ; he therefore judged 
 it as well to make use of the present opportunity 
 to form a sort of acquaintance with old Catha- 
 rine for the facility of his future affairs. 
 
 Jaques knew the world very well in his own 
 sphere, and no one could be a better judge of 
 the weakest point in the heart of a waiting-maid, 
 or of the most vulnerable in that of a cook. It 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 98 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 is true his experience had hitherto principally 
 lain with the younger part of the sex, but being 
 so great a master of the art, he disdained not to 
 shew his skill even with the elder. Jaques was 
 aware that the generality of mankind, be they 
 men or women, have some leading trait of cha- 
 racter, which, if found out, the knowledge of it 
 may be applied either for the purpose of sooth- 
 ing or of irritating the mind. He also knew 
 that human vanity is never insensible to flattery, 
 yet even with the vainest, the dose must be given 
 with some appearance of its being applicable to 
 their case. Thus he never complimented an 
 old woman on her beauty, lest the absurdity of 
 his flattery should prevent its taking effect. But 
 with a young woman, though her face should be 
 formed in one of those moulds, as if nature in a 
 frolic had been making a mask, he would con- 
 gratulate her upon the grace and the expression 
 of her countenance ; and he often made fools of 
 the old by complimenting them upon their wis- 
 dom. Indeed Jaques was so used to the cunning 
 of flattery, that he had actually flattered himself^ 
 and mistaken his own impudence of temper 
 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 99 
 
 (which was often successful by its very boldness) 
 for wit of the first quality. 
 
 " And so^ young man," said old Catharine 
 to this busy variety as, in pursuance of his plan, 
 he officiously assisted her in renewing the kitchen 
 fire, " you are come from our lady's aunt with 
 messages. It is a pity you came when John 
 Lyon was out, for your master up stairs 
 seems to have a wond'rous long message to 
 deliver. Pray, friend, do you know what it is 
 about?" 
 
 " No, dame, not exactly," replied Jaques, 
 " although I think I could give a shrewd guess ; 
 but you know serving varlets must keep the 
 secrets of their masters, unless, indeed, a young 
 man might hope to gain counsel for the sake of 
 his betters, by telling it to such a sensible, dis- 
 creet person as you seem to be." 
 
 *' You are a very civil, well-spoken young 
 man," said old Catharine, *^ and seem to have 
 as pretty a notion about what belongs to your 
 duty as ever I met with. Pray do me the favour 
 to take a cup of wine ; it is bad talking with a 
 dry throat, and apt to give the phthisic. I never 
 H 2
 
 100 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 talk so well myself as when I have tasted a cup 
 of mulled wine." 
 
 The housekeeper busied herself accordingly in 
 getting some refreshment for Jaques, who pro- 
 ceeded to amuse her with an idle tale, and as 
 many lies and compliments as he could string 
 together. Whilst old Catharine was thus falling 
 into the snares laid for her by the cunning 
 variety a knock upon the door summoned her 
 to it, and she returned saying, that a person 
 who seemed a good deal fluttered and hurried, 
 and did not look like a varlet, wanted to give 
 a letter to her young mistress into her own 
 hands. 
 
 ^^ Which you, of course, will deliver yourself, 
 dame," said Jaques (who had no mind his master 
 should be abruptly disturbed by the presence of 
 a stranger) ; " you will not let this person inter- 
 rupt your mistress whilst she is receiving the 
 message from her aunt ; such a thing your good 
 sense and discretion will not admit." 
 
 '• Certainly not," replied old Catharine ; 
 " and so I will insist upon the letter being 
 given up to me."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 101 
 
 ^' And as my legs are rather younger than 
 yours," said Jaques, '^ I will save you the 
 trouble, dame^ of carrying it up to your mistress, 
 and in the meantime you had better mull 
 another cup of wine, and think what reward it 
 would be proper for such a sensible^ discreet 
 person as yourself to expect for the trouble we 
 have given you this evening." 
 
 The last hint effectually upset whatever small 
 portion of common sense old Catharine might 
 retain ; it was all lost in the speculation of an 
 unlooked-for gratuity; and having obtained the 
 letter from the stranger^ Jaques bounded up to 
 his master, gave in the paper for mistress 
 Anna, and conjured Henry de Cassel to lose no 
 time, but to leave the house immediately. Henry 
 promised to depart in a few^ minutes ; Jaques 
 returned to taste the other cup with the house- 
 keeper ; and no sooner was he gone than Anna 
 opened the letter. She read the contents in 
 the utmost agitation, and exclaimed, '* Gracious 
 Heaven ! what can this mean ?" 
 
 " Speak," said Henry ; " I cannot bear to see 
 you thus alarmed ; what is in that paper ?" 
 H 3
 
 102 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " My father^" replied Anna, 
 to bid me throw on my mantle, and conceal 
 myself as well as I can ; to ask no questions, 
 but to follow the bearer of this letter, who will 
 bring me directly to him, as he must see me on 
 an affair of import, but cannot come to me him- 
 self. What can this mean ?" 
 
 Henry de Cassel was alarmed at such an 
 extraordinary message ; but it must be supposed 
 was as much surprised and as ignorant as Anna 
 herself could be, as to the meaning of John 
 Lyon's order. His daughter, astonished and 
 alarmed, yet fearing she knew not what, hastened 
 to obey her father's commands, slipt on her 
 mantle, drew the hood over her face, bid a 
 hasty adieu to Henry, and followed the stranger 
 as she was directed from the house.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 103 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 \Ve must now return to John Lyon, who, we 
 before noticed, had managed to steal out of the 
 inn without interruption, after the fatal fray ; 
 and by so doing had escaped the immediate 
 wrath of Gilbert Matthew, and a share of that 
 imprisonment which had fallen to the lot of the 
 good-natured and important little burgomaster, 
 Sir Simon de Bete. 
 
 Under cover of the evening, which every 
 moment darkened more and more each sur- 
 rounding object^ John Lyon pursued his way 
 without observation through many of the intri- 
 cate windings of the city. These were well 
 known to him ; and crossing several canals, he 
 at length diverged towards an ancient Gothic 
 house, which stood insulated, although within 
 the walls of the town. This house, surrounded 
 by a small garden, was so watered with canals 
 on either side that swept nearly round it, that 
 h4
 
 104 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 it seemed peculiarly sequestered, notwithstanding 
 the precincts of a commercial town. 
 
 John crossed a little drawbridge leading 
 towards the entrance of the mansion, and 
 knocked, but not loudly^ upon a huge pair of 
 folding gates, which opened into an inner court. 
 The knock was answered by an ancient domestic, 
 who, with much apparent caution^ let fall the 
 bars of a wicket within the great gates, and 
 admitted John Lyon, who was well known to 
 the varlet thus acting as porter. Whilst this 
 passed, both John Lyon and the domestic ob- 
 served a profound silence, excepting when the 
 former had just mentioned his name in a low 
 voice ; nor did either party break this silence 
 till the wicket was again secured. It was then 
 John ventured to ask in an earnest manner, 
 *^ If Peter du Bois might be seen ?" 
 
 " Aye," said the domestic, " and he has 
 expected you for more than an hour ; it is 
 well you are here, or he would, I doubt not, 
 have sallied out to meet you. But stay, we will 
 not enter the house by the door of the hall ; 
 come round the back way ; some persons are
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 105 
 
 with him now ; and perhaps,'* added the varlet, 
 in a lower voice^ ^' you might wish to see him 
 first in private." 
 
 "It is absolutely necessary that I should do 
 so," answered John Lyon, " and I must see him 
 instantly." 
 
 '^ 1 will manage it," replied his conductor, 
 with a most intelligent look. " He knows the 
 sign ; he will understand that you are here 
 without a word being spoken. Step into this 
 room ; I will leave you the lamp ; here you may 
 abide his coming." 
 
 So saying, the varlet threw open a door, and 
 ushered John Lyon into a room panelled with 
 oak, so dark from age, that the lamp, which 
 spread its long beams through the apartment, 
 failed to dissipate the darkness, and nothing 
 could be distinctly seen excepting a glittering 
 towards the extremity of the chamber^ which 
 seemed to be a reflected light from some polished 
 substances, as they caught the streaming rays of 
 the lamp. 
 
 When the domestic retired, and closed the 
 door, John Lyon, as he looked around upon the
 
 106 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 dismal aspect of the place, could not help fancy- 
 ing it was but an emblem of his own fate, an 
 emblem of that dungeon to which he knew all 
 the energies of the Matthews would now be 
 exerted to consign him. Whilst he was busied 
 in these melancholy thoughts — now pondering 
 on the best means to secure his acquittal, his 
 escape, or his safety, and again rejecting every 
 plan as hopeless, which presented itself to his 
 imagination, the door opened, and a young man 
 entered the room, whose features bore a strong 
 resemblance to those of John Lyon, but the 
 character of the countenance had more of 
 boldness, had a quicker glance of the eye, and 
 more energy of expression. There was, too, a 
 tincture of sarcasm which shewed itself in the 
 play of the mouth, and an undefined something 
 in the whole countenance, calculated to raise 
 fear in a timid mind. 
 
 " You are here, then, at last," said the young 
 man ; " I have anxiously expected you, but are 
 you alone — quite alone ? have you failed ? I 
 had hoped you would have brought " 
 
 " Do not speak of that now," replied John
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. lOl* 
 
 Lyon ; '' I have other and more important bu- 
 siness." 
 
 '^ Other business you may have, uncle," said 
 the young man, '- but more important you 
 cannot have. But you look strangely moved, 
 and there is much disorder about you. Your 
 mantle is rent, and your cheek is bloody : what 
 has happened ?" 
 
 " Murder," answered John Lyon, and he 
 struck his hand upon his forehead with the most 
 hurried action as he uttered the word. 
 
 '' Thank God for it," said the nephew ; 
 " then there is a hope that we must begin to act 
 as well as to threaten ; but tell me what murder ? 
 Whose blood has been the hansel of your steel ? 
 Oh, may it soon run in such a deluge through 
 this miserable city, that our canals may need no 
 other element but the life-blood that has issued 
 from the carcases that float upon the surface ! 
 Who have you struck with that good hand ?" 
 
 " No one, Peter du Bois," said his uncle. 
 
 " No one ! Did you not speak but now of 
 murder ?" 
 
 " I did," answered John Lyon ; " and my life
 
 108 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 is at this moment in the utmost peril of the law ; 
 you must conceal me as well as you possibly 
 can, till I can either find a means of escape or 
 some way to settle this matter ; I " 
 
 ^« Escape !" exclaimed Peter du Bois, 
 " Escape ! you leave us, uncle, and at such a 
 time ! at such a crisis ! no^ never, it would be 
 the ruin of our plans. Philip Von Artaveld is 
 not yet won over to join the enterprize, and if 
 you fail us before it is ripe, all goes to ruin. No, 
 I would rather throw open my gates to give you 
 up to the law, than shelter you only till you 
 could abandon our cause." 
 
 *^ You are hot and rash, nephew," said John 
 Lyon. ^' Hear me tell my tale, and then judge for 
 me; you shall know all." 
 
 Peter du Bois betrayed considerable impa- 
 tience, but the request was obviously too reason- 
 able to bear denial ; he listened, therefore, with 
 much effort, till John Lyon had completed the 
 narration of the events of the evening, and their 
 fatal termination in the death of Peter Matthew. 
 When he had concluded, his nephew seemed 
 greatly vexed and embarrassed, but did not ex-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 109 
 
 press one sympathising feeling for the present 
 danger which threatened his uncle from such an 
 oifence to the law. Du Bois paced the room 
 impatiently, and at length threw himself into a 
 chair, when he spoke in such a manner that it 
 would be difficult to say, if his discourse was 
 principally addressed to his uncle or to himself. 
 
 '-'- This is, indeed, most unfortunate," said 
 Peter. " At a time when we needed the most 
 active stir, you dare not shew your head abroad. 
 Philip Von Artaveld must be won; and that 
 old fool, too, that Sir Simon, we wanted him, 
 for he has gold — stores of lusty ingots I would 
 we could melt his fat sides into broad pieces — 
 and he is a prisoner ? Gold we must have ; we 
 are not yet ripe for action ; and to move before 
 all our engines are ready, would but break our 
 machinery piece-meal, for want of combination ; 
 their powers act not alone, each is the adjunct to 
 the other. What can be done? We must 
 delay our measures yet." 
 
 Here Peter du Bois paused, stood with his 
 head reclined, and his hand pressed upon his 
 forehead, and then starting in a moment, as if at
 
 110 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 once awakened from his reverie by a shock of 
 electric force, he suddenly exclaimed, *' I have 
 it, I have it ; this very fray of yours, though it 
 delay our purpose in the onset, shall yet but 
 strengthen our cause, — it shall help to stir up the 
 sluggish citizens. Hear me, uncle, you must be 
 free, you must be safe, happen what may ; for 
 the pilots will not rise without their old deacon 
 to head them. And as for this Sir Simon, this 
 golden calf, who has just wisdom enough to 
 know that his worship lies in the value of his 
 metal, let him rest in the EarPs prisons, if he be 
 there; not an effort must be made, not a thing 
 attempted to release him. I will make his deten- 
 tion a fire-brand to light up the embers of wrath 
 in those formal old citizens of Ghent, by beating 
 it into their brains, that to detain one of their 
 burgomasters in prison is a breach of their fran- 
 chises, since no magistrate can be committed but 
 by the warrant of his fellows. They will be apt 
 enough to stir at this ; they shall go so far, that 
 they shall quarrel with the Earl, and so for their 
 own safety join with us, from the very fear of 
 what they have already done. But for you.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. Ill 
 
 uncle, I repeat it, you must be free — safe, too, 
 by the Earl's pardon ; this will lull him into secu- 
 rity, he will have no suspicion ; for all depends 
 upon our first measures, that they may find the 
 Earl unprepared. You and Lewis de Male were 
 good friends once ; you must be so again." 
 
 *^ It is impossible," said John Lyon ; " you 
 know too well the cause that first estranged me 
 from the Earl's affections. And Gilbert Matthew 
 but seized an opportunity^ so favourable to his 
 purposes, to work the ruin that has fallen upon 
 me." 
 
 " I know it all," replied Peter ; '^ and you 
 would repair that ruin from the fragments of the 
 great wreck of the Eai'Ps tyrannic government — 
 it shall be so, but we must lull him into security ; 
 and the very cause which bred that estrangement 
 in his regard to you, must now, in some measure 
 at least, restore it." 
 
 " What mean you," said John Lyon, with 
 considerable agitation; " it cannot be. You 
 know my mind ; to what then do you point ?" 
 
 " To your daughter," answered Du Bois, 
 calmly.
 
 112 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 '^ My daughter !" exclaimed John Lyon, as 
 his eye flashed with an angry glance upon his 
 nephew. " My daughter's fame stands fair and 
 unpolluted as her own innocent nature, and it 
 shall never suffer dishonour for me, or for our 
 cause." 
 
 «f It shall not, uncle, whilst I wear a sword," 
 replied Peter ; ^' but yet, methinks, in a cause like 
 ours, some temporizing, some expediency, were 
 no dishonour." 
 
 ^' Hear me, nephew," said John Lyon, in a 
 firm and authoritative tone. " No man in 
 Ghent has been so deeply injured by the Earl as 
 I have. I am sworn to revenge my own wrongs ; 
 I am devoted to the public cause. To restore 
 our violated rights, our broken franchises, I will 
 peril my life, all I have, to aid you ; but my 
 child shall not share the general ruin, if ruin 
 should fall upon us." 
 
 " You cannot save her, whether it does or 
 not," replied Peter ; '' think you if our plots are 
 discovered, if our enterprize fails, that when our 
 heads blacken in the sun, whilst they stand to 
 feed the birds of the air, perched on these old
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 113 
 
 city walls ; thinkest thou that any man would 
 then dare to step forward to protect thy pretty 
 Anna, the daughter of a rebel, from the power 
 of the Earl ? her safety rests with our success." 
 
 " It does, indeed," said John Lyon, mourn- 
 fully. '' What is it you would have me do? 
 yet speak not of my daughter ; I cannot again 
 place her within the gaze of a prince, whose 
 lawless passion may be fatal to her." 
 
 " You were not always thus prudent, uncle," 
 said Peter, with a sarcastic smile : '^ there was a 
 time when the love of Lewis de Male, the merry, 
 widowed Earl of Flanders, seemed no such fatal 
 passion in your eyes. When it chose for its 
 object the daughter of Lewis's favourite, a simple 
 burgher of Ghent, my pretty cousin Anna was 
 then allowed to amuse the leisure of a prince." 
 
 John Lyon received this sarcastic speech of 
 his nephew with a look of stern resentment. 
 '^ What," he exclaimed, " to me ! is it to me 
 you speak thus insolently ? But you are safe, 
 for I am in your power, and thus you abuse it. 
 Hear me then, and learn more than I have yet 
 imparted to you or any one. To crush at once 
 
 VOL, I. 1
 
 114 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 this bold suspicion of my honour, I will tell you 
 more than you have dared even to think. I 
 knew of the Earl's suit to my daughter — I en- 
 couraged it — I gave it growth and opportunity ; 
 but not, as you would insinuate, to make her the 
 wanton of a prince. The Earl would have mar- 
 ried Anna, but " 
 
 ^« Oh, would that he had married her," ex- 
 claimed Peter du Bois; '' all Flanders would 
 have openly murmured, and perhaps rebelled. 
 France would have shaken off her disgraced 
 vassal Earl, and the rule of Ghent, long ere this, 
 had been modelled after our own will. But how 
 came the Earl to lose the honour of becoming 
 son-in-law to the deacon of his pilots." 
 
 Again John Lyon frowned resentfully at the 
 sarcastic insolence of his nephew, as he replied, 
 " The Countess of Artois, his despotic mother, 
 who rules the Earl as if he were still fettered by 
 his leading-strings, she discovered the affair, and 
 I suspect by the means of Gilbert Matthew. She 
 acted her usual part, ruled the prince by her 
 authority, and made her factions threaten him 
 with a breach with France, and declared she 
 4.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 115 
 
 would disinherit him as her heir in Artois if he 
 persisted. Thus was he wrought upon to change 
 his purpose, and from an honourable became a 
 lawless suitor to my daughter. Induced, there- 
 fore, by my own feelings to preserve her inno- 
 cence, and urged by the entreaties of my child, 
 I withdrew her from the court, and have since 
 kept her almost a prisoner within my own house 
 in Ghent. Anna never loved the Earl, even 
 when I hoped to place a coronet upon her brows ; 
 but fear for my life prevented her rejecting his 
 suit, whilst it was honourable." 
 
 " And fear for your life must now make her 
 obtain your pardon from the Earl: she must 
 solicit him," said Du Bois; " and this will give 
 you present safety, and afford us time for action 
 Send for your daughter on the instant." 
 
 " No," replied John Lyon, " I have solemnly 
 sworn to redress my own wrongs by the fall of 
 Lewis de Male, to revenge the affront he cast 
 upon my honour, in his lawless pursuit of my 
 child; and I will neither owe my life to his 
 mercy, nor shall Anna do an act disgraceful to 
 us both." 
 
 I 2
 
 116 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " If such are your resolves," said Du Bois, 
 " then hear mine. I will not shelter you, to 
 bring upon us all the fury of Gilbert Matthew's 
 vengeance, till we are ready to meet it ; nor will 
 I tamely yield my own neck to the headsman or 
 to the hangman; I will make one desperate 
 effort. In our present circumstances it is most 
 likely to fail, but at least we shall die bravely, 
 sword in hand ; and when we are gone, Anna is 
 left unprotected to the mercy of the gay Earl, 
 who will spare a pretty wench, though the 
 daughter of a rebel, for the sake of her blue eyes 
 and lily cheeks." 
 
 Du Bois followed up this speech with the most 
 artful arguments, to induce his uncle to allow 
 Anna to solicit the Earl for his pardon, and to 
 appear for a time to countenance Lewis's lawless 
 suit. John Lyon, whilst his nephew thus ad- 
 dressed him, paced the room in a state of the 
 greatest agitation, till overpowered by arguments 
 he could neither find resolution nor courage to 
 resist, he complied with the proposal, and wrote 
 the letter before mentioned to summon his 
 daughter's attendance, which Peter du Bois
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 11*7 
 
 forwarded immediately by one of his own 
 people. 
 
 The reader is already aware, that upon re- 
 ceiving the letter Anna hastened to obey her 
 father's commands. She followed the messenger 
 with a palpitating heart — her anxious mind 
 tortured by a thousand vague apprehensions for 
 her father's safety^ yet without knowing what she 
 had to fear, for John Lyon had never, even indi- 
 rectly, communicated to his daughter the despe- 
 rate schemes in which he had for some time been 
 engaged, and with men as desperate. Still, 
 Anna was not ignorant of the enmity which 
 subsisted between her father and the Matthews, 
 and that the loss of his lucrative station, as deacon 
 of the pilots, had been brought about by their 
 intrigues. She had also remarked her father's 
 silent and abstracted manner when with herself, 
 his frequent absence from home at extraordinary 
 hours, sometimes during half the night ; that his 
 nephew Peter du Bois was often closeted with 
 him ; and that now and then some strange and 
 ruffian-looking fellow came and went as a mes- 
 senger between them. Anna had once or twice 
 i 8
 
 118 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 ventured to notice these circumstances to her 
 father, but the severe manner in which he chid 
 her for observing in him what he would gladly 
 conceal — the mystery of his character — had 
 effectually silenced all farther enquiries. 
 
 It may well be supposed that her mind now 
 reverted to these things, and that she could not 
 help connecting them with the present summons 
 she had received, and an alarm for her parent's 
 safety. But, obedient to his directions, she for- 
 bore to make any enquiry of her guide, who con- 
 ducted her, by many windings and bye streets^ in 
 silence, with the utmost caution, to the house of 
 Peter du Bois; of which, in addition to what has 
 been already said, it may be noticed, that it was 
 an ancient and solitary mansion, which had for 
 many years stood neglected and empty for want 
 of repair, but which Peter, since the commence- 
 ment of his desperate plans, had thought proper 
 to occupy, for the purpose of carrying on his 
 schemes as remote as he possibly could from 
 public observation. The house, too, afforded 
 many chances for security in case of a pursuit, 
 since there was in it more than one secret pas-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 119 
 
 sage and chamber ; for it had been built at a time 
 when Flanders was disturbed by civil strife, and 
 was thus constructed for the security of personal 
 property. 
 
 When Anna followed the guide into the inner 
 courts and heard the falhng of the heavy iron 
 bars to secure the door after their entrance, an 
 involuntary shudder came over her whole frame ; 
 she could not help thinking that the door had 
 closed upon her with an evil portent, and that 
 she was now within the vortex of some dreadful 
 current, whose force she should be unable to 
 resist. Her fears, perhaps, were not the less, 
 because they had no defined cause: for her 
 imagination, at all times vivid, raised up at this 
 moment a thousand terrible images to connect 
 them with her own or her father's fate. 
 
 On being conducted to the chamber before 
 noticed^ Anna gave a faint shriek as she entered, 
 for the first object that met her view was her 
 father, sitting in a chair by the table; the lamp 
 stood on it, the light streamed full upon his 
 face, and shewed it pale, haggard, and marked 
 with blood, his dress soiled and disordered^ and 
 1 4
 
 120 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 his mantle, that had been rent in the fray, hang- 
 ing tattered upon his shoulders, whilst Peter du 
 Bois looked flushed with angry passions, which 
 seemed to have been excited by the vehemence 
 of his discourse. 
 
 Anna, pale, trembling, and almost sinking 
 with apprehension, rushed towards John Lyon, 
 and exclaimed, " Holy Virgin ! what has hap- 
 pened. Oh ! are you hurt, my father ? my dear 
 father !" Unable to add another word, she burst 
 into tears, and sunk nearly lifeless into his arms. 
 It was some time before Anna was sufficiently 
 composed to know that her father was really not 
 materially hurt, and that the blood upon his 
 cheek was solely occasioned by the skin having 
 been torn in a fray. 
 
 Peter du Bois resolved to strike whilst the 
 iron was hot : he witnessed the tender feelings, 
 and the agitation of Anna ; he saw this was the 
 proper moment to work upon her mind, and to 
 induce her to consent to solicit the Earl for her 
 father's life, when she had recently been so 
 seriously alarmed for its preservation. Peter 
 therefore conjured his cousin to compose her-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 121 
 
 self, and to hear the tale he had to tell, as her 
 father's safety, his very life, would depend upon 
 herself. Anna needed no other motive to over- 
 come her feelings, yet so great was her agitation, 
 that she could only beg Peter to speak out, and 
 assuring him she was composed, promised atten- 
 tion ; but her pale cheek and her trembling 
 hands, as she fixed her anxious eyes upon the 
 speaker, seemed to contradict the first assertion. 
 
 Peter du Bois then related the whole circum- 
 stance of the fray with the Matthews, and its 
 fatal consequence, and added, that as there could 
 be no doubt Sir Simon de Bete was taken and 
 secured, the Matthews would never rest till John 
 Lyon should be also a prisoner; and that she 
 must herself be aware nothing short of his life 
 would satisfy the malice and the vengeance of 
 Gilbert. 
 
 Anna, whose sense was as lively as her imagi- 
 nation, needed to hear no more. In a moment 
 she saw all the real danger which threatened her 
 father, and guessed in what manner she was to 
 be employed to avert it. Shocked and over- 
 come by the dreadful prospect of her father's
 
 122 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 death, or her own ruin, in the agony of her 
 feehngs she clasped her hands together with 
 fearful energy, looked up, and exclaimed^ " Oh, 
 Heaven save and protect me from this most 
 dreadful trial ! — yet my father, my poor 
 father !" 
 
 At this instant the door of the chamber 
 burst open, and the domestic who acted as 
 porter rushed in and hastily said, " Save your- 
 selves ; do what you can for shelter ; the city 
 watch and a strong guard are without the gates ; 
 they demand to search the house for John 
 Lyon, who is accused of murder, and supposed 
 to have taken shelter here." 
 
 The confusion and distress of all present at 
 the moment, upon hearing this intelligence, may 
 be readily conceived. Anna started up, and 
 clasping Peter du Bois by the arm, she said, 
 distractedly, " Oh, save him ! save him ! Is 
 there no way to save him ? I will do all you 
 wish — I will do any thing, only save my 
 father." 
 
 " I can, I will save him," replied Du Bois ; 
 '* follow me on the instant, but as you value
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 123 
 
 your father's life, be silent. I must take you 
 where you will find some things that may sur- 
 prise and shock a woman. Beware then. Utter 
 but one word, one cry, and your father's body, 
 ere to morrow morning, will hang upon the 
 provost's tree, to feed the ravens. Follow in 
 silence — not a moment is to be lost. Here, 
 fellow," he added, turning to the domestic, 
 '• take up the lamp, and lead the way ; you 
 know what to do. John Lyon support your 
 daughter ; let her draw her mantle about her 
 head ; we must to the council chamber." 
 
 " Must my daughter go there ?" said John. 
 " I will follow you. Let her abide here ; the 
 ofl&cers of justice will not harm her." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Du Bois, ^' leave her 
 to ruin us all ! No ; if they find the young 
 bird, they will know well enough the old one 
 lies near the bush. Happen what may, she 
 must descend with us. Have no fears, my pretty 
 cousin, only be silent. Your father's life, your 
 own, is at stake ; for I must take you where 
 there are those whose poignards follow the
 
 124 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 slightest cause of suspicion. And mark me, 
 whatever you may see or hear, it must find its 
 grave in your bosom: remember your father's 
 life." 
 
 " Say no more, say no more," cried Anna, 
 eagerly; " I will follow as patient as the victim 
 to the altar, only save him ; but oh^ let us hasten_, 
 I heard a noise ; surely they strike upon the 
 gates." 
 
 '^ They do, indeed," said Du Bois; " hasten, 
 or we are lost." So saying, he hastily led the 
 way down a flight of dark stone stairs into a 
 lower and ruinous apartment. Partly filled with 
 billets of wood, straw, and empty casks, it 
 seemed as if this place was only used as a recep- 
 tacle for rubbish. 
 
 " Be quick," said Peter to the servant ; " re- 
 move that pile of wood, and fail not to replace 
 it the moment we have descended ; then leave 
 open the door of this chamber, that there may 
 be no appearance of concealment ; and do you 
 hasten back, and conduct the officers into every 
 place in the house and garden. If they ask for
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 125 
 
 me^ say I am not yet returned from Bruges. 
 So, now descend ; give me the lamp. Your 
 hand, my cousin ; I will lead you down." 
 
 Whilst Peter had been speaking, the servant 
 had removed the wood, and raised a trap-door 
 it had concealed; this door opened upon what 
 now appeared a dark pit or gulph below ; but 
 when Du Bois held up the lamp as he descended 
 a few steps, the trembling Anna saw that they 
 had a flight of winding stairs yet to descend. 
 She gave her hand to Peter^ and summoning all 
 her fortitude to her aid, followed in silence. 
 John Lyon remained a moment behind them, 
 and closed the trap-door after him ; Anna re- 
 marked this, and thought it was a proof he must 
 be familiar with its secret spring. She heard 
 the servant replace the wood upon it above, and 
 then his retiring footsteps died away in silence. 
 
 " Stalpert is a churl," said Du Bois, softly^ 
 " but he is tried, cunning, and faithful ; he will 
 manage well enough with the officers ; yet follow 
 me, we are nearly descended." Anna again 
 gave him her hand, for she had quitted her hold 
 for a moment to look back at her father. Du
 
 126 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Bois at length led her through a narrow passage, 
 which was terminated by a door. Here Peter 
 stopt a moment ; he raised the lamp, so as 
 to let its light fall upon the countenance of 
 Anna. 
 
 " You are very pale^ my pretty cousin," he 
 said, looking stedfastly upon her ; " draw your 
 mantle closer ; now, now is your moment of 
 trial ; take your father's arm ; enter by yonder 
 door when I shall bid you ; but remember that 
 a word of fear, but one word of distrust, doubt, 
 or even of curiosity, may cost you life. Stay 
 here for a few minutes ; I must go in first to 
 prepare " 
 
 " No, Du Bois," said John Lyon, " let her 
 not enter that chamber. I will go with you ; 
 let us leave my child here." 
 
 '« I dare not do it," replied Peter; " should it 
 be known that I brought any one so near them, 
 and conceal it too, that person would not be 
 suffered to leave this place alive ; she must pass 
 in with you, but I will prepare them, never 
 fear." 
 
 So saying, Du Bois gave the lamp to his
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 127 
 
 uncle, passed on to the extremity of the passage, 
 and opened the door ; he entered, and instantly 
 closed it. Anna heard a confused murmur of 
 voices from within the chamber ; but after Peter's 
 entrance the murmur decreased, and at length 
 there was a total silence. John Lyon, during 
 this interval, seemed wholly abstracted ; he 
 looked upon his daughter with a countenance 
 in which a calm, fixed, and serious purpose ap- 
 peared depicted, but he spoke not. At length 
 his nephew returned, and made a sign to them, 
 with his hand, to follow him into the adjoining 
 chamber.
 
 128 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 CHAP- VI. 
 
 During the late scene, Anna felt convinced 
 that her father was engaged in some mysterious, 
 and, she feared, dreadful enterprise, of which 
 she had hitherto been kept in ignorance. She 
 now thought that it might be quite as dangerous 
 to him^ perhaps, as the consequences of the late 
 fi-ay, which had involved him in a charge of 
 murder. She summoned, therefore, all her 
 resolution of mind to her aid. Her own inno- 
 cence gave her some degree of courage ; and, 
 conscious that a desire to save her father, if pos- 
 sible, from the perils that surrounded him, must 
 be an acceptable motive in the eye of Heaven, 
 she determined to observe whatever might pass, 
 to obey the injunctions laid upon her, neither 
 to betray fear nor curiosity, and hoped, by so 
 doing, to obtain a more complete knowledge of 
 these dark proceedings, with the view that she 
 might ultimately prove of service to her parent.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 129 
 
 It was fortunate for Anna that she had pos- 
 sessed this interval of time, which, by a few 
 minutes reflection, enabled her to form these 
 resolutions before she followed Peter du Bois 
 into the chamber of midnight council ; otherwise 
 her courage might have forsaken her, in the 
 feelings of astonishment and dismay that filled 
 her whole heart, upon the first view of the in- 
 mates of the chamber. 
 
 The apartment she now entered was a low 
 vaulted room, built entirely of stone_, with walls 
 of massive thickness ; the door was of iron, with 
 bars and chains to secure it, for the place had 
 once been used to conceal both persons and 
 treasure, during the dangers of a civil war. A 
 long oak table stood in the midst, surrounded by 
 a bench and some old chairs. From the centre 
 of the groined arch of the ceiling hung an iron 
 lamp, which flamed high, and threw a red glare 
 upon every thing around. 
 
 When Peter du Bois entered with John Lyon 
 and his daughter, the most profound silence 
 reigned amongst the inmates of this subterranean 
 chamber, for no one dared speak whilst the 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 130 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 officers of justice were known to be searching 
 the house above, lest the least sound should 
 betray this place of refuge and security. Anna 
 cast a hurried and a terrified glance around, and 
 as if overpowered by the fearful objects that met 
 her eyes, she closed them for a moment, and 
 sunk her head upon the arm of her father. 
 Indeed such a groupe, and so assembled, had 
 never before presented itself to a young woman, 
 whose early life had been passed in rural re- 
 tirement, and latterly within the precincts of a 
 court, and in the midst of an opulent city. 
 
 At the head of the oak table, there was seated 
 a man, whose aspect seemed stamped with the 
 image of his mind ; he looked fit for rapine or for 
 murder. A meagre figure, dressed in blacky sat 
 next to him, whose bones seemed starting through 
 a dry and shrivelled skin, the living repre- 
 sentative of poverty and famine. Others there 
 were of bold, hardy, and ferocious countenances. 
 Two or three, even in this abyss of concealment, 
 sat muffled in cloaks, as if fearful of the glance 
 of their very companions. Some, by the wretched 
 and negligent state of their apparel, looked 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 131 
 
 beggared in fortune ; but all were armed with 
 more than one weapon, which, since the late 
 alarm^ communicated by Du Bois, many had 
 unsheathed, as if prepared for defence. Upon 
 the table lay several papers ; and amongst the 
 party was seen a monk, who, it appeared^ by 
 the inkhorn and pens that stood before him, 
 acted the part of secretary to the council. 
 
 " Good God !" thought Anna, as she once 
 more raised her head, and stole another fearful 
 glance around her, '* Can my father be the 
 associate of wretches like these ? a monk too ! 
 Oh, can religion mingle itself with men who 
 look like midnight assassins." 
 
 In the stern and ruffian aspect of each man 
 assembled round the table, a deep and attentive 
 anxiety was depicted — no one spoke — no one 
 moved ; their very respiration seemed as much 
 as possible subdued; but silence added yet a 
 greater horror to the scene, since it left but 
 leisure for the imagination to fill up the void, 
 with that voice which is never stronger than 
 when it speaks to the mind in moments of fear. 
 John Lyon and his daughter still kept their 
 k2
 
 132 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Station by the door, and Peter du Bois was 
 near them, now looking upon the assembly^ and 
 now at Anna, with a mixture of doubt and ap- 
 prehension. Anna thought he might fear that 
 she had forgotten his injunctions, and in order 
 to re-assure him, she stood as erect and firm as 
 her trembling frame would let her. 
 
 This profound silence continued for more 
 than half an hour, during which, even in this 
 dark recess, the sounds and noise of persons 
 passing above, as in tumult, could be distinctly 
 heard. At length they gradually died away, 
 and all again was stillness, yet no one spoke : 
 all was hushed and calm; but to the terrified 
 imagination of Anna, it seemed only like that 
 deep, dead stillness, which sometimes precedes 
 the coming storm, and is at length broken by 
 the low and distant thunder, gathering force as 
 it rolls nearer and nearer onward, till it bursts 
 at once with all its accumulated fury. And so 
 was it now ; for no sooner had a shrill whistle 
 from above met the ears of the assembly below, 
 (as the signal from the trusty Stalpert that the 
 officers had departed, and all was safe,) than
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 133 
 
 instantly they burst out into tumultuous excla- 
 mations of anger and resentment against Peter 
 du Bois. 
 
 " How is this," said the ruffian who occupied 
 the head of the table ; ^' is this your accursed 
 policy, to bring a woman amongst us, to carry 
 all our heads to the provost marshal by one 
 slip of her tongue ? You have betrayed us, Du 
 Bois !" 
 
 Peter advanced to speak^ when John Lyon, 
 in a manner peculiarly authoritative, stept for- 
 ward, and thus addressed the assembly : " No, 
 my friends, Du Bois has not betrayed you ; nor 
 are you in any danger from the presence of this 
 simple maiden. Du Bois, I conclude, has told 
 you all of my peril ; I was pursued. Had the 
 officers of justice found my daughter, the child 
 of your persecuted leader, in this house, be sure 
 of it, the discovery of you all would have fol- 
 lowed as the certain consequence; to satisfy 
 their own suspicion, that I lurked near her, 
 they would have left a strong guard in this 
 place. There was no way but to bring her to 
 this chamber. To save you, and not to betray 
 K 3
 
 ]34 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 you, she is here, and now the signal is given, 
 she shall retire, and intrude no longer." 
 
 " The fiends of hell shall hold her first," ex- 
 claimed the man who had before spoken, " ere 
 she goes from this place to tell what she has 
 seen in it. No, no, John Lyon, we will trust 
 you^ but no prating wench, though she be your 
 daughter." 
 
 " Friends," replied John Lyon, willing to 
 conciliate the murmuring assembly, " Friends, 
 1 will answer for my daughter's silence with my 
 own life. I solemnly pledge you my word, that 
 she knows nothing of your councils, nor of mine ; 
 take heed, then, that you do not betray them 
 yourselves — let the maiden pass." 
 
 " She shall not pass," said the ruffian ; " by 
 all the saints of heaven, or devils in hell, I 
 swear she shall not go hence to betray us. You 
 have brought her here, and here she shall re- 
 main, till we are in action and secure." 
 
 " No, no, she shall not pass," exclaimed a 
 young man of the council ; ^' we will have no 
 woman to spoil our work, with a curious eye 
 and a busy tongue ; you pass not out, young
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 135 
 
 mistress, excepting through my dagger's point.'* 
 And with these words he placed himself between 
 Anna and the door, and so violently seized her 
 by the arm, that her mantle fell back in the 
 struggle, and exhibited her pale^ affrighted, but 
 beautiful countenance^ to the assembly. " She 
 is a fair wench, this daughter of thine, John/' 
 continued the young man, who had placed 
 himself as guard over the door ; '^ and if she is 
 to be a prisoner in this chamber, I will even 
 take the ward of her myself." 
 
 " Wretch !" exclaimed John Lyon, as he 
 suddenly removed Anna from her detainer's 
 grasp, " unhand my child, — she is no mate for 
 thee; and either give her present liberty, or I 
 renounce you and your cause for ever : be the 
 peril on your own head." 
 
 The young man, to whom this speech was 
 addressed, answered it by a scornful laugh, 
 " Why, what canst thou do, John Lyon," he 
 said ; " desert us if thou wilt, aye, go raise the 
 town, and yell of treason and traitors in the 
 very ears of Lewis himself — he will but grant 
 thee a precedency in hanging, if we but thrust 
 k4
 
 136 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 thee out of these doors. I say it, and I swear 
 it^ thy girl is as pretty a wench as ever man 
 need have to console him in such a dungeon as 
 this cursed damp vault ; she shall abide in it, 
 and in my keeping." 
 
 At these words^ John Lyon lost his temper, 
 and endeavoured to assail with violence the in- 
 solent conspirator ; he was prevented by the 
 interference of Peter du Bois. The confvision now 
 became general ; Anna faintly implored for pity 
 and mercy, and promised silence ; Du Bois tried 
 to pacify his uncle ; all spoke, and no one listened, 
 till the aged wretch, who looked like the image 
 of death just started from the grave, arose from 
 his seat, stretched forth his bony hand, and ex- 
 claimed, in a voice whose shrill tones startled 
 the ear upon which they grated, " Hear me ! 
 hear me !" The assembly looked towards him. 
 " Hear me !" repeated the living spectre. " Let 
 John Lyon give in a thousand pieces of gold; 
 let him add to it that circle of pearls that binds 
 the maiden's locks, and what golden trinkets 
 may be about her ; make her swear upon the 
 cross, the most blessed cross, to be secret, and
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 137 
 
 let her go hence. Gold, pearls^ and oaths made 
 on sacred things, are of more secm*ity than her 
 father's promises, and we shall be rid of the 
 charge of keeping and maintaining a damsel, 
 who looks too frightened to tell tales." 
 
 " Oh, take all I have," said Anna: " take, 
 take the pearls, the gold^ anything, so you but 
 let me go." 
 
 " Open the door," exclaimed John Lyon; 
 " give us passage, or by the living God I 
 swear, that the first man who opposes, shall 
 taste the temper of this steel ;" he drew forth a 
 dagger as he spoke; " my daughter shall give 
 nothing ; my word is pledged for her silence ; 
 who dares doubt it; do you, Arnoul le Clerc, 
 or you. La Nuitee ?" 
 
 The conspirators looked for a moment at each 
 other, as if overawed by the authoritative tone 
 and manner of their leader. John Lyon now 
 stood near the door, supporting his almost 
 fainting child upon one arm, and holding in the 
 other his brandished dagger : no one had a mind 
 to be the first person to try its temper ; and John 
 was known to be of a determined purpose. There
 
 138 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 was a momentary silence. The monk now ad- 
 vanced— '* John Lyon," he said, " hear me; I 
 would speak with you and yonder maiden apart 
 from the rest ; my holy calling may command 
 some respect." 
 
 " Thy holy calling !" said the young man, 
 Arnoul le Clerc^ " aye, who would doubt it? 
 thou art to lead stray souls to thy master's house, 
 and most of them will find their way through a road 
 fiery enough, if they follow thee. But no women 
 and priests caballing together; so, master secre- 
 tary of the cowl and petticoat, stand back, and 
 let all the assembly hear what you have to say." 
 
 The monk darted an angry glance upon Ar- 
 noul le Clerc, but did not reply to him. '' I 
 know something of this maiden," he said; " I 
 have often seen her at the mass ; she is devout 
 and fervent in her prayers ; I know how to 
 secure her silence; there shall be no need of 
 threats. Here, damsel," he continued, turning 
 to Anna, " swear upon this cross, (and your 
 own father's life be the bond of your fidelity,) 
 swear, that what you have this night seen or 
 heard within this chamber, shall never pass
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 139 
 
 your lips to mortal creature ; swear by the Bles- 
 sed Virgin ; kiss the cross." 
 
 " Swear, swear," repeated Du Bois eagerly 
 to Anna, in a low voice ; " swear a dozen oaths 
 if necessary, and we are safe, at the price of a 
 litde breath." 
 
 Anna involuntarily shuddered at the idea, that 
 she was thus to become sworn to keep secret the 
 meetings of such a band of lawless ruffians ; but 
 overcome with fear, and scarcely capable of 
 utterance, she cast a timid look upon her father 
 — that look sufficed, " Yes," she thought, '' if 
 I am free, I may yet save him;" and eagerly 
 kissing the cross that was extended to her, she 
 repeated almost unconsciously the oath enjoined 
 her by the monk, word for word, as he dictated. 
 
 John Lyon and his daughter were then allowed 
 to withdraw. Peter du Bois conducted them 
 back to the chamber, bade Stalpert make such 
 preparations as he could to accommodate them 
 for the night, and hastened back to the council, 
 which, he said, he must again attend ere they 
 broke up, and that he would make John Lyon's 
 final peace with the assembly.
 
 140 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 No sooner was he gone than Anna threw her- 
 self before her father's feet, clasped his knees 
 and sobbed aloud, and then raising her eyes 
 towards him, with outstretched hands^ she con- 
 jured him, in the tenderest and most emphatic 
 manner, to quit the dangerous, the dreadful 
 society of those profligate and wretched men. 
 
 ^' Anna," said her father, '« I cannot speak of 
 them to you : remember your oath. They are 
 not what you think them. Although not fitting 
 for the company of women, they are noble 
 spirits, who would wager life for liberty and 
 honour." 
 
 " Rather say for rapine and plunder," replied 
 Anna. '' Oh, my father, can honour dwell with 
 men who would, even but now, turn upon 
 (what I shudder to think you called yourself) 
 their leader. Of what worth can liberty be to 
 those, who would use it but to curse and brawl 
 amongst themselves ? Oh, my father, I would 
 peril my life if it could aid you. Let us leave 
 all we have — let us fly together from this miser- 
 able city. I can work for you ; nay, I am not 
 too proud, I could beg for you, so we were
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 141 
 
 innocent. These hands shall labour for your 
 daily bread, so you were safe in soul and body. 
 Leave, then, this fatal place; we will fly this 
 instant ; let me, let me save you." 
 
 '' You can, you shall save me," said John 
 Lyon, who appeared greatly moved by his 
 daughter's affectionate and impassioned address. 
 " But flight would be madness ; the vengeance 
 of Gilbert Matthew will leave no place of safety 
 for me ; I should be discovered, imprisoned, and 
 led to death. For this night, perhaps, I am 
 secure, by the officers having already searched 
 the house ; but beyond this night, so help me 
 Heaven, I have no hope for one hour's safety, 
 unless " 
 
 " What ! my father," exclaimed Anna; 
 " speak, oh speak ; do not torture me with this 
 suspense." 
 
 John advanced towards his daughter, took 
 her hand, and essayed to speak, but suddenly 
 casting it from him, he paced the room in con- 
 siderable agitation, whilst his downcast looks had 
 in them an expression of shame ; he felt abashed, 
 even before his own child, at the thoughts of
 
 142 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 what he was about to propose to her. At length 
 he made an effort to overcome these last struggles 
 of better feeling, and with a look of despair 
 strongly imprinted upon every feature, he asked 
 Anna " if she would do one act to save him 
 from death." 
 
 " One act !" said Anna, " oh, a thousand ; 
 name it, but name it^ and if it be only at the 
 peril of my life — you gave me life, and it shall 
 be spent to save you. I fear nothing. From 
 God I received my spirit, and to him I will 
 commit it." 
 
 " My child," replied John Lyon, " there is 
 but one way, and that I cannot name to you ; 
 you will think it dishonour, yet it will not be 
 
 such — not actual dishonour — only . In 
 
 fine, the Earl of Flanders might by your means 
 consent — that is, at your solicitation, he might 
 be induced to grant me a free pardon, if " 
 
 " If I would yield to his lawless pursuit," 
 added Anna. " No, my father ; I can die with 
 you, but never, never will I do an act that may 
 save your body from peril to lose your immortal 
 soul. You shall not give your child to guilt."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 143 
 
 " I will not — I mean it not," eagerly 
 answered John Lyon ; " it is only this, Anna, I 
 would ask of you, that you would solicit the 
 Earl for me — that you would not vehemently 
 reject his professions of affection — in short, that 
 you would patiently hsten to what Lewis may 
 urge in behalf of his suit; for, I fear, on no 
 other terms would he grant the pardon." 
 
 " What !" said Anna, " you would have me 
 temporise ! appear to encourage a disgraceful 
 passion, which my very soul abhors. Oh, my 
 father, is it not written in the book of life, that 
 man shall do no ill that good may come of it ? 
 How then can I practise such deceit ? How can 
 I hold out hopes that I may become infamous, 
 without the danger of falling into the very snare 
 my own guile would spread for another. No — 
 this I cannot do. But I will seek the Earl — I 
 will boldly throw myself at his feet. For your 
 sake, I would humble myself to the dust before 
 him. I will beg his mercy for my father, and 
 promise him the prayers, the blessing of a poor 
 girl, as the only honest guerdon she can give in 
 return for a father's life."
 
 144 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " That would be useless," said John Lyon. 
 " I know the Earl ; you shall not solicit him 
 only to meet a denial. Farewell, Anna — all is 
 over — it is needless to seek farther concealment. 
 Farewell for ever. When you shall hear the 
 castle bell toll the death note for your father's 
 execution, you may be sorry — you may lament, 
 perhaps^ that you had wanted but a little patience 
 to hear a tale every court gallant repeats to a 
 fair maid, and no harm done. It is but so. 
 Farewell." 
 
 " Stay, stay. Oh, whither do you go, my 
 father ?" cried Anna, distractedly. 
 
 " To yield myself to justice," replied John. 
 '^ This, perhaps, may save me from the wheel ; 
 an axe is a sharp, but a less painful death." 
 
 " Stay — do not go/' exclaimed Anna; " the 
 wheel ! the axe ! Oh, go not — go not ;" and 
 her voice sounded loud and shrill from the agony 
 she felt, as she rushed forward and hung upon 
 her father's mantle. " No," she continued^ " I 
 will not spill your bloody I will not be the mur- 
 derer of my father. I will do all you wish — yes, 
 I will kneel to the Earl, and bid him kill me —
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 145 
 
 in pity kill me. I will hear all his love, and save 
 yon, save you." 
 
 John Lyon folded his daughter in his arms, 
 whilst a tear of parental affection bedewed his 
 cheeky and so contradictory are the feelings and 
 the wishes of the human mind^ that at this 
 moment he almost repented the arts, and the 
 terrific arguments, he had used to wring from 
 her a compliance to adopt measures for his 
 safety, which her own ingenuous character 
 abhorred. 
 
 The voice of nature spoke loudly within his 
 bosom, but that bosom was too cold, too selfish, 
 to yield implicitly to its dictates. John had suc- 
 ceeded in his efforts to work on the mind of 
 Anna, and he now endeavoured to console him- 
 self, and to quiet his own conscience with the 
 hope that no ultimate ruin would fall upon his 
 daughter. " For, after all," thought he, ^' it is 
 but to amuse the Earl with a few hopes for the 
 present — my life will be preserved till we are 
 ripe for action, and then will I take such a 
 revenge on Lewis de Male, that he shall no 
 longer rule in Ghent or Flanders, but his life — 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 146 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 I will endeavour to spare his life when that hour 
 comes, if he now grants mine." 
 
 Such were the reflections of John Lyon, as he 
 slowly paced the room, for Anna, exhausted by 
 the late scenes she had witnessed, and distracted 
 with the contest of violent and conflicting feel- 
 ings, had sunk into a chair, where she sat like a 
 statue of monumental sorrow, so still, so mute, so 
 motionless was her whole aspect and demeanor. 
 The contest was past — she had resolved to com- 
 ply, and a deep feeling of melancholy, which 
 accompanied the settled purpose of her mind, 
 had now succeeded to the violence of her former 
 emotions. 
 
 Peter du Bois at length returned, and Anna, 
 who could not bear to converse upoji the purpose 
 she was the next day to put in practice, was glad 
 to retire to a chamber in the hope to obtain some 
 rest. She took leave of her father and of her 
 cousin for the night, received the blessing of the 
 former, and, retiring, left them to their secret 
 councils.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 147 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 When Anna retired to the chamber that had 
 been allotted to her in the house of Peter du 
 Bois, she threw herself upon her knees, and 
 fervently prayed to Heaven to grant her that 
 support and protection so necessary for her in 
 this most painful time of trouble and distress. 
 The fervour of devotion, whilst it animated her 
 trust in Providence, and elevated her feelings be- 
 yond the anxieties of this terrestrial world, gave 
 her courage to undertake, and patience to endure, 
 the difficulties with which her situation was sur- 
 rounded. She arose from her devotions in a 
 calmer and a firmer frame of mind than she had 
 yet experienced since the events of the day ; and 
 before she retired to her bed, she determined to 
 consider in what manner it would be most ad- 
 visable to execute her plan of soliciting from the 
 Earl of Flanders a pardon for her father. 
 She knew well how vehemently Lewis de Male 
 l2
 
 148 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 had expressed his affection for her, that but for 
 state reasons, he would have married her ; and 
 when this became incompatible with the prince, 
 he had still pressed his suit as the lover. She also 
 knew that her father's having discountenanced 
 these lawless addresses was the primary cause 
 of the ruin that had fallen upon him, and that 
 Gilbert Matthew had only seized upon a favour- 
 able opportunity to complete the work. Gilbert 
 was the determined enemy both of her father 
 and of herself, siqce he, too, was a rejected 
 suitor, and she had cause to .believe that he had 
 so far poisoned the mind of the haughty Countess 
 of Artois, as to make her think that Anna fos- 
 tered the passion of the Countess's son Lewis, 
 in the hope to use the influence love might give 
 her over his feelings, and induce him to marry 
 her. This was a suspicion false as it was pain- 
 ful. Anna, therefore, was aware that however 
 innocently she might now renew a connection 
 with the Earl_, merely to solicit her father's par- 
 don, that such an act on her part would be 
 liable to the most cruel misconstruction, should 
 it become known to the Countess of Artois, and
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 149 
 
 that Gilbert would rejoice in such an oppor- 
 tunity to blacken her fame, and to work her 
 ruin. 
 
 The Earl of Flanders, she endeavoured to 
 persuade herself, was the person she had the 
 least to fear in the court, for although a prince, 
 who^ like most princes of his time^ indulged in 
 the profligacy of unlawful pleasures, yet she 
 knew there was in his character a considerable 
 share of chivalrous feeling. So that, notwith- 
 standing he had attempted every means to seduce 
 her, he had always expressed an ardent desire 
 to achieve his purpose by gaining an interest in 
 her affections, rather than by any exertion of his 
 power ; for scarcely would Lewis have valued 
 Anna as his mistress, unless he felt convinced 
 love had induced her to submit to the degrada- 
 tion of being such. Still she was certain the 
 Earl deeply resented her father's interference in 
 this unhappy business, and she could neither 
 flatter nor deceive her own mind with the expec- 
 tation that Lewis would grant a pardon on any 
 consideration, unless he was allowed to hope 
 for some ultimate success in her afl^ections. 
 L 3
 
 150 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 These were melancholy and terrible reflec- 
 tions^ for she now remembered that she had 
 heard that the Earl was become more profligate 
 in his manners, and it was evident, by all that 
 had happened, that no lingering feeling of pity 
 for herself had checked Lewis's desire to injure 
 her father. What, then, could she expect ? — 
 And to hold out hopes that the time might come, 
 however distant, when she would be induced to 
 sanction the Prince's dishonourable passion, was 
 an act of deception against which her whole soul 
 revolted. 
 
 Yet her father's life, his very life, was at stake ; 
 and Anna, too, hoped that should she succeed 
 in obtaining this pardon, she might be able to 
 withdraw him from an intercourse with those 
 wretches, in whose association she was convinced 
 there must be danger, guilt, and ruin. This 
 last thought operated strongly upon her mind, 
 and she resolved, cost what it would to her own 
 feelings, that she would attempt all to save him 
 from such a vortex of wickedness ; for, however 
 ignorant Anna might be of the world, she had 
 both seen and heard enough this night to be
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 151 
 
 convinced the desperate men thus assembled 
 could be only concerned in some evil plans 
 against their country, and its existing govern- 
 ment. 
 
 Her mind, distracted by these reflections, pre- 
 vented her desire to seek immediate repose, and 
 walking towards the window of her apartment, 
 she threw open the casement^ in the hope to 
 revive her sinking spirits. It was now past mid- 
 night. The moon rode high in the heavens, 
 keeping on her tranquil course amidst thousands 
 of glittering fires ; and the milky way shone like 
 a veil of brightest silver upon the deep blue ether. 
 All was hushed and still, and the lofty spires of 
 the churches and convents in Ghent looked, as 
 they were illumined by the radiant light that 
 streamed upon them, like marble of the whitest 
 hue. 
 
 Anna (whose mind was finely sensible to the 
 poetic and religious feelings which a view of 
 nature is so capable of inspiring,) felt at this 
 moment all their effects ; her heart responded to 
 the harmony without, for it was innocent ; no 
 guilty act, no base passions, had in her breast 
 l4
 
 152 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 blunted that lively sensibility towards God and 
 his created works, which is too often destroyed 
 in the bosom where worldly and degenerate 
 feelings rule. 
 
 Anna cast her eyes towards the Heavens, and 
 thought upon Him whose word had formed them 
 out of nothing : " let there be light, and it was 
 so," said Anna. " Oh, merciful, great, and 
 benign Creator of Good^ how wonderful are thy 
 works ! how inscrutable thy ways ! It is thou, 
 and thou only, who canst guide man in safety ; 
 and when he turns to his own paths, and for- 
 sakes thine, his road is as doubtful and dangerous 
 as the path of the wanderer whilst he strays in 
 the desert, when those fires, which thy word has 
 created and sustained, are shrouded in clouds 
 and in total darkness. To thy guidance, then, 
 will I submit myself in all things. I will mean 
 no ill, act no ill ; I will trust in thee, and thy 
 light shall be to me the way and the life ; thy 
 rod and thy staff shall sustain me. To adore 
 thee do I now contemplate thy works, and not 
 as too many erring mortals do, who only look 
 upon those bright stars to read with presump-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 153 
 
 tion their own future course, as if thou wouldst 
 permit the creatures of thy will to reveal to man 
 the destiny which thou hast said he shall never 
 find by searching out ; and thou wilt render to 
 him the future for good or evil, as his own acts 
 deserve." 
 
 Anna retired from the window, closed the 
 casement, and prepared to take some rest ; yet 
 as she slowly took off her apparel, and unbraided 
 her tresses, her mind continued to dwell upon 
 the subject nearest to her heart, and more than 
 once did she think upon Henry de Cassel. What 
 would be his opinion of her ? his suspicions, 
 perhaps, of her conduct, should he find that she 
 had sought the Earl ? These thoughts she 
 endeavoured to dismiss as busy intruders, that 
 were likely to interfere with what she deemed to 
 be her duty. 
 
 Still anxious to serve her father, and yet to 
 preserve as much as possible the native sincerity 
 of her character^ an idea struck her that she 
 hoped would prove favourable to the virtuous 
 feelings with which she should solicit her father's 
 pardon. " Yes," said Anna, " I will solicit the
 
 154 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Earl as he passes into the cathedral to attend 
 the mass ; that will be a proper time to beg a 
 father's life ; for however profligate Lewis may 
 be^ the sanctity of the place, the office in which 
 he is about to engage, they may, they must 
 inspire him with some pure, some holy feelings. 
 He cannot, he would not dare think impro- 
 perly of me at such a moment, nor can his own 
 guilty passion obtrude itself in such a place. It 
 is at the cathedral, then, I will meet him. Yet 
 I must be cautious ; the Countess of Artois often 
 accompanies her son to mass, and should she or 
 Gilbert Matthew recognise me, it may ruin all. 
 What must I do then ?" 
 
 Anna mused for a moment, and stood motion- 
 less, holding a long braid of her fair hair in her 
 hand, whilst the total abstraction of her mind 
 had interrupted the occupation of the toilette. 
 At length she continued — " Yes, there is one 
 way : I will muffle myself in my mantle^ and 
 cast a veil about my head ; I will mingle with 
 the crowd of mendicants who surround the 
 church door to receive an alms of the Earl as he 
 enters ; and when he stretches out his hand to
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 155 
 
 give me an alms, I will then put into it a paper 
 that shall move him to grant my father's life. 
 Hence, then, every feeling of pride ! let me pass 
 for a beggar ! If that lowly guise can secure 
 my honour, I would rather be an actual beggar 
 all my life, than Hve without virtue, could I be 
 seated on a throne. And to preserve a father's 
 life, and Henry's good opinion," she added, 
 almost unconsciously, " no appearance can be 
 too humble or too mean. It shall be so ; I will 
 write the paper before I rest. There are always 
 materials in this chamber, for Du Bois occupies 
 it when I am not here ; and then I will endeavour 
 to sleep." 
 
 Anna again threw on a part of the apparel 
 which she had taken off, sat down, and prepared 
 for her task. She wrote slowly, for, though 
 well educated for her time, she was little accus- 
 tomed to the art of composition, so that at the 
 best she was but an indifferent writer. She now 
 indited two or three papers, which she succes- 
 sively tore up, and at length she resolved to 
 write as she felt. " For nature," thought Anna^ 
 " after all, is the best advocate, and one needs not
 
 156 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 to be a great clerk to know what one feels- or to 
 express it." Having come to this determination, 
 she wrote a short petition to the Earl, in which 
 she asserted, with truth, that her father had not 
 intentionally occasioned the death of Gilbert 
 Matthew's kinsman. She begged the Earl, 
 therefore, to grant him a free pardon, with all 
 the energy filial piety could dictate, and with all 
 the eloquence of Christian feeling. 
 
 Satisfied in some degree with her own plans 
 and intentions, Anna retired to her bed^ and, 
 notwithstanding the anxious state of her mind, 
 exhausted by the hurry and troubles of the day, 
 soon found those tranquil slumbers which are 
 the peculiar blessing of health and innocence — 
 that peace which passeth all understanding, and 
 which the world can neither give nor take away.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 157 
 
 CHAP. VTII. 
 
 When Anna arose the next morning, she pre- 
 pared with an anxious heart to put her plan in 
 execution ; and having only communicated it in 
 part to her father, lest he should oppose a 
 project, of whose success she entertained the 
 most flattering hope, she bid him farewell, con- 
 cealed her person as well as she w^as able, by 
 drawing her mantle of black silk close about 
 her, threw a white veil over her head, and set 
 out on her way to St. Bavon, in order that she 
 might place herself at the door of the cathedral, 
 to be near the Earl as he passed in to the mass. 
 It would be needless to say with how much 
 anxiety on the part of Anna, with how many 
 hopes and fears, the interval (between her taking 
 her station at the door and the arrival of the 
 Earl) was filled up. 
 
 At length she heard the sounds of minstrelsy, 
 and the movement of the crowd, which the
 
 158 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 public attendance of Lewis at the mass never 
 failed to collect, assured her that he was actually 
 coming towards the church. Anna now drew 
 as near as possible to the space which was kept 
 free by his attendants for his entrance, and 
 exerted all her efforts to avoid being forced 
 back by several of the mendicants, who were 
 eager to catch the eye of the Earl, in order to 
 solicit an alms. Some of these people were real 
 objects of charity, and others only used poverty 
 as an excuse for idleness and vice. The most 
 bold and importunate held in their hands a 
 small brass box^ with a slit in the lid, in order 
 to drop into it whatever eleemosynary donations 
 they might receive. And their usual method, 
 of calling upon the charity of a passenger, was 
 by shaking and rattling their boxes as he passed 
 along, sometimes accompanying the action with 
 a blessing, or a demand on his purse ; or at 
 others without a hint being given, save by the 
 action itself, a practice still in use amongst 
 several of the Flemish mendicants even at the 
 present time. 
 
 The music drew nearer and nearer ; and the 
 6
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 159 
 
 minstrels that preceded the Earl, with man}/ of 
 his household^ passed directly into the cathe- 
 dral, where the former continued playing their 
 sprightly airs, although within the walls of the 
 sacred edifice itself. 
 
 The Earl approached ; and Anna was grieved 
 to observe that his mother, Margaret, Countess 
 of Artois, was leaning upon his arm, and on 
 the same side of the pathway where she had 
 taken her station. Gilbert Matthew too, she 
 remarked, followed in the rear ; and near him 
 walked a person who wore a hood, and not the 
 chaperon, so put on as to shade the face from 
 observation. Who this man was, she could not 
 see ; but the proximity of his station to Gilbert 
 in the procession, induced her to believe he 
 must be one of his seven brothers; for the 
 family of the Matthews kept much together^ 
 when in pubUc or in private. Sir Roger d'Au- 
 terme, the high bailiff of Ghent, was also in the 
 retinue with his nephew, Oliver, and John de 
 Faucille. 
 
 Whilst Anna cast her eyes upon the Earl, as 
 he slowly advanced, a flattering hope stole into
 
 160 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 her bosom that she should succeed in the object 
 of her petition, for the countenance of the Lord 
 Lewis of Flanders might be said always to 
 possess an expression calculated to inspire hope 
 in a suppliant_, since the dignity of the prince 
 was blended with an air of kindness and affa- 
 bility. Perhaps too, Anna's anxious hopes to 
 find him all she wished, assisted the favourable 
 view in which he now appeared to her. 
 
 His step was unaffected, though slow and 
 majestic, and he returned the greetings of the 
 crowd with manly courtesy. Whilst his tall 
 and noble figure (attired in a suit of blue velvet, 
 embroidered with gold, decorated with jewels, 
 and surmounted by a rich mantle, lined with 
 ermine) attracted the admiration of all be- 
 holders. 
 
 The Countess leaned upon the arm of her 
 son ; her features were of the same handsome 
 contour, and, from their regularity, retained 
 some claims to beauty ; yet there was a repelling, 
 a haughty character, in her aspect, that de- 
 stroyed the favourable effect the courtesy of 
 her manners would otherwise have produced.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 161 
 
 She condescended to return the respectful greet- 
 ings of the people, but in doing so the ex- 
 pression of her countenance shewed she felt it 
 to be a condescension, and neither the sight of 
 age, poverty, sickness, nor innocence, could 
 unbend her brow, or create one kindly look of 
 sympathy or feeling. Her alms she bestowed as 
 a thing she did not value herself, nor heeded the 
 benefit they might afford to others. She coldly 
 scattered them around her, indiscriminately, 
 from the almonier that hung suspended from her 
 girdle, as children would throw away a handful 
 of stones, about which they cared nothing. Her 
 full and intelligent eyes glanced every where 
 around, but fixed no where with any expression 
 of interest. Her attire was magnificent; it 
 shone with jewels and embroidery ; her hanging 
 sleeves fell almost to the ground, whilst the 
 train of the crimson velvet mantle was sup- 
 ported by a young page. Her forehead, smooth 
 and white, was bound by a circle or coronet of 
 jewels, placed above a coverchief of the finest 
 silver tissue. 
 
 As the Earl advanced along the space that 
 
 VOL. I. M V
 
 162 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 was cleared for him by the chamberlains and 
 marshals, he every now and then stopt, as it 
 were, a moment, whilst, with more grace and 
 good-nature than was exhibited by his mother, 
 he dispensed an alms to some aged or suffering 
 mendicant, a custom usual with princes when 
 they passed on to attend the public mass. 
 
 ^' He is drawing near," thought Anna ; " oh 
 if I could but catch his eye ! I will cry largesse — 
 and then I will slip the paper into his hand as 
 he gives me an alms. But he sees me not ; oh 
 that I could but catch his eye. I will venture to 
 step beyond the line ; if it is but a little, he must 
 see me.'' 
 
 She did so ; and the quick glance of the Earl 
 was instantly arrested, and turned upon her 
 alone. Her dress, although plain, and even 
 homely, was not that of a mendicant ; and not- 
 withstanding her mantle wrapped close about 
 her, and the veil that covered her face, there 
 was a grace in the figure of Anna, which, like 
 that found in those models of beauty, the statues 
 of antiquity, shewed itself, however covered it 
 might be with drapei'y. The arm too, which 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 163 
 
 she extended (as she held the paper, ready to 
 be presented, in her hand), was finely turned, 
 and delicately white. These observations in a 
 moment attracted an eye like that of Lewis de 
 Male, critically nice in beauty. His curiosity 
 was excited ; there was something altogether 
 extraordinary in the circumstance. 
 
 " This," said the Earl, as he turned and 
 addressed Gilbert Matthew, who was now near 
 him, " this is the strangest, and I will warrant 
 the fairest beggar that ever yet asked an alms. 
 She may, too, be the most unfortunate of all 
 mendicants, perhaps a distressed gentlewoman ; 
 I will give her gold." 
 
 " Or, perhaps," replied Gilbert, " she may 
 be some artful wanton, who displays her white 
 hand, and a decent mantle, to excite curiosity, 
 and a new kind of sympathy, since rags, the 
 proper habiliments of alms-takers, are now too 
 common to raise much pity." 
 
 " Be she what she may," said the Earl, " she 
 shall not extend that pretty arm to me in vain; 
 nay, I will speak to her." 
 
 As Lewis advanced a few paces to do so, the 
 M 2
 
 164 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 gold piece of coin, designed for Anna, glittered 
 in his hand, and at the very moment he was 
 about to speak to her^ an aged woman, of a 
 wretched and haggard countenance, (in which 
 an expression of frenzy seemed to contend with 
 that of malice for pre-eminence^) who was habited 
 with nothing remarkable, save a white hood about 
 her head, rushed before Anna, and rudely thrust 
 her back, as she exclaimed aloud to Lewis de 
 Male, '^ To me, to me — the gold to me, not to 
 yon muffled trickster." 
 
 Anna alarmed, shrunk back in the crowd, and 
 the Earl, incensed and disappointed at the pro- 
 bability of losing sight of her in the press, push- 
 ed back the hag with some violence, as he ex- 
 claimed " Hence, thou cursed white hood, how 
 darest thou to interfere." 
 
 " Curse not the white hood, curse it not, proud 
 Earl," replied the aged woman, with the utmost 
 audacity; " take heed, Lewis, take heed — no man, 
 be he prince or beggar, shall ban me unre- 
 quited : hark thee, thy curse shall fall upon 
 thyself; and mark my words," she continued, as 
 she stretched forth her dry and shrivelled arm,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 165 
 
 bent it, and pointed with her finger to her own 
 head ; " the white hood thou hast this day cursed 
 shall cover thine own with confusion. Remember 
 it is I who say it — farewell." 
 ^ " My son," said the Countess of Artois to the 
 Earl, in a low and agitated voice, " my son, give 
 her the gold. It is Ursula ; give her gold." 
 
 " Give her gold !" replied the Earl ; " the 
 wretched old crone — I will give her nothing but 
 the cucking-stool or the stocks ; her tricks pre- 
 vail not with me." 
 
 " Stop her then," cried a young man of 
 Lewis's train; " stop her; she has publicly 
 insulted our prince." 
 
 " She is some madwoman," observed Gilbert 
 Matthew. " Better let her pass; she is not 
 worth notice." 
 
 ^« It is Ursula," again repeated the Countess 
 of Artois. '^ I would, my son, that you had 
 given her the gold ; her curses never fall in vain 
 — she is most powerful — she is a sorceress." 
 
 ^' Say rather a cheat, mother," replied the 
 Earl. " She seems one of those bold beggars, 
 who would make the donor of an alms loosen his 
 M 3
 
 166 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 purse strings by exciting terror. Notwithstand- 
 ing the edict, Ghent still harbours many such 
 hags and witches. A curse upon her tongue, 
 she has affrighted away that poor girl. I would 
 have relieved her but for the old white hood's 
 brawling, and now I do not see her in the 
 crowd. Did you mark which way she went, 
 Gilbert ?" 
 
 '^ No, my lord," answered the new deacon of 
 the pilots ; " I only saw her shrink back when 
 the old woman thrust herself before you : the 
 girl seemed frighted, and perhaps is gone.'' 
 
 " It is most likely," answered the Earl. " Let 
 us forward to the mass." 
 
 Whilst this brief conversation passed, the 
 woman with the white hood had retired sulkily 
 from the press. As she went on, no one dared 
 to stop her. Indeed, all made way for her, as 
 they would for a being whose will no one cared 
 to cross, since, in fact, she was looked upon by 
 the multitude as a creature possessed of powers 
 and knowledge more than human. Anna also 
 had retired ; for when she heard the hag de- 
 nounce her as a *' muffled trickster,'^ she felt so
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 167 
 
 alarmed lest a discovery should be the conse- 
 quence, that abandoning her purpose of pre- 
 senting the letter to the Earl at the church door, 
 she immediately shrunk back, and endeavoured 
 to make her way through the crowd ; but her 
 escape could not be so eagily accomplished as 
 that of Ursula, since no one feared Anna, 
 therefore no one made way for her ; and in 
 struggling to free herself from the press, her veil 
 caught, and was pulled off her head. She re- 
 gained it as speedily as possible, and replaced it, 
 but not till many eyes had thus obtained an 
 opportunity of gazing on her, and of calling up 
 a crimson flood into her cheeks. 
 
 After this accident, Anna felt still more eager 
 to escape ; she again struggled to pass the crowd, 
 and just as she was on the point of succeeding, 
 some one came softly behind her, laid a hand 
 gently upon her shoulder, and whispered in her 
 ear, " Take no notice of me — do not look 
 round for the world, but go into the cathedral 
 — pass to the Lady Chapel — stay there till I 
 come. I will help you." The astonishment of 
 Anna was only equalled by her agitation, for she 
 M 4
 
 168 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 knew too well the slightest accents of the voice 
 of Henry de Cassel, to be deceived in thinking 
 these words had been uttered by himself. 
 
 Anna's spirits were now so much weakened by 
 a succession of alarms, that the least thing filled 
 her with nervous apprehension, even Henry's 
 sudden presence made her tremble, yet she 
 obeyed him, and forbore to look back ; but she 
 could not help fancying, by the movement of the 
 crowd about her, that they made way for him 
 readily enough, although they had not stirred an 
 inch to accommodate herself. She now waited 
 a short time, almost without moving from the 
 spot where Henry had thus mysteriously ad- 
 dressed her. At length, perceiving the mob dis- 
 persing in all directions, she ventured to steal 
 into the cathedral^ by a side door of one of the 
 aisles, and made her way into the Lady Chapel. 
 
 The Lady Chapel was a small lateral building 
 dedicated to the Virgin Mary, and decorated 
 with a profusion of the finest Gothic carvings, 
 paintings, and devices ; the altar being literally 
 covered with the rich offerings of devotees to her 
 shrine. Anna devoutly kneeled before the ihiage
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 169 
 
 of the Holy Virgin, that stood, in sculptured 
 pomp and jewelled splendour, within a niche 
 above the altar, and, after repeating an Ave 
 Maria, she sunk upon a cushion, anxiously to 
 await the arrival of Henry ; but how he could 
 possibly assist her, or how he should even guess 
 his assistance could be wanting, seemed to her 
 inexplicable mysteries. 
 
 She was not, however, long kept in suspense, 
 for Henry soon appeared, and closing the door 
 of the little chapel with some caution as he 
 entered, he ran towards Anna and greeted her 
 with the warmest burst of impassioned feeling — 
 indeed^ he seemed not to think for what purpose 
 he came thither^ and to forget all in the remem- 
 brance that he was near her. 
 
 Anna, at length fixed her eyes imploringly 
 upon him, and conjured him. to lose no time in 
 affording her the promised assistance ; " for, I 
 suppose," added she, " you must know some- 
 thing of what now presses so much on my mind, 
 else how could you have offered to aid me." 
 
 " I have heard much, indeed, Anna," replied
 
 170 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Henry, " since I saw you last night ; for on my 
 return to the hotel of the Moon, I there learnt 
 the fatal effects of the fray with the Matthews, 
 and that your father's life was in the utmost 
 peril. I knew you to-day, in spite of your 
 mantle and veil ; for, remember Anna, how often 
 you have worn that simple dress in the woods of 
 St. Omer. I observed, too, a paper in your 
 hand : no eye was so fixed upon you as mine, 
 since no heart was so much interested for you. 
 To me it appeared evident you wished to pre- 
 sent that paper to the Earl of Flanders. I could 
 easily then guess upon what anxious subject you 
 would solicit him^ when I knew that justice was 
 in arms against your father's life." 
 
 " And where, then, were you?" enquired 
 Anna. " I saw you not. But, Holy Virgin ! 
 how changed, Henry, is your attire ! Are you^ 
 too^ of the court ?" 
 
 " I have been there to-day," replied Henry, 
 " and followed in my lord's train to the cathe- 
 dral. But - come, let us speak of your business, 
 that is more important — and I dare not stay.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 171 
 
 Tell me, would you wish to solicit the Earl for 
 your father's pardon — to free him from the 
 consequences of this charge of murder." 
 
 '' It is the first wish of my soul to obtain his 
 pardon/' said Anna; " but I was disappointed 
 in my plan ; and should the Countess of Artois 
 or Gilbert Matthew discover me within the 
 palace, before I could see the Earl, they would 
 ruin my chance of success, and drive me thence 
 with scorn." 
 
 " They shall do neither," answered Henry. 
 " I can and will serve you. You shall see the 
 Earl in safety to yourself. But," he added, 
 with considerable emotion, " but I know too 
 well the Earl's former disgraceful passion for 
 you, not to fear this interview. Oh, Anna, your 
 virtue I can trust, but not your experience. 
 You know nothing of the arts of men when 
 they abandon principle for profligacy. You — 
 young, innocent, and beautiful, trusting others, 
 as you are yourself worthy to be trusted — I 
 tremble when I think into what dangers, what 
 deceptions^ nay, what temptations, you may fall. 
 Lewis de Male is vehement in all his feelings :
 
 172 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 I fear the sight of you will awake his slumbering 
 passion ; but I conjure you, let not even your 
 father's safety induce you to listen to his vows of 
 love." 
 
 " I will not/' said Anna, '' I will not encou- 
 rage them." 
 
 " You must not hear them," replied Henry ; 
 " for should you but listen to his protestations, 
 he may hope hereafter to win you on his own 
 terms, and should he do so, be sure of it, ruin 
 and misery must overwhelm both you and me. 
 The vengeance of Lewis would be fearful, as 
 his power absolute. Take no token from him, 
 promise him nothing, or at least nothing but 
 gratitude, in requital for your father's life. Re- 
 member my words. May God prosper you !" 
 
 Anna was so overcome by the subject of this 
 address, which kept pace with her own fears, 
 that she could only faintly answer, " she would 
 be prudent ;" for the scene of the previous 
 night (that had so acted upon her feelings as to 
 determine her at all events to obtain her father's 
 pardon, in the hope to win him from his asso- 
 ciates,) she was sworn to keep secret.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 173 
 
 Henry then drew a ring from his finger, and 
 placed it upon one of her's, and directed her to 
 proceed to the EarPs palace of Andrighien as soon 
 as the mass should be over. " Go," said he, '^ to 
 the garden entrance towards the south; the 
 warder of that entrance is well known to me, 
 indeed he is in some measure indebted to me. 
 Shew him that ring, he will know it for mine, 
 and bid him conduct you where you may obtain 
 a private audience of the Earl. Go thither one 
 hour after the mass ; do simply what I tell you, 
 but hold no discourse with the warder. Shew 
 him but the ring ; and in the mean time I will 
 endeavour to apprize him of your coming, and 
 instruct him what to do. Farewell, my beloved 
 Anna ! I must leave you. Remember my 
 counsel — one hour after mass. Adieu ! I shall 
 see you again when you least expect me." 
 
 Anna promised to observe all his directions, 
 bade him farewell, and resumed her station in 
 the Lady Chapel, thinking it better to continue 
 there till the mass was over, as she should be less 
 observed in her way to Andrighien, when the 
 crowd had entirely dispersed.
 
 174 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 CHAR IX. 
 
 When the great bell of St. Bavon struck the 
 hour that was to be the signal of Anna's depar- 
 ture for the palace of Andrighien, she started 
 from her seat, and once more addressing a 
 prayer to the Virgin to prosper her enterprise, 
 she quitted the Lady Chapel, and set out upon 
 her way, avoiding as much as possible the most 
 public streets in her passage through Ghent, and 
 at length passed the city gates without meeting 
 any interruption. 
 
 The new and beautiful palace of Andrighien, 
 which Lewis de Male had erected at an immense 
 cost, stood about one mile distant from the walls 
 of Ghent, in the midst of a fertile, though flat 
 country, and surrounded by delightful pleasure 
 grounds and gardens. It was here the Earl 
 had chiefly resided since the death of his wife, 
 and it was here that he was frequently visited by 
 his mother the Countess of Artois, whose supe-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 175 
 
 rior abilities for state matters and state intrigues, 
 induced her to keep a wary eye upon her less 
 politic son, over whom she still retained a power 
 and an authority Lewis had vainly endeavoured 
 to shake off; for the wisdom of her counsels, and 
 the decision of her conduct, had really been of 
 the utmost service to him in moments of emer- 
 gency. His mother was also Countess of Artois 
 in her own right, with the privilege to bestow 
 that county upon whomsoever she pleased at her 
 death. She had considerable influence at the 
 court of France^ and could command the Duke 
 of Burgundy in almost any matter connected 
 with her son's interest or her own, since, by her 
 means, the Duke had espoused the only child of 
 Lewis de Male by his deceased Countess, a girl 
 but fourteen years of age. 
 
 The Earl himself had been married^ for reasons 
 of state policy, when very young, so that he had 
 become a widower, and his only child a wife, 
 when he was but yet thirty-six years old. 
 
 Anna implicitly obeyed the directions of 
 Henry de Cassel, and bent her steps towards 
 the south entrance of the palace garden, wliere
 
 176 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 a tower which flanked a part of the boundary 
 walls was inhabited by the warder of whom 
 Henry had made mention, Anna, upon shew- 
 ing him the ring, obtained instant admittance, 
 and requested him, as she had been directed, to 
 afford her the means of a private interview with 
 the Earl. Whilst she made this request she 
 blushed, ashamed to express^ even to a domestic, 
 her desire for an interview liable to the most 
 cruel misconstruction. 
 
 Yet at the sight of the ring, the warder ad- 
 dressed her with the most marked respect, and 
 saying that the Earl usually walked in the gar- 
 den about noon, if she would place herself in a 
 little Gothic pleasure-house which stood near 
 the tower, he doubted not she would have an 
 opportunity of seeing him alone. Lewis de 
 Male, who, it may be right to apprize the 
 reader, was both a patron and a lover of learn- 
 ing, generally past an hour or two there each 
 day ; for he made it his private study. 
 
 " But," said Anna, in a hesitating manner, 
 <^ may not the Countess come with him, or 
 Gilbert Matthew ? or "
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 177 
 
 " No^" replied the warder, " not this morn- 
 ing, since neither the Countess nor Gilbert are 
 yet returned from the city, and I saw my lord 
 in the garden but now, alone^ after parting with 
 his kinsman. Sir Walter D'Anghien ; besides," 
 continued the warder, " when the Lord Lewis 
 passes my post, I will tell him that a fair lady 
 awaits to see him in the pleasure-house, and at 
 such a hearing he will not delay to go to it." 
 
 Anna again blushed, but forbore to make any 
 farther enquiry, for she remembered the injunc- 
 tions of Henry, to avoid discoursing with the 
 warder ; and, beyond what seemed necessary to 
 be said, the man himself appeared to be as little 
 disposed to communicate with her. She fol- 
 lowed him, therefore, in silence to the pleasure- 
 house, where the Earl delighted to pass his pri- 
 vate hours, and where he occasionally cultivated 
 talents which, but for his profligate manners, 
 would have reflected honour upon his country. 
 
 The pleasure-house was admirably adapted as 
 a place for study, since it stood sequestered, 
 surrounded by trees, and watered by a small 
 stream that ran near it, whose low murmurs 
 
 VOL, I. N
 
 178 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 were calculated to soothe and compose the mind. 
 In the apartnient where Anna was conducted, 
 she observed several manuscripts, and writing 
 materials, with loose parchments and papers, 
 that lay scattered upon a table in the centre of 
 the room. 
 
 A blue velvet mantle, lined with ermine, was 
 carelessly lying upon a chair ; it seemed by this 
 circumstance that the Earl had already been in 
 the room, and had, most probably, for the day 
 was sultry, cast off the mantle of state in which 
 he had appeared at the mass. Anna paused to 
 think in what manner she should address him, 
 and as her mind was thus engaged, she drew 
 from her bosom the paper she had intended to 
 present that morning, and re-perused the con- 
 tents ; thinking perhaps she had better give it to 
 the Earl at once, and thus spare herself the pain 
 of first breaking the subject to him by words. 
 
 Whilst Anna was thus absorbed in thought, 
 holding the paper with her eyes fixed upon it, 
 the door opened, and Lewis de Male suddenly 
 stood before her. Abashed, affrighted^ and sur- 
 prised, Anna lost her presence of mind, and 
 5
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 179 
 
 letting fall the paper, she clasped her hands 
 together, and cast a wild and disordered glance 
 upon the Earl ; still too much agitated to speak, 
 she sank upon her knees before him, and could 
 only, in a supplicating manner, look up in his 
 face. 
 
 '^ Anna !" said Lewis. ^« Rise, fairest Anna^ 
 and tell me, I beseech you, what chance has 
 brought hither the daughter of John Lyon ?'* 
 
 " She is here to implore you that she may 
 still be a daughter," replied Anna, trembling as 
 she spoke, '^ and not the orphan of a beloved 
 father. Oh, my lord, if ever you hope to enjoy 
 peace on earth, or happiness in heaven, read 
 over this paper." ( She took it from the ground 
 and offered it to Lewis.) "I — I wrote it, 
 but I am now too much agitated to plead, as I 
 would do, my own cause ; read, then — read the 
 paper." 
 
 There was such an energy in the manner in 
 
 which Anna urged her request^ such an agonised 
 
 anxiety depicted in her countenance, that Lewis 
 
 could not refuse her ; lie took the paper from 
 
 N 2
 
 180 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 her hand in silence, and immediately read it 
 with attention. 
 
 " Is this really so ?" said he. '« Was John 
 Lyon, then, but the involuntary agent of this 
 man's death ? I was told otherwise." 
 
 " Oh, it was false ! most false ! whoever told 
 you so," replied Anna. '' My father is innocent. 
 You can^ my lord — oh, you will — you will save 
 his life." 
 
 '^ And how, Anna," answered the Earl, " how 
 can I save a man who has injured me in the 
 tenderest point; who has withdrawn fi'om my 
 court, and secreted from my view, the treasure, 
 the joy, of my life — yourself, Anna ?" 
 
 " My lord_," said the trembling girl, as she 
 blushed deeply, " do not, I conjure you, blame 
 my father. In what he did, it was to comply 
 with my request ; and oh ! forgive me when I 
 say, that in justice you cannot blame him ; he 
 but disobeyed your commands as an earthly 
 prince, to observe those of the King of Heaven." 
 
 '^ And what," said the Earl, ^^ what am I now 
 to hope, if I grant this pardon ?"
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 181 
 
 ^« For the prayers," answered Anna, " of her 
 you will have saved from the sorrows of the 
 fatherless — prayers that never knock at Heaven's 
 gates in vain. The gratitude, the heartfelt gra- 
 titude, of one who will daily bless your name ; 
 and as she begs Heaven's choicest gifts to fall 
 upon your head, will think of her prince as the 
 guardian and the father of his people." 
 
 ^« And will return the obligation," replied 
 Lewis^ " by shunning the presence of that prince 
 who adores her, even as she would shun the 
 society of the lowest and most worthless vassal 
 of his dominions. No^ Anna, your father has 
 deceived me once, but he shall never do so more. 
 If my passion is hateful to you, you have to thank 
 him for its birth. It was your father who first 
 brought you to me ; it was your father who 
 fanned the infant flame with hope; he did so 
 to gratify a vain ambition, and now he must 
 suffer, or you must abide its consequence." 
 
 '^^ Is there no other way?" said Anna, greatly 
 
 distressed. Sinking again upon her knees, she 
 
 caught his hand^ and with a mixture of boldness 
 
 and tender feeling in her manner, spoke to him, 
 
 n3
 
 182 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 not with that distance she would observe to the 
 prince, but as calling upon the pity of a fellow- 
 creature : " Oh, my lord, say not thus ; do not 
 violate the filial piety of a daughter, by making 
 a thing so holy the instrument of guilty lest it 
 fall with bitter retribution on your own head ; 
 you are yourself a father; think but upon that, 
 and nature^ who never pleads in vain, will speak 
 to your heart, and tell you, that however human 
 frailty may err in seeking the good of a child, 
 the error should be looked upon with mercy. 
 A child, remember, that has been cradled in a 
 parent's arms in helpless infancy, is dear, dear 
 beyond every thing on earth ; and that to save a 
 daughter's innocence, a father would brave every 
 peril, even to the death." 
 
 " Your father has deserved to die," said the 
 Earl, ^* for he has deceived me ; yet for your 
 sake, Anna, I would do much ; I would have 
 done all that man can do for woman's love ; I 
 would have married you, but for that curse 
 which binds princes to wed for state occasions." 
 
 " My lord," replied Anna, modestly, " such 
 a marriage would have been beyond my desires
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 183 
 
 or my degree. The circle of high-born honour 
 would be awS unseemly upon the brows of a poor 
 burgher's daughter, as to call her wife would be 
 beneath the dignity of a prince. All things seek 
 their order and their kind. The lion, lord of 
 the forest that he ranges, mates not with the kid ; 
 nor could the eagle stoop from the crested rock, 
 or leave to gaze upon the sun^ and seek to pair 
 with the lowlier tenant of the woods. I could 
 never have been your equal, my lord, how then 
 could I become your wife ? I should but have 
 disgraced the mantle of state by my homely 
 bearing." 
 
 ^« You would have honoured it by your beauty 
 and your worth/' replied the Earl; " but that 
 cannot be. Hear me, Anna; as a prince, as a 
 judge, your father's life is in my absolute power. 
 You are also in my power, for did I need a pre- 
 text to detain you, the law of Ghent would give it 
 me — I could find it, by holding you as the near 
 kindred of a man so charged, and so suspected. 
 But know, I will not stoop to force ; it is that 
 heart, that mind, I value in you — it is there I 
 would gain an interest, and by your own free 
 N 4
 
 184 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 will. Without your heart to accompany the 
 gift, you, Anna, would be of little worth to 
 Lewis." 
 
 ^' And of still less with it_," replied Anna, 
 " when that heart became corrupted. Oh, do 
 not, my prince, so far debase your noble nature, 
 to use the power you hold but as God's steward 
 here on earth, to abuse a simple maiden. Here," 
 added Anna, and she went towards the table, 
 and took up a blank paper that lay upon it; 
 '' here, my lord, do an act of mercy — write but 
 your gracious pardon for my father, and every 
 word shall find its register in Heaven to bless 
 you. Nay, I can write the pardon_, so you will 
 but sign it — put but your name to the paper, 
 and he shall live, and I will daily breathe that 
 name in my prayers to listening angels." 
 
 The Earl hesitated — he walked towards the 
 table^ and laid his hand upon the paper : whilst 
 Anna, exulting in the hopes which this action 
 gave her, her cheeks flushed, her hands pressed 
 together in all the breathless anxiety of sus- 
 pended expectation, stood mute and motionless. 
 The Earl looked upon her, and, struck by the
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 185 
 
 matchless beauty of her countenance, (now ani- 
 mated by every feeling of her soul, through the 
 anxious circumstances of her fate,) he could not 
 resist the moment of temptation. He ceased_5 
 therefore, to make the effort, and his better pur- 
 pose entirely forsook him. 
 
 ^^ No, Anna," he exclaimed, " no, on one 
 condition only will I grant the pardon. It is, 
 that you will see me — that you will hear me — 
 that I may hope to gain by my devoted love 
 some place in your affections. Do this — give 
 me but the slightest hope, and your father 
 lives. And that you really do so, accept some 
 token of my love. " Here," added the Earl, as 
 he drew a magnificent chain of massive gold (the 
 same manufactured by the master of the gold- 
 smiths) from his neck, " wear this, my Anna ; it 
 was designed as a gift to a dear kinsman, Sir 
 Walter D'Anghien, but no one can be so dear 
 to Lewis as yourself. Wear it, and let me 
 hope." 
 
 Anna, who stood like one pursued to the verge 
 of a precipice, who fears alike to go forward or
 
 186 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 to draw back, dreaded to incense the Earl by a 
 violent opposition to his wishes, and yet she 
 could not so far dissemble as to give her assent 
 to the proposal. To accept the token would be 
 to encourage Lewis's hopes ; she endeavoured^ 
 therefore, and in her case it was a pardonable 
 subterfuge, to waive the proposal altogether. 
 '^ My lord," she said, " I dare not wear the 
 token : think how fatal to me might be the con- 
 sequence^ should the Countess of Artois view 
 your gift upon my neck. She would know again 
 a thing so precious, and that it must have come 
 from you." 
 
 Even the Earl appeared for a moment em- 
 barrassed by this objection, for he really feared 
 his mother : *^ She need not know it," replied 
 he ; '' you may say the chain was the gift of the 
 old rich Baroness, who loved you so well^ and 
 quitted our court to end her days as a nun." 
 
 '^ No, my lord," replied Anna, " I cannot so 
 dissimulate; and, believe me, truth will more 
 adorn my mind than the finest chain of gold 
 could my person, when it must be suspended by
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 18'7 
 
 falsehood round my neck. I cannot take the 
 token ; for if I did, the world should know it 
 to be yours." 
 
 " Nay, but you shall," said the Earl ; " I will 
 fear no mother, either for you or for myself. 
 I will act freely, in spite of the Countess of 
 Artois. Mark me, Anna, I will not now urge 
 you to speak all I could wish to hear. Only be 
 silent, and I will fancy your very silence as 
 favourable to my hopes. Wear that token, and 
 as long as it hangs about your neck, I will 
 continue to hope for the future ; it shall be the 
 sign of a compact between us ; and I will grant 
 the pardon." 
 
 " No^ my lord, no," eagerly cried Anna, ^' I 
 cannot; I will not even silently assent to my 
 own shame ; never will I do so ; keep your gift, 
 and leave me innocent." 
 
 ^^ Aye, and fatherless," replied the artful 
 Lewis. " Adieu, Anna ! our conference is ended. 
 The provost marshal is already in possession of 
 the warrant to authorize your father's death the 
 moment he is taken. Gilbert Matthew procured 
 it last night, ere search was made for him,"
 
 188 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 The Earl turned to depart. Anna rushed 
 between him and the door^ and seizing him by 
 his vest, as her countenance changed to ashy 
 whiteness, she exclaimed, in a voice of agony, 
 " Stay^ yet stay ; grant me the pardon, and I 
 will wear the token." Lewis eagerly assisted 
 her to rise, pressed her in his embrace, and 
 threw the chain of gold about her neck. " But 
 oh !'* she added, as she looked upon it, '^ how 
 gladly would I exchange these golden links, 
 for chains of iron, in the deepest dungeon, so I 
 might save my father, and yet " 
 
 "^ Peace, Anna, peace," cried the Earl, " do 
 not make me once more revoke my mercy; 
 remember our compact; aye, it is a compact. 
 Here," he continued, as he hastily wrote the 
 paper, " here is your father's pardon : but 
 remember ! once remove that chain from your 
 neck by your own act, refuse to see me, or to 
 give me hope, and look to Heaven as your 
 only father ; for I swear, by all that I believe 
 on earth, by all that I may hope or dread here- 
 after, from that moment he shall die; I leave 
 you now to think upon it. Farewell,"
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 189 
 
 The Earl departed, exulting in his success of 
 having engaged Anna to wear a chain of gold, 
 as a love-token, about her neck; for Lewis^ 
 notwithstanding his superior talents and sense, 
 believed in a superstition common to his country 
 and his time, which considered^ that so long as 
 such a token should be worn with the consent 
 of the wearer, it would act as a spell or charm 
 to bind the beloved object to the giver of the 
 pledge. 
 
 Anna carefully deposited the pardon within 
 her bosom, and hastened to depart from the 
 pleasure-house. As she quitted the little path- 
 way, which wound amidst the trees that sur- 
 rounded this sequestered spot^ she heard a 
 rusding amongst their leaves, and turning a hasty 
 glance in that direction, she espied, in part, the 
 figure of a man^ who seemed to be lurking 
 near. Alarmed at the circumstance, and wishing 
 to avoid observation^ she now quickened her 
 pace, hastened towards the tower by which she 
 had entered, and departed with all speed, and 
 once more found herself safe in the road to 
 Ghent.
 
 190 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 And now that her object was achieved, now 
 that she no longer felt apprehensions for her 
 father's life, the difficulties of her own situation, 
 the involuntary, and yet acquiescing, part she 
 had taken in the EarPs proposal, weighed heavily 
 upon her mind. The tumult of suspended ex- 
 pectation and fluctuating hope had subsided, 
 but it was succeeded by a deep and melancholy 
 presage of coming evil ; and the horrible scene 
 she had witnessed on the previous night, a 
 scene she was sworn to conceal, awakened ap- 
 prehensions that made her think the pardon she 
 now carried to her father, might soon, perhaps^ 
 be revoked^ or prove of little essential benefit to 
 him. 
 
 These reflections rapidly succeeded each other, 
 as she bent her steps towards Ghent j and at 
 length, after many efforts, she brought her mind 
 to the pious resolution, to endeavour to banish 
 for a time all fears upon her own account; if 
 possible, to forget herself, in the efforts she de- 
 termined to make to withdraw her father from 
 his desperate associates. 
 
 Anna entered within the city gates without
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 191 
 
 interruption, and^ eager to convey to John Lyon 
 the good news of her successful mission^ she 
 determined now to take the direct way, and not 
 to lengthen her walk circuitously for the purpose 
 of concealment. She turned down a handsome 
 street, therefore, near the walls of the city, 
 where a few houses^ belonging to some of the 
 wealthy merchants^ or more opulent burghers 
 of Ghent, had small enclosed gardens in front of 
 them. 
 
 But scarcely had she entered the street, when 
 her ears were assailed with loud and tumultuous 
 shouts, and she soon perceived that a large 
 body of men were passing up this very street 
 in the order of a procession, accompanied by a 
 multitude, or rather mob, composed of the 
 lower order of the people, and all the idle 
 boys of the place. Greatly alarmed, and 
 fearing lest any unfortunate accident might 
 occasion her loss of the pardon (notwith- 
 standing it was secured within her bosom), 
 she hesitated a moment what to do. She 
 could not hope to make her way through 
 such a crowd, and she saw plainly it was not
 
 192 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 a, religious procession. If she retreated, she 
 might be forced along with the advancing mul- 
 titude — she might be insulted. What to do^ she 
 knew not; and for a moment stood stilly irre- 
 solute how to act. 
 
 In this emergency, she heard a citizen, who 
 was looking on, say to his companion near him, 
 '^ There they go ; it is the deputation. They 
 are going to Andrighien, to demand from the 
 Earl Sir Simon de Bete ; for Lewis has secured 
 in his prison of Ecclo one of the burgomasters 
 of Ghent, an act which even his authority 
 cannot lawfully accomplish, without a warrant 
 from the city magistrates to commit their fellow 
 officer. It is a breach of their franchises that 
 may cost the Earl a world of trouble, if he 
 does not give Sir Simon liberty upon their 
 demand." 
 
 This at once explained to Anna the nature of 
 the procession, and accounted for the tumultuous 
 manner of the mob, which now advanced nearer 
 and nearer, till Anna found herself almost sur- 
 rounded by the crowd, and forced against the 
 gate of one of those small gardens in front of
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 193 
 
 the houses before noticed. Her fears made her 
 bold, and she no longer hesitated to pass within 
 the gate to seek temporary shelter ; and, indeed^ 
 she needed it, for her mantle, which she had 
 carefully wrapped about her on leaving the 
 palace, had been so violently pulled back by the 
 sudden rush of the people, that the clasp had 
 given way and was broken, and the dress she 
 wore beneath, with the splendid chain of 
 gold upon her neck, could not but be visible 
 to all. 
 
 She retreated, therefore, into the little garden, 
 and observing a lady standing in that part of it 
 nearest to the house, as if looking on to witness 
 the bustle in the street, Anna had no doubt this 
 lady was the mistress of the house, and immedi- 
 ately advanced towards her, to ask a tempo- 
 rary shelter, and to explain the cause of her 
 intrusion. 
 
 The lady she addressed was a young woman 
 of extraordinary beauty. Her figure was of the 
 middling stature, and finely formed. Her eyes 
 and hair were of a dark colour, the former bril- 
 liant and expressive. Her complexion, though 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 194 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 brown, was exquisitely clear and transparent ; and 
 her mouthy of the Hveliest carnation, might have 
 rivalled in grace and symmetry that of the finest 
 antique statue. Her air was so noble, and her 
 dress so rich, that had Anna seen her at Andrig- 
 hien, she would have taken the fair stranger for a 
 woman of the highest birth. Yet the fashion of her 
 attire was not such as Anna would herself have 
 adopted ; it was something too gay, too liberal, 
 in displaying the person of the wearer, which, 
 beautiful as it was, might have found a more 
 attractive grace, had modesty cast a veil over 
 charms thus exposed, that seemed to proclaim a 
 consciousness of their beauty, but an indelicacy- 
 as to the sense of their effect. 
 
 Whilst the stranger looked at Anna with such 
 fixed attention as almost made the bashful girl 
 tremble, a shade of anger seemed to steal over 
 her dark and beautiful brow. When she spok«, 
 which she did fluently and well, her accent pro- 
 claimed her to be a foreigner. She replied, to 
 Annans excuse for her intrusion, with a slight 
 assurance that she was welcome to remain where 
 she was till the crowd had past; and she added, 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 195 
 
 with a sarcastic sneer, that curled her lip as she 
 spoke, " You may also adjust your mantle before 
 you depart ; since I suppose you would not wil- 
 lingly walk through the public streets tricked 
 out with such a chain as that about your neck, 
 that every one may know you have assumed the 
 golden shackles of a prince, to grace a burgher's 
 daughter." 
 
 Anna, surprised, shocked, and embarrassed by 
 this speech, neither knew how to reply to it, nor 
 what to think. She stood, with a countenance 
 alternately changing from red to white, abso- 
 lutely mute with astonishment. She had but 
 that instant returned from Andrighien — no 
 person had followed her — no one had been 
 present when the Earl threw the chain about hei* 
 neck, and no one could possibly even have seen 
 it upon her, till her mantle was almost torn from 
 her as she entered the gate. 
 
 Anna was not superstitious ; that is, not for 
 the age in which she lived, when superstition was 
 a part of religious faith. A belief, however, in 
 the agency of familiar spirits, in charms and 
 spells, with a dark and presumptuous enquiry 
 o 2
 
 196 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 into futurity, which was hkewise characteristic 
 of the age, were things wholly disregarded by 
 Anna. She did not, therefore, suppose the 
 stranger was indebted to any such means for 
 her extraordinary knowledge of the circum- 
 stances connected with the chain, and felt but 
 the more alarmed by this want of credulity; 
 since any other maiden in Ghent but herself 
 would have set it down to the score of witch- 
 craft. 
 
 Anna was too innocent to frame falsehoods, 
 and even in excuses she was but an awkward 
 practitioner. She knew not how to answer the 
 stranger, but still she felt that stranger had no 
 right to enquire into her affairs. She, there- 
 fore, said nothing in reply, but hastily re- 
 adjusted her mantle, with an air of confusion 
 and embarrassment. Still the stranger seemed 
 to fix her thoughts upon the chain. 
 
 " I know it well," said she ; " it is of no com- 
 mon workmanship. But I will not enquire. I 
 have no right to ask it of you. But come, I will 
 fasten your mantle — your hand trembles so, 
 you can scarcely do it yourself Stay a little —
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 197 
 
 there, closer, draw it closer, to hide those 
 golden links. Why, aye, maiden, that will do ; 
 and now they are as much concealed from sight, 
 beneath thy garment, as one day will be the 
 sorrow, the deep pangs of remorse, within thy 
 bosom, which now is thus adorned. Take heed — 
 the gifts of princes to young maids are but like 
 the nets of the fowler, surely set and baited, that 
 tempt poor birds to come within them, but they 
 never depart thence till their plumage is rifled, 
 and their life is gone." The stranger paused a 
 moment, and looking sternly upon Anna, added, 
 in an angry tone, " So may it be with you ; for 
 why should I wish it otherwise ; and you will 
 not escape if Lewis de Male spreads the snare. 
 So now begone — the crowd is dispersed — 
 leave my presence ; you have tarried here too 
 long already." 
 
 There was such a tone of displeasure, such an 
 air of command in the stranger, when she pro- 
 nounced these last words, that Anna, not know- 
 ing what to think, and greatly alarmed, needed 
 no other intimation to be gone. She bowed her 
 head to the ungentle lady, and walking away as 
 o 3
 
 198 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 fast as her agitated limbs would bear her, re- 
 gained the street, and in a short time she had 
 the happiness of clasping her father's neck, as 
 she sobbed with joy, and gave the pardon into 
 his hands.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 199 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 We must now leave Anna to rejoice, as she 
 did sincerely, in having procured the pardon for 
 her father, and to make her repeated, but fruit- 
 less, attempts to withdraw him from his dan- 
 gerous associates, whilst we say something about 
 the lady in whose garden she had taken a tem- 
 porary shelter, and from whose presence she was 
 so ungraciously dismissed. 
 
 The reader will probably recollect the affair 
 concerning a gold chain, mentioned in the second 
 chapter of this narrative, and that the chain had 
 been made by Sir Simon de Bete, at the express 
 command of the Earl of Flanders, but sold, from 
 mistake, during the absence of the little gold- 
 smith, to Philip Von Artaveld, who presented it 
 to his Italian mistress, the beautiful Bianca. He 
 must also be aware, that upon discovering the 
 mistake, the termagant wife of Sir Simon had 
 regained possession of the chain, which at length 
 o 4
 
 200 THE WHITE HOODS- 
 
 found its way into the hands of the person by 
 whom it was bespoke — the Earl of Flanders. 
 
 Having thus briefly recapitulated these cir- 
 cumstances, the reader will no longer feel sur- 
 prised that the foreign lady, who was no other 
 than Bianca herself, should so readily recognise 
 the chain, and give a shrewd guess by whom it 
 had been bestowed upon the daughter of John 
 Lyon. 
 
 Bianca had before seen Anna in public, and 
 knew who she was, although Anna had never 
 before observed her. Thus the remarks which 
 the Italian addressed to her, however mysterious 
 they might seem to Anna^ were easily accounted 
 for ; since Lewis's admiration of the daughter of 
 the late deacon of the pilots, and her subsequent 
 retreat from the court, had furnished forth a 
 plentiful harvest, to be reaped and gathered in 
 alike by courtiers and gossips, who, each viewing 
 the subject agreeably to their own fancy or dis- 
 position, gave birth to the usual variety of 
 reports, which, having circulated their due round, 
 died away and were forgotten, as fresh subjects 
 of scandal and novelty occurred.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 201 
 
 All these reports were remembered by Bianca^ 
 but the sight of that particular chain upon 
 Anna's neck aroused in her bosom feelings that 
 induced her, as soon as Anna had departed, to 
 resolve upon an immediate visit to no less a 
 person than Ursula, the reputed sorceress, who 
 so boldly solicited an alms, and cursed the Earl 
 of Flanders at the church-door. 
 
 At the period of our narrative a belief in sor- 
 cery, witchcraft, and astrology^ was so imiversally 
 diffused and encouraged throughout Europe, 
 that, notwithstanding the severe laws enacted 
 against persons dealing in such arts^ there was 
 neither country, city, nor town, but possessed 
 some one who had the reputation of possessing 
 such supernatural powers; and the study of 
 magic was considered as much a science as that 
 of mathematics in the present day. Although 
 the regular professors of the black art sometimes 
 suffered the severest penalties of the law, for their 
 real or supposed offences, yet they were more 
 frequently winked at, and allowed to go on in 
 their course, by the very persons whose duty it 
 was to suppress them. For this conniving toler-
 
 202 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 ation the professors were, no doubt, indebted to 
 the supposed services they might occasionally 
 render to the tolerators themselves, by withdraw- 
 ing the veil from futurity ; and sometimes by the 
 convenient agency of making them the instru- 
 ments of doing an ill turn to an enemy, without 
 the danger of detection, or even of suspicion as 
 to the original instigators of so dark and secure 
 a mode of revenge. The chronicles of the olden 
 time exhibit many examples of this description, 
 and particularly in Flanders, where no plot was 
 carried on, no bad design put in execution, 
 without the advice, and even co-operation, of 
 some celebrated witch or magician.* 
 
 * Froissart relates a curious story of an enchanter, who pro- 
 mised the Duke of Anjou that he would, by the power of his 
 art, cause the castle of an enemy to surrender to him. " I 
 can," said the sorcerer, " make the air so thick over the sea, 
 that those in the castle shall think it a large bridge, on which 
 ten men may march in front ; and when they see this bridge, 
 they will be so frightened they will surrender themselves to 
 you, lest, if you attack them, they be taken by storm." The 
 Duke of Anjou, astonished at what he heard, called his knights, 
 to whom he related what the enchanter had just told him. 
 They were very much surprised, but seemed willing to give 
 him faith for it. See Johnes's Froissart, vol. vi, page 41.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 203 
 
 It may readily be supposed that a trade which 
 inspired a mingled feeling of fear and reverence, 
 that was productive of profit, and^ by the very 
 mystery of its character, afforded an excellent 
 screen to falsehood and fraud, could never be 
 wanting either in disciples or professors, in fools 
 to believe, and rogues to teach. Hence it arose, 
 that whenever a worthless character, or a vaga- 
 bond, possessed sufficient craft and abilities to 
 delude the more simple of their fellow-creatures 
 by acquiring a few mysterious tricks, that were 
 calculated to impose upon the senses, they set 
 up the trade of astrologers or witches, and 
 assumed a language which, fi'om its ambiguity, 
 was capable of the utmost latitude of interpre- 
 tation ; whilst their mysterious predictions, often 
 fashioned, by the weak-witted mortals to whom 
 they were addressed, to agree with their own 
 peculiar circumstances, appeared to the mind 
 thus prepossessed, to be literally fulfilled, and 
 were considered as devoutly true. 
 
 It is by no means improbable that many of 
 these wretched traffickers in the black art, com- 
 menced with deluding others, and ended with
 
 204 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 deluding themselves ; and, from a constant ex- 
 citement of the imagination, brought upon them- 
 selves a degree of madness^ till they at length 
 believed they v^^ere actually endov^^ed with the 
 powers they assumed. By constantly dwelling 
 upon one idea, of their own preternatural endow- 
 ments, of spells, invocations, and diabolical 
 assistance, they at last became as wicked in their 
 own nature as the very devils, whom they fancied 
 were obedient to their controul. 
 
 Having said thus much upon the general 
 practice and belief in witchcraft as it existed at 
 the period of this narrative, the reader must 
 now be introduced to one of its professors, who, 
 like many of the tribe to which she belonged, 
 was tinctured both with malice and with frenzy. 
 She considered herself a being of the elements, 
 and though a dweller upon earth, claimed affinity 
 with the spirits of the deep, and the powers of 
 the air. Ursula was an Italian by birth, and 
 now resided in a small house of one of the 
 obscure streets in Ghent, near the market-place, 
 where, to her ordinary functions of fearful im- 
 port^ as an interpreter of the stars, she added
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 205 
 
 some skill in the knowledge of herbs, medicinal 
 compounds, and, though last, not least, oi poisons, 
 a knowledge for which many of her country 
 were so celebrated, that it is said they could 
 administer a dose that should produce death at 
 a certain and specific distance of time from the 
 hour it was taken, either more or lessli ngering, 
 agreeably to the wish of the destroyer — a pro- 
 perty particularly assigned to that poison bearing 
 the name of the aqna-tofana. 
 
 It was to this woman's habitation Bianca now 
 bent her steps, after the interview she had just 
 had with the innocent and unoffending Anna. 
 The apartment into which Bianca entered, was 
 entirely suited to the profession of its occupant, 
 and presented a combination of such objects as 
 were calculated to impose awe upon the vulgar, 
 and to awaken terror in the weak or timid mind. 
 Bianca was of neither, and she entered the cabin 
 of her ancient countrywoman with a firm step, 
 and a haughty, though disturbed, mien. 
 
 Yet the scene which she beheld was really 
 calculated to raise at least disgust, if not alarm, 
 in a female bosom less occupied than Bianca's
 
 206 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 with its own tumultuous feelings. The room 
 in which Ursula held her accustomed orgies, 
 although spacious enough, received its light 
 from a single casement, which was somewhat 
 obscured by wreaths of yew and cypress that 
 were partly suspended before it ; the apartment, 
 therefore, at mid -day, partook of the gloom of 
 night, so that, notwithstanding every thing could 
 be seen within it, nothing was distinctly visible ; 
 there was a dusky obscurity in which the imagi- 
 nation might parcel out shapes and things agree- 
 ably to the mood of horror with which the hag 
 might be desirous to inspire her followers. 
 
 Over the old oak chimney sat an owl, who, 
 familiar with its mistress, would stoop its head 
 towards her, as it roosted above, with its large 
 eyes gUttering even through the darkness. By 
 the side of this chimney hung a collection of 
 bones, whilst a variety of skulls, an entire skele- 
 ton, with a string of human hearts completely 
 withered, a hand and arm wrapped in cere- 
 cloths, with other strange combinations of fearful 
 preparation, were hung around the apartment, 
 to raise the awe and wonder of such unhappy or
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 207 
 
 shallow-witted persons as sought the witch within 
 her unhallowed sanctuary. 
 
 There was also a heterogeneous mixture, an 
 unnatural alliance, of living creatures. The 
 wolf-dog lay extended upon the hearth, and 
 snarled and shewed his white fangs, as he raised 
 his shaggy head to survey the stranger, ready to 
 fly at his throat, should Ursula but give the 
 sign. A rat, trained to be fearless of a large 
 and fierce black cat, with which it was familiar, 
 crept around the apartment ; an ape gambolled 
 and gibbered around, as a raven flapped her 
 wings in anger, and seemed desirous to break 
 her chain to avenge herself on the intruder. 
 
 At the time Bianca entered the apartment, it 
 appeared that Ursula had been engaged in some 
 of her mystic rites^ since the charmed circle was 
 formed in the centre of the room. This con- 
 sisted of a red line or circle marked upon the 
 floor, with nothing placed upon it but a small 
 glass case, in which were several living adders^ 
 that made a hissing noise as they twisted and 
 crawled about within their narrow prison. In 
 the very centre of the circle was seen an ancient
 
 208 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Stone coffin, most probably the spoil of some 
 ruined and pillaged church, during the former 
 disturbances of Ghent, when many graves of the 
 mitred abbots and opulent clergy were opened, 
 in order to plunder their mouldering remains of 
 the golden ornaments or jewels that had been 
 placed about their vestments at the time of in- 
 terment. A single torch burnt by the side of 
 this coffin, and upon it was placed a white hood, 
 and a bough of the yew tree. 
 
 The ancient priestess of this unholy cell, with 
 a wild and malicious expression in her counte- 
 nance, stood, at the moment Bianca entered, 
 with a book in one hand, and in the other she 
 held a rod or wand, the usual appendage of her 
 trade. This wand was twined about with the 
 skin of a serpent, and finished at the top by the 
 horn of a ram. Her gown was of black woollen, 
 and from her girdle hung a pouch. It also 
 exhibited, sti^ck within the belt, a knife, that, 
 for form and size, would have suited as an instru- 
 ment for the sacrifices of old. Her hair, thin 
 and grey, hung in loose disorder down her 
 back; and her dark and swarthy countenance,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 209 
 
 lean and withered, possessed a character that 
 seemed not of this earth, but of the lower world 
 of guilt and terror. 
 
 When Bianca entered this chamber of destiny 
 and death, the hag fixed her eye upon her 
 with a look of fierce delight, as she said, in a 
 voice shrill and discordant^ " You are welcome, 
 daughter, at the hour of a fearful rite." 
 
 "^ And fearlessly is my mind prepared to meet 
 it," replied Bianca. " Is your charm accepted ? 
 or must I await your leisure ?" 
 
 " The charm is accepted," said the witch ; 
 '* but the white hood must rest on the coffin of 
 the dead, till the torch is burnt out; then all is 
 finished. What would you with me ?" 
 
 " I come," answered Bianca, sternly, " not 
 to reproach you, for well do I know that were 
 vain. You would heed my railing as heeds the 
 rock the chafing of the ocean that beats against 
 its base. No ; I come not to reproach you, 
 wretched woman, but to tell you that I fear you 
 not, and, therefore, I will speak." 
 
 " Your words are dark, Bianca," said the 
 hag; " speak plainly, for the mother of the 
 
 VOL, I. p
 
 210 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 mystic spell, the sovereign of spirits and of 
 elements, wastes not her moments in an idle 
 bandy of words with a mortal creature." 
 
 *^ You have broken faith with me," replied 
 Bianca, as her brow darkened,, and angry feel- 
 ings seemed to swell within her bosom. '^ You 
 promised me revenge, a deep and ample revenge, 
 for all my wrongs. You promised me that ruin 
 and misery should fall upon the cause, and that 
 a deadly hatred should succeed to the love which 
 the Earl Lewis entertained for the daughter of 
 John Lyon ; but you have broken faith." 
 
 ^« It is false !" said Ursula ; " it is most false ! 
 Had the fiend who serves me so accused me, 
 I would have held him bound in double tor- 
 ments. Yes, I would have tortured by keeping 
 him from the great work of mischief. Your 
 revenge, and my desire for universal misery, 
 thrives, prospers, and soon will fall upon all the 
 wretched children of sin and clay who inhabit 
 this detested city. The father and the daughter 
 shall both become my victims." 
 
 " It cannot be," replied Bianca. " The Earl 
 is once more in pursuit of Anna — that detested 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 211 
 
 woman, for whose sake Lewis discarded me. I 
 saw her but this day, and upon her neck she 
 wore one of those love*tokens the Earl is wont 
 to bind about his favourites — a chain of gold. 
 I know it to have been his. May the worst 
 plagues that ever gnawed the heart of woman 
 go with it ! Lewis loves Anna — seeks her ; 
 she has accepted him ; it is plain, it must be so ; 
 and all my dear-bought hopes of vengeance are 
 no more. I shall live to see her succeed to that 
 place in his affections, which was once held by 
 the credulous, and now the discarded, Bianca." 
 
 The hag replied to this complaint with a 
 ghastly smile, and said, " Patience, daughter, 
 patience — the work is not yet done." 
 
 " Patience !" exclaimed Bianca, with fury in 
 her looks, as she turned towards the aged sorce- 
 ress. '•'^ Is it you, Ursula, you, who dare speak 
 of patience? and to me! To you I owe my 
 ruin. I was a girl when you came to our con- 
 vent to teach your art of medicine. And what 
 did you, but foster the discontents of the poor 
 novice who longed to look upon that world 
 fi-om which she was shut out ; you promised her 
 p2
 
 212 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 golden dreams of pride and happiness ; talked 
 to her of her beauty, that might raise her to 
 rank and honour; you persuaded her to steal 
 from her convent, and with you." 
 
 " And was not the golden dream of pride 
 fulfilled?" replied Ursula. Bianca heeded not 
 her interruption, but continued her complaint. 
 
 " And what did you then ? Fearful of de- 
 tection, you brought me from my native country, 
 dazzled my young mind with visions of pleasure, 
 placed me within the vortex of temptation, and 
 gave me up a prey to vice and folly; you, 
 Ursula, you did this ; you sold me to the Earl 
 of Flanders." 
 
 " I could not have done it," replied Ursula, 
 " had not your own will helped to seal our 
 compact." 
 
 " Aye, there it is," said Bianca; " I loved 
 Lewis ; I gave him all I had to give — heart, 
 faith, fame, and affection, all were his ; for his 
 sake I bore the insults of men, and the wrath of 
 Heaven ; but while he loved me, I could bear it ; 
 and he — he abandoned me — discarded me, for 
 the sake of another, for the love of Anna. And
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 213 
 
 now think you, wretched woman, that I who 
 hate, loathe, curse you as the foul author of all 
 my misery ; think you, that I would bear with 
 you but to gratify my revenge ? No ; I would 
 have spurned your hellish arts; I would have 
 plunged my dagger in your bosom, and sent 
 you howling, unshriven, and without remorse, to 
 him whose services you do on earth. / would 
 have done this, but that I know your mind, 
 dark as the grave, and wicked as the soul of him 
 who dreamed of the first murder, delights in 
 mischief; can look on an evil work, and, for its 
 own sake, act it. For this I spare you, for this 
 I use you, and for this I stoop to ally myself 
 with such a thing, a loathsome thing, as you 
 are." 
 
 <^ Have you done," said the hag, " or will 
 you ban me farther? I heed not your words, 
 for you have been my victim. And the pangs 
 you daily suffer, that hourly gnaw and rankle 
 within your heart, till they shall consume the life 
 blood, they may claim for you the allowance to 
 curse, even before me. I can hear with in- 
 difference the wordy mood of a weak woman. 
 p3
 
 214 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Yet you owe me something, look at your attire ; 
 that silk might robe a countess; who gave it 
 you^ but your present paramom' ; and who 
 made you known to him, to Von Artaveld, 
 when the Earl discarded you ? — it was Ursula. 
 Von Artaveld loves and protects you, else had 
 you rotted in the very streets of Ghent, like a 
 fallen and a worthless weed, torn from its bed 
 and cast abroad, that every man who passes by 
 might trample beneath his foot." 
 
 " It is true," replied Bianca ; " but no thanks 
 to thee ; but for the generous Von Artaveld, I 
 must have perished^ or have become the most 
 abandoned of my sex. Philip saved me from 
 want ; he has been to me kind in affection, and 
 could I but have brought him innocence for 
 my dower, he would have married me. I 
 cannot love Von Artaveld as I did my princely 
 seducer, but I can serve him and honour him ; 
 he has my gratitude. Nay, laugh not, wretched 
 creature, it is true; but gratitude is a virtue 
 that such a breast as thine can never know." 
 
 " I laugh to hear you speak of any virtue," 
 said Ursula : " vou, who thirst for blood and
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 215 
 
 misery. Leave this vain prating; and if you 
 will have your desires satisfied, till your heart 
 shall take its fill of vengeance, till your body 
 shall be steeped in the red tide of human life 
 up to your very ears^ hear me, and mark my 
 words, for you must help the work of your own 
 will." 
 
 ^' Speak, then," said Bianca; " I will not 
 flinch to hear or to act. Give me but an ample 
 vengeance for all my wrongs, and I will pardon 
 your part in my ruin, and I will bid you draw 
 your knife, which never yet was vainly drawn 
 by you, and plunge it into my heart ; for re- 
 venge once satisfied, life and I have no concern- 
 ment with each other. I shall have no farther 
 work to do on earth." 
 
 '^ This is the proper spirit for my purpose," 
 replied Ursula, exultingly. " Hear me, then. 
 There is in this city a set of miscreants of men, 
 who, desperate in their own fortunes and their 
 hopes, would upset the present state of rule, 
 would embroil their fellow-citizens in blood and 
 outrage, to shape their own course, and raise 
 their ambitious hopes upon the spoils of the 
 p 4
 
 216 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 general wreck. They have formed such a plot 
 as shall consign to ruin, misery, and death, 
 thousands of living souls. I have already paced 
 the ground where their slaughtered bodies shall 
 blacken, whilst they feed the ravens and the 
 worm. I have trampled on the earth that lies 
 ready to receive them ; and, in the foresight of 
 that coming time, I have already thought that 
 I could snuflP the smell of blood around me." 
 
 i *^ And what have I to do with this?" en- 
 quired Bianca. " In what new mischief am I 
 required to act ?" 
 
 " This plot," said Ursula, " if it goes on, 
 will do your work of vengeance fully and com- 
 pletely, upon John Lyon, his accursed daughter, 
 and Lewis the betrayer. Will that pleasure 
 you ?" 
 
 '' Not the death of Lewis," replied Bianca, 
 mournfully ; '^ I would not harm his life ; for 
 although he has misused and abandoned me, I 
 could not see him dead. Yet 1 would have him 
 suffer in soul as I have suffered ; I would have 
 him behold the new object of his love a mangled 
 and disfigured corpse at his feet; I would pluck
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 217 
 
 him from his high place, and then leave him 
 to obscurity and sorrow, a ruined fortune, and 
 a worthless fame." 
 
 " Thy vengeance is good, proud woman," 
 said Ursula ; <' it is such as fiends devise, and 
 triumph to enact. It spares the life for a time, 
 to wring the soul with agony, like the exe- 
 cutioner who tears limb by limb upon the rack^ 
 before he gives the blow of grace and death. 
 Thy purpose shall be satisfied. Now hear what 
 part you have to play in this great work. The 
 men of whom I spoke want some leader, whose 
 name, whose talents, whose authority may in- 
 fluence the better class of citizens to join in their 
 deep plans. Philip Von Artaveld is the man 
 upon whom all eyes are turned ; his very name 
 is a spell, for his father, Jacob Von Artaveld, 
 ruled like a king in Ghent, raised the opulence 
 of the city, confirmed its franchises, and by his 
 wisdom and his courage made Flanders ho- 
 noured, respected, feared, that even the proud 
 monarch, Edward the Third of England, sought 
 his alliance and his friendship." 
 
 " And the ungrateful citizens of Ghent,"
 
 218 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 replied Bianca, " requited Jacob for his pains 
 as you would have had them ; for, in a moment 
 of tumult and discontent, they murdered him ; 
 and this cruel circumstance has made Philip, 
 his son, wary how he deals with them, and 
 hitherto he has shunned a public station." 
 
 '' Aye/' said Ursula, '^ but Philip has a high, 
 proud, and daring spirit, and could he but once 
 be taught to hope that he might rise to the 
 height his father had ascended to serve his 
 country, he would not be backward to join in 
 such a cause. I know the intention of these 
 conspirators; they will endeavour to win him over 
 to their plans. Do you in the interval work upon 
 his mind with all your arts, lead him to expect 
 the crown of success to his ambition, fan the 
 embers of that hidden fire that lurks within his 
 breast, into a living and a sudden flame, and all 
 will prove successful. Von Artaveld once gained, 
 thousands of our citizens will follow his example, 
 and rise at once, for Lewis is little loved." 
 
 " I will, I will do so," exclaimed Bianca; 
 " I will use every means, every argument that 
 may prevail, and I know his temper. He is
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 219 
 
 sudden and fiery, even as he is generous and 
 brave ; we will succeed or perish." 
 
 *« In the mean time," said Ursula, " I shall be 
 busy with these men ; for all of them, more or 
 less, seek me. Some, that I may foretell to 
 them the future ; others, that I may aid them in 
 the work. It is Ursula, too, who renders their 
 mailed coats proof against the sword or axe, by 
 the potency of her spells. It is Ursula who 
 tempers the hard steel of their daggers point in 
 poisons, that remain to fret and anger even to 
 death the slightest wound they make. From 
 various causes, all seek me, but most of all from 
 fear ; lest, wanting my connivance, my sanction 
 of their scheme, it should fail them ; for I am 
 dreaded and fawned upon by the base herd, 
 even as worldly princes are ; and like the great 
 ones of the earth, I can use them and cast them 
 off at pleasure." 
 
 " And what are now your plans ?" enquired 
 Bianca. 
 
 ^' You shall know all in time," said Ursula ; 
 " for I shall need you. I have a device that 
 shall stir up these men to madness; and the
 
 220 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 curse that the Earl dared to vent on me shall 
 fall upon his own head in awful retribution. 
 Now begone, follow my instructions; be but 
 patient, and the storm, though it gathers slowly, 
 shall burst fearfully. Leave me for the present, 
 for I have that to do which craves my utmost 
 care ; go then, and may the fiend of discord 
 be with your steps, and prosper your design. 
 Look !" exclaimed Ursula, exultingly. ^« He 
 hears me ! he awaits me ! the torch expires — 
 the charm is complete — the White Hood, the 
 White Hood, shall do his work and mine."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 221 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 1 HE course of our narrative now obliges us to 
 speak of the affairs of Ghent, and of those plots 
 that had been so secretly and so artfully carried 
 on by Peter du Bois, John Lyon^ Arnoul le 
 Clerc, and other malcontents, who all, actuated 
 by private views and passions, hoped to satisfy 
 their revenge, to aid their ambition, or to raise 
 their fortunes upon the subversion of the ex- 
 isting state of government. 
 
 A venerable chronicler of the time affords a 
 most copious detail of these affairs. Here, 
 therefore, it would be needless to attempt giving 
 an account of them at large, since they will be 
 found so amply stated in his own manner of 
 prolix but interesting description. Still, how- 
 ever, it is necessary that such a general view 
 of the subject should be given, that the reader 
 (if unacquainted with that minute historian)
 
 222 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 may be able to comprehend the steps by which 
 those important results were brought about that 
 must hereafter be mentioned in these pages. 
 
 For some time the conspirators carried on 
 their meetings in the utmost privacy, and with 
 the greatest caution; but as their party strength- 
 ened they became less circumspect, and often 
 openly assembled at the houses of each other, 
 since a general discontent now prevailed, even 
 amongst the more respectable and opulent class 
 of the citizens. The Earl was impolitic, and, 
 without himself designing to injure his " good 
 town of Ghent," he allowed too much power to 
 his officers and deputies, who abused it beyond 
 whatever could have happened had Lewis de 
 Male taken that active part in securing the 
 public welfare which his station required of 
 him. 
 
 The deputation that had been sent from 
 Ghent, to demand the freedom of its citizen, 
 proved unsuccessful, and his detention was a 
 breach of a most important franchise, which the 
 citizens had always considered the security of
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 their general and individual liberty; for the Earl, 
 instead of taking the affair into his own hands, 
 contented himself with referring the deputation 
 to his high bailiff of Ghent, Roger d'Auterme. 
 The bailiff was, therefore, solicited to give free- 
 dom to the citizen ; but he only answered, " If 
 my prisoner were ten times as rich as the one I 
 have in ward, I would never set him out of prison 
 without an order from the Earl. I have powers 
 to arrest, but none to set free." 
 
 This answer, which in fact spoke but the 
 truth, was busily circulated through Ghent with 
 an evil intention by the conspirators, so that 
 many of the chief citizens began to murmur, and 
 to say it was a breach of their privileges that 
 ought not to be suffered ; and that if this act 
 should be allowed to pass, '* all the franchises 
 of Ghent, which were so noble, would be lost." 
 
 Another incident also occurred at this time to 
 forward the views of the malcontents, and to stir 
 up strife in the city. Ghent and Bruges had 
 long contended in jealous rivalry, so that the 
 slightest advantage granted to the one was 
 viewed with an envious and suspicious eye by
 
 224 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 the other ; and to such a height was this jealousy 
 for pre-eminence carried, that the rival cities 
 looked upon each other more as avowed enemies, 
 than as the people of the same government and 
 country. Bruges had risen to great opulence ; 
 but there was one advantage which, notwith- 
 standing all its riches, must ever have given 
 the superiority to Ghent. This arose from the 
 former city having neither river nor canals to 
 facilitate its commerce ; whilst the latter enjoyed 
 the benefit of numerous canals, and the rivers 
 Scheld and Lis. 
 
 To form such a canal as would afford Bruges 
 the advantage of the river Lis, had long been 
 the aim of its inhabitants. All were anxious for 
 it; all would have contributed towards the 
 necessary sums for executing the work with 
 promptitude and effect, could they have but once 
 secured the sanction of the Earl for such an 
 undertaking, in order that it might be carried 
 on, undisturbed by the jealous vigilance of the 
 men of Ghent. 
 
 But the citizens of Ghent were a fierce and a 
 warlike body : Lewis feared them ; for too well
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 225 
 
 did he remember the latter times, when Jacob 
 Von Artaveld had usurped the authority of the 
 lawful prince in Flanders. He remained, there- 
 fore, undecided, till the people of Bruges, by 
 various intrigues, at length obtained from him 
 the sanction necessary to carry on their work. 
 The whole affair had been conducted with the 
 utmost secrecy and caution ; still vague reports ' 
 of it were whispered abroad, and made another 
 subject of complaint by the malcontents, who 
 aimed at nothing more earnestly than so to embroil 
 the town of Ghent with the Earl and the people 
 of Bruges, that a general insurrection of the 
 citizens would be the consequence. 
 
 Another great cause of dissatisfaction arose 
 from the power of Gilbert Matthew and his 
 brothers, who, it was openly said, sold at their 
 own price all the offices and places in the state, 
 and filled their pockets with bribes, ere they 
 would allow any suit to find its way to the 
 Earl. 
 
 The tax that had been laid upon the pilots 
 
 and foreign merchants was found so grievous, 
 
 that many of the latter talked of giving up their 
 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 226 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 commerce with Ghent — a thing which threatened 
 ruin to that city ; so that it was now pubHcly 
 said every franchise would be worth nothing, 
 unless some one stood boldly forward in their 
 support. Thus did the discontents of the people 
 gradually spread through the city, to the great 
 joy of the more artful insurgents, whose least 
 wish was to see these grievances corrected, lest 
 peace^ instead of rebellion, should ensue. 
 
 The Earl, who sometimes visited Bruges and 
 Lille, was artfully kept in ignorance of much 
 that had become a subject of complaint, and 
 although he heard that a disaffected party 
 actually existed in Ghent^ yet he was deceived 
 as to its number and extent^ and was made to 
 think it could be at any time easily put down, 
 should there arise a serious cause to sanction 
 the exertion of his own power. It appears, from 
 the train of events which occurred, that the Earl 
 was really the most aggrieved person, although 
 he cannot escape the charge of negligence in the 
 first instance, nor did he resort to any violent 
 measures, till compelled to do so by the conduct 
 of the people of Ghent.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 2S7 
 
 Such was the state of things at that period. 
 We now resume the thread of our narrative. 
 The leaders of the malcontents were anxious to 
 obtain all the support they could from persons 
 of the more opulent classes, since the greater 
 part of their avowed followers consisted of the 
 most worthless of the people. Peter du Bois, 
 whose sagacity and cunning enabled him to look 
 beyond the present time, felt anxious to attach 
 to his interest some citizen, who might act as a 
 chief in the rebellion, whose influence was power- 
 ful with his compeers, and upon whom Du Bois 
 might throw the odium of any measures that 
 might hereafter fail, without the danger of Peter 
 himself suffering in the opinion of his own party, 
 since whatever he should suggest, he must still be 
 but a second, and not a principal in the measure, 
 — the responsibility would" rest with another. 
 
 Guided by this artful policy, he resolved to 
 make a bold attempt to engage Philip Von 
 Artaveld in the cause. He knew, by means of 
 his agent Ursula, that Philip's mind had been 
 worked upon by Bianca, and that it needed but 
 S2
 
 228 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 some sudden and striking circumstance to make 
 the thoughtless but bold Von Artaveld declare 
 himself of the insurgent party. " I must win 
 him at once," said Du Bois to Ursula ; '* he 
 must not be allowed time for deliberate reflec- 
 tion ; and if you execute your plan adroitly, he 
 will become ours without the possibility of 
 recantation." Ursula assured Du Bois that she 
 was prepared, and waited but tlie proper hour 
 to act with effect, when i •; only Von Artaveld, 
 but thousands of the disaffected, she had no 
 doubt, would rise in open rebellion. 
 
 The malcontents had arranged that every 
 thing necessary should be ready, to enable them 
 to declare publicly their purpose at the approach- 
 ing festival of archery. This was yearly held in 
 the neighbourhood of Ghent, since no city in 
 Europe was more famed for the skill of its 
 archers, either in the cross or long bow ; and it 
 had long been foreseen that the occasion of 
 the festival would give the malcontents a fair 
 opportunity for uniting themselves into armed 
 bands, under pretext of being thus assembled
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 229 
 
 to practise with warlike weapons, merely for 
 their sport. 
 
 All was now prepared, yet with so much care, 
 silence, and precaution, that the dangerous plots 
 which threatened ruin to the Earl and his ad- 
 herents might be compared to a secret mine of 
 gunpowder, which lies still, but ready — unsus- 
 pected, yet certain — and which explodes with a 
 terrible convulsion on the slightest spark being 
 set to the train. On this occasion it was Peter 
 du Bois who had laid that train, and Ursula, his 
 infamous agent and accomplice, held the match 
 ready in her hand. In what manner she used 
 the lighted brand will hereafter appear. 
 
 Actuated by the motives before named, Peter 
 du Bois, on the morning of the festival, waited 
 upon Philip Von Artaveld, (having previously 
 seen Bianca at the house of Ursula, where all 
 things were settled between them,) in order to 
 make that last and bold attempt, so long medi- 
 tated. Philip entered the room, where Du Bois 
 awaited him, examining a long bow which he 
 held in his hand, and gaily singing a stanza of 
 an old Flemish ballad, not unlike our own ballads 
 S3
 
 230 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 in celebration of the archery of " Merry Sher- 
 wood." 
 
 " The bowman bent his bow so strong. 
 
 And aimed him at the clout ; 
 Swift flew the arrow, straight and long. 
 While all the people shout. 
 
 " The clout is struck, the prize is won. 
 
 So true the shaft was sent ; 
 Oh ! well has your good bowman done. 
 
 Ye merry men of Ghent." 
 
 Philip Von Artaveld, wlio carolled this old 
 air with as light a heart as ever beat within the 
 bosom of a thoughtless young man, was of a tall 
 and comely person. His countenance^ frank 
 and open, expressive of a gay and anilnated 
 temper, still possessed the stamp of superior 
 intellect. The forehead was high, and the brow 
 projecting ; and the eyes would flash fire when- 
 ever his feelings were aroused by any high-minded 
 purpose or discom'se. Philip greeted Peter du 
 Bois as one young man greets another with 
 whom he is on a familiar footing, without cere- 
 mony or observance, and proceeded to speak on 
 the topic of the day, the festival of archery.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 231 
 
 " We shall have brave sport," said Von 
 Artaveld. " The knights of St. Sebastian 
 against the knights of St. George; Ghent against 
 all Flanders ; not a man of them but has prac- 
 tised, and brought down, his bird." 
 
 " There is other and more worthy game," 
 replied Du Bois, " for men like you and me, 
 Von Artaveld. Before you repair to the field, 
 I would seriously speak with you." 
 
 *^ M^hat, to-day ?" said Philip. '« In sooth, I 
 was never less in the mood for any thing but the 
 flight of a grey goose wing. Only look abroad, 
 Du Bois. See what weather we have; not a 
 breath of air stirs to swerve an arrow from its 
 aim. And see what a quiver I have, of the right 
 true kind. The shafts all of ash, fine, smooth, 
 and taper ; the heads pointed to a hair ; and 
 every feather plucked the second of a choice 
 grey goose pinion. Of all fletchers, give me 
 Hans Van Eche ; he is the man to make you an 
 arrow to hit the clout at four hundred yards. 
 I have," continued the gay PhiHp, as he shewed 
 I>u Bois his bow, with an air of uncommon 
 interest and satisfaction, '^ I have, too, as fine a 
 2 4
 
 232 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 long bow as even an English archer could desire ; 
 aye, and a cross bow besides, fit for a Genoese 
 count. The prizes to-day are a gold medallion, 
 a flagon of silver chased at Antwerp, with an 
 arrow of the like material, headed with gold. 
 And if an eye like a hawk, and a hand dextrous 
 and steady, can win a prize to give to thee, 
 Bianca, Von Artaveld will this day gain it." 
 
 " I doubt not your skill," replied Bianca, " to 
 win any prize you think worth the attempt, 
 were it of the highest order." 
 
 *' You are a little flatterer," said Von Arta- 
 veld, as he smiled, and looked pleased, upon 
 Bianca ; " but I will do my best. Are you for 
 the sports, Peter du Bois, or do you mean to 
 sit there all this goodly day, looking like a man 
 under penance, when there are young gallants, 
 strong bows, an open field, and fair eyes to wit- 
 ness the contest and the prize." 
 
 " I am for the field," replied Du Bois, " but 
 not for such sports as yours, Philip. But I pray 
 you give me but a short audience ere you depart '; 
 I have matter of moment for your ear." 
 
 "No doubt," said Von Artaveld, '' some of
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 233 
 
 your crazy schemes to root out old grievances, 
 in order to bring in new ones ; but I will hear 
 you. Bianca, how does this jerkin look? It is 
 made after the true fashion of a knight of 
 St. Sebastian — a bright green cloth, close and 
 trim, and the quiver hung right athwart the 
 back, that scholars may think upon a Cupid 
 when they see it. The cap smart, swaggering, 
 and debonair; the bracer well set, and every 
 tassel as it should be. Are the ?" 
 
 " I conjure you, Philip," said Peter, " give up 
 this vain mood, and hear me : let us talk like men." 
 
 '^' Why, so we do," replied Von Artaveld, 
 " when we speak of those braveries that chiefly 
 delight women. Your archer is nothing, unless 
 he is set in full trim to catch a bright eye, and 
 to win a soft heart. This bow is well bent," 
 he continued, again examining it, " and the 
 string of double-twisted silk, and the nock in 
 every arrow bound over with the same." And 
 then Von Artaveld raised his bow, drew the 
 string close up to his ear, and let it smartly loose, 
 as he sang again, 
 
 " The clout is struck, the prize is won," &c.
 
 234 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " Bianca, fairest," he added^ " you will be in 
 the field, and my bow shall make you the mis- 
 tress of the revels, for I am determined to win a 
 prize." 
 
 '' Aye, and a great one it shall be," answered 
 Bianca. " Philip, I conjure you to be serious, 
 and hear Du Bois ; time presses, and you must 
 soon be gone. You know what I have already 
 urged; hear Du Bois, then, I beseech you." 
 
 " I will, Bianca, I \^Tll," replied Von Arta- 
 veld, " so Peter will but leave that abominable, 
 snarling, doleful look of his, and speak like a 
 gentle squire of dames, and not with that croak- 
 ing tone, like some grieved monk who solicits 
 my lord abbot to eat butter during lent, lest oil 
 should turn upon his stomach." 
 
 " Nay, but hear him seriously," said Bianca ; 
 " you know not of how much importance may 
 be this one hour." 
 
 " I will hear him, then, with perfect gravity," 
 replied Von Artaveld, " to pleasure you, sweet ; 
 and rather than such a sad brow should appear 
 on the face of my Bianca, I would be serious 
 as death."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 235 
 
 " Aye, it is of death I would speak," said 
 Du Bois — " the death of our liberty. This day 
 is to seal the ruin of our ancient franchises. You 
 know what is already done; and in order to 
 prevent the possibility of the citizens guarding 
 their own rights, this festival is to be the last of 
 our archery ; for henceforth no man is to be 
 allowed to carry arms without a licence from 
 the court. It is shrewdly suspected that we are 
 indebted to Gilbert Matthew for the suggestion 
 of this measure." 
 
 At these words Von Artaveld started as from 
 a dream : all levity in a moment forsook his 
 countenance^ and he seemed another creature ; 
 for his follies were those of temper, they had no 
 connection with his understanding. His mind, 
 on the contrary, improved by education and a 
 habit of thinking for himself, (which he really 
 possessed, notwithstanding his light mood,) pro- 
 mised a character far beyond the ordinary race 
 of men, and one that emulated the energies of 
 his celebrated and deceased father. 
 
 " This would be indeed the death of liberty," 
 answered Von Artaveld; «' and it is such a
 
 236 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 shameless innovation of our dearest rights as 
 citizens, that every man, aye, every boy in 
 Ghent, who can but draw a bow-string, will let 
 fly an arrow, with a curse for its impetus, at the 
 head of Gilbert Matthew, rather than yield to 
 such dishonour. What ! are we slaves ? are we 
 beasts? that we must have our claws cut, lest 
 they should tear our masters, who worry, mis- 
 use, oppress us — and all in very wantonness. 
 I will join you." 
 
 '' Nay, now you are over-hasty," said Du 
 Bois. " Hear first what I would say, and then 
 choose your own course; we, the aggrieved 
 citizens of Ghent, at this moment want a leader 
 — one whose name shall rouse all hearts to 
 follow him; and your name, Philip, is Von 
 Artaveld ! Your father's spirit shall once more 
 breathe in you. It shall awake the slumbering 
 energies of this oppressed city — it shall stir up 
 our very children to resistance, so you will but 
 bear our banner, and call upon all men to save 
 their sinking country." 
 
 " I will," exclaimed Von Artaveld, with en- 
 thusiasm ; '« I will swear to do it. Ghent, my
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 237 
 
 birth-place, the nurse of my father's honour, 
 and the sad witness of his murder — Ghent 
 shall find that his son lives to revenge his death. 
 What would you more, Du Bois ? You look as 
 if still dissatisfied. Call me to a purpose of 
 energy — to one of noble bearing — the public 
 good our aim, with no dark passions and selfish 
 views to debase it : call me to this, and say, if 
 Philip would not freely sacrifice his life in the 
 cause, that he is unworthy the name of Von 
 Artaveld." 
 
 " You will add yet a greater glory to that 
 name," replied Peter, '^ and I am satisfied. I 
 have heard men say, that when an infant you 
 were carried to the church of St. Peter's in 
 Ghent to be baptized; that there the good Queen 
 Philippa, consort of Edward of England, stood 
 sponsor to you at the font ; and in compliment 
 to her you received the name by which you are 
 a Christian. I have heard, too, that whilst the 
 royal matron held you in her arms, you wept as 
 you looked up at the priest; but when Sir 
 Walter Woodland, to soothe you after a soldier's 
 fashion, held up the handle of his bright sword,
 
 238 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 you caught at it and laughed, and King Edward 
 swore ' by God's teeth, the boy would prove a 
 lusty soldier.'' You shall fulfil the royal pro- 
 phecy — you shall be our leader. The craft of 
 a chief may soon be learned, if you will but listen 
 to my advice — to my counsels." 
 
 '^ I need them not," said Philip, impatiently. 
 " 1 see the whole plan — it is to hold ourselves 
 in arms till we have obtained a redress of our 
 grievances, and a restoration of our franchises. 
 And if this is denied to us, to resist even to the 
 death. To remove from our lord^ the Earl of 
 Flanders, all his base favourites, and to give 
 him, with a set of new counsellors, a lesson how 
 to behave towards his citizens in time to come." 
 
 '' Nay, this is not all," replied Du Bois; 
 " you must learn how to govern the base multi- 
 tude you will lead on to t}\e work. No levity, 
 no follies — all should be stern and ruthless. 
 The mob must be ruled by fear ; can you be 
 cruel and proud ? for you will have to deal with 
 those who, like beasts of burthen, must be 
 driven with the goad. To render docile the 
 senseless herd, you must be their master as well 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 239 
 
 as their leader ; often renowned for cruelty, but 
 never suspected of weakness — such weakness as 
 men call mercy. It is thus our Flemish swine 
 must be ruled ; and the life of a man should be 
 no more valued than the swallow or the lark that 
 we slay for the spit." 
 
 " By my troth," answered Philip, "should 
 I need a tutor, you, Peter^ will prove one of a 
 most ready eloquence, to teach me the law of 
 ruling. However, all shall go well ; I will teach 
 the rascal mob to follow at my heels, as dogs 
 attend their master, or I will whip, hang, and 
 slay to thy hearts content. Oh, that I had but thy 
 countenance, Peter du Bois, to begin this trade 
 with ; it would save a hangman's fees, and kill 
 the varlets with the poison of a most villainous 
 aspect. Come, shall we forward to the field ? 
 I know thy friends, Peter, will be there. I am 
 prepared. Ghent shall have her freedom, or I 
 will find a grave. Farewell^ Bianca ; you will 
 be a witness of our sports. Stay, Peter, I had 
 forgot my new green mantle ; it is curiously cut 
 of the last French fashion, and falls gracefully 
 as I loose a shaft."
 
 240 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 And thus, in a strange and mixed mood of 
 extreme levity of manner, yet serious purpose of 
 action, Von Artaveld set off with Du Bois to 
 join the archers. Bianca, who, since her inter- 
 view with Ursula, had daily worked on his 
 mind to induce him to become a rebel, now 
 hastened to inform the sorceress of her success. 
 Ursula resolved that the brand thus lighted 
 should not be suffered to expire.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 241 
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 When Philip Von Artaveld and Peter du 
 Bois left the house of the former^ to join the 
 bands of archers who were preparing to set out 
 on their way towards the fields in which the 
 sports were held, they found the whole town 
 in commotion, and all the people eagerly 
 pressing forward, with that hilarity of spirit 
 which public exhibitions of this kind seldom fail 
 to excite. 
 
 The place appointed for the trial of skill in 
 the cross and long bow, was a large plain near 
 Ghent, which commanded a full view of the 
 city, surrounded by its massive walls, and rising 
 above them in clustered towers and spires. The 
 rivers Scheldt and Lis rolled silently on, reflect- 
 ing in their clear surface the passing cloud, or 
 here and there disturbed by the stately march of 
 some vessel of burthen, or by the light ripple of 
 the feathering oar, as the boats passed busily 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 242 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 along, freighted with the gallant concourse of 
 the young and the gay. 
 
 The usual tumult of a great commercial city 
 seemed this day to have sunk into repose, as the 
 gates of Ghent appeared to have poured out her 
 inhabitants in one torrent towards the plain. 
 All the companies of the different trades, headed 
 by their masters and deacons, walked in proces- 
 sion ; and Gilbert Matthew and his brothers 
 (who, at an early hour, had stationed themselves 
 in different parts to observe what was going for- 
 ward,) saw with dismay that nearly all these men 
 were armed — a thing the more extraordinary 
 on account of their being chiefly mechanics, who 
 were seldom known to accustom themselves to 
 the use of any weapon. Gilbert immediately 
 sent intelligence of this circumstance to Lewis 
 de Male, and begged him to abstain from the 
 sports, lest these symptoms of preparation for 
 assault should augur danger to his person; for as 
 Gilbert depended entirely upon the Earl for 
 the continuance of his own prosperity, he was 
 cautious to keep all danger as far as possible 
 from the person of his prince.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 243 
 
 A mound of earth, upon which was elevated 
 a sort of platform of wood, stood in the centre 
 of the plain^ and upon this platform a shaft was 
 also elevated, by some skilfully adjusted scaffold- 
 ing, to a height equal to that of the steeple of 
 the cathedral. Upon the very top of this shaft 
 was affixed a bird, carved in wood, to transfix 
 which was to gain the chief prize of the day. 
 The mound was also covered with various other 
 shafts; these were lower in height than that 
 already mentioned, but each had a wooden bird 
 fixed at the top^ and each was to confer some 
 prize upon the archer who struck it. 
 
 On the opposite side of the plain, near the 
 spot where the archers took their stand, appeared 
 three pavilions, or tents, of crimson silk, em- 
 broidered and fringed with gold, bearing on their 
 fronts the arms of Flanders (a sable lion langue 
 d'or,) richly worked upon a ground of blue and 
 silver. Within the centre pavilion was placed^ 
 under a canopy, the chief prizes of the day — 
 a gold medallion, a silver flagon, and an arrow 
 of the same metal. The tent was left open in 
 front, that these prizes should be seen by the 
 r2
 
 244 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 people. The other two pavilions contained the 
 minor prizes, such as small medallions, bows 
 and arrows^ &c. All these tents were appro- 
 priated to the use of the Earl of Flanders, his 
 principal attendants, and his court ; but on this 
 day, in consequence of the information received 
 from Gilbert Matthew, neither the Earl nor his 
 chief courtiers appeared, a circumstance that 
 added to the universal discontent of the asforrieved 
 party ; since, ripe to take offence from every 
 occurrence, they construed it into a mistrust of 
 their good faith, and an indifference shewn 
 towards their skill in arms, and their amuse- 
 ments. 
 
 Near the tents spacious galleries had been 
 constructed. These were gaily decorated with 
 tapestry of the finest work ; for the looms of 
 Flanders, at the period of our narrative, were 
 unrivalled in the beauty and excellence of their 
 manufacture. Below the galleries, the heralds, 
 the minstrels, and the trumpeters, took their 
 stand. And at intervals, between the occupation 
 of the sports, the minstrels played lively airs — 
 whilst the trumpets alone announced the appear-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 245 
 
 ance of a new candidate for the prize, and blew 
 the shout of triumph whenever his aim was 
 crowned with success. 
 
 The galleries were filled with ladies, dressed 
 in all the costly and gorgeous attire the wives 
 and daughters of the wealthy citizens of Ghent 
 were so fond of displaying. Jewels and gold 
 hung as thickly about their heads, their arms, 
 and necks, as icicles hang sparkling about the 
 boughs upon a frosty morning. On the back 
 rows of the galleries were seated those citizens 
 who, by age, or inaptitude to martial sports, 
 were rendered unfit to share actively in the 
 amusements of the day. These citizens were 
 now present merely as spectators; and whilst 
 they looked upon the gay throng assembled 
 around_5 many an eye of pride did they cast upon 
 the banner of their own city, which, formed of 
 silk, and embroidered entirely with gold and 
 pearls, hung streaming in the air above their 
 heads. 
 
 With the conspirators, this day was marked 
 as one of fearful import. They had been inde- 
 fatigable in the arrangement of their plans. 
 R 3
 
 246 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Day and night had the leaders toiled in their 
 exertions ; and a general understanding, a gene- 
 ral agreement, had taken place, that upon this 
 day they would strike the blow; upon this day 
 they would rouse all hearts, and animate all 
 feelings, to procure the redress of their griev- 
 ances, and the subversion of the present state of 
 things : so that many who had hitherto continued 
 neuter, or only wavering between submission 
 or insurrection, should, in spite of themselves, 
 be forced to take some active part. 
 
 Such was the concerted plot, yet it was far- 
 ther arranged, that, if possible, no blood was 
 on this day to be shed ; a contest was not to 
 take place by way of arms, till intimidation had 
 failed of success, or till the more wealthy 
 burghers had so mixed themselves up with the 
 acts of the malcontents, that they should be 
 driven on to desperate measures for their own 
 security. These plans had been digested and 
 agreed to by all the chief insurgents, and the 
 more willingly, as it was thought prudent not 
 violently to shock, at the first onset, the feelings 
 of the more moderate and merciful of their party.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 247 
 
 John Lyon^ Peter du Bois, Arnoul le Clerc, 
 La Nuitee, and other leaders, had directed their 
 several parties to come into the field in armed 
 companies, by hundreds, and fifties together. 
 All the mechanics of the different trades, who 
 had any share in the general discontent, were 
 also privately directed to come armed, some on 
 pretence of the field sports, but far the greater 
 number as men who resolved to adhere to their 
 old franchises, and to wear arms whenever they 
 thought proper to do so, for their own defence. 
 
 These orders were punctually obeyed ; and 
 Gilbert Matthew and his brothers, notwith- 
 standing they knew of discontented parties in 
 the city, till now had no idea of their number 
 and extent, when they appeared at once pub- 
 licly, and with a gravity and resolution imprinted 
 on each countenance, sufficient to alarm the 
 deacon and his friends. The brothers looked 
 with dismay upon each other, yet, conscious that 
 if any ill were particularly aimed against them- 
 selveSj flight would now be vain, since the field 
 was covered on all sides with these people, they 
 resolved to dissemble all suspicion, and to act 
 R 4
 
 248 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 with the frankness of men who rely upon the 
 good faith of their neighbours, trusting that 
 neither the Earl nor the court would venture 
 unprepared into a scene that threatened so much 
 danger. The dark and angry appearance that 
 surrounded them might indeed be compared to 
 a mass of black and heavy thunder clouds^ which, 
 although not a drop of rain falls, nor a sound is 
 heard to whisper around to disturb the air, yet 
 threatens every moment a violent combustion. 
 
 Such was the state of things when the young 
 men forming the two chosen bands of archers, 
 called^ by way of distinction^ the Knights of 
 St. George, and of St. Sebastian, entered the 
 plain, in order to form into a regular line on 
 either side of the pavilions. The knights of 
 St. George (so called, originally, after the tute- 
 lary saint of England, as a compliment to 
 Edward the Third during the time he visited 
 Ghent,) were gaily attired in bright scarlet 
 cloth, each man wearing a plume of white fea- 
 thers in his archer's cap, and having around his 
 neck a gold chain and medallion ; upon the latter 
 the battle of the saint with the dragon was
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 249 
 
 represented in high relief. Their quivers, gaily 
 covered with embroidered silk, hung upon their 
 shoulders ; and each bore a long or a cross bow 
 (according to liis skill in either weapon) in his 
 hand. The herald of the band walked before 
 them, displaying their embroidered banner, and 
 followed by minstrels and trumpets, that made 
 all the plain ring with their loud harmony. 
 
 The knights of St. Sebastian were attired in 
 green, and wore also a medallion, with their 
 saint represented upon it, transfixed with arrows. 
 This band was headed by Philip Von Artaveld, 
 whose high and martial spirit, and excellence in 
 arms, had rendered him exceedingly popular 
 with all the young men of Ghent. 
 
 It may well be supposed that the appearance 
 of two such companies of archers, all picked 
 and chosen for their skill and agility, the very 
 flower of the youth of the city, was calculated to 
 produce a feeling of universal interest, as they 
 marched forward, their looks animated with the 
 fervour of hope and emulation, and their steps 
 measured to the sounds of music. 
 
 Yet on the present occasion, there was such
 
 250 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 an universal chill, such a feeling of general 
 interest of a more vital character, such a sense 
 of suppressed expectation, that had been excited 
 in the bosoms of all present by the formidable 
 appearance of the armed bodies, headed by the 
 conspirators, that the sports seemed to be scarcely 
 a matter of interest ; and the shouts of universal 
 greeting, which at any other period would have 
 shook the vault of Heaven, as these gallant bands 
 appeared, now burst but partially forth, and 
 soon died away in low murmurs. ^' It is well 
 it should be so," said Peter du Bois to Von 
 Artaveld, who noticed this want of the usual 
 acclamations. " Since this is to be the last 
 festival of archery, since our sports are to be put 
 down, till it pleases the court to give us leave 
 again to draw a bow, we ought not to expect 
 rejoicing and acclamations over our expiring 
 honour ; and this day is marked for the death of 
 our archery." 
 
 *' It shall be first marked with my own death," 
 replied Von Artaveld, in a whisper, to Du Bois ; 
 " I can bear much as a citizen, rather than dis- 
 turb public tranquillity, but there is a point
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 251 
 
 beyond which no man ought to use forbearance. 
 We will never tamely witness the death of our 
 franchises, one by one, till we have lost them all, 
 and are reduced to slaves. But come — our men 
 prepare for the sports ; if this is to be the last 
 of them^ at least we will shew, that if they allow 
 us not the bird for the bolt, we know how to 
 aim surely^ and at better marks, if they provoke 
 us." 
 
 The young men now severally stood forward 
 to display their skill in archery. These princi- 
 pally consisted of the knights of St. George and 
 St. Sebastian, but others, not belonging to either 
 party, were allowed to mingle with the sports, 
 and to loose a shaft, although few availed them- 
 selves of the indulgence, since all the most skilful 
 had enrolled themselves in one or other of these 
 celebrated bands ; and it was rarely seen that 
 any youth had the hardihood, or the skilly to 
 venture rivalry with such practised bowmen. 
 So excellent, indeed, was their skilly that scarcely 
 was there an archer of St. George, or St. Sebas- 
 tian, but he struck a bird on the lower shafts, 
 for the highest was yet unattempted ; and though
 
 252 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 all would have rejoiced to strike it, and thus to 
 gain the chief prize^ yet the fear of failure 
 deterred many from the attempt, so that the 
 contest seemed reserved for a few of the most 
 experienced on either side. 
 
 To strike the bird fixed on the highest shaft 
 was an honour that conferred upon the success- 
 ful candidate the rank of master of the festival ; 
 and he was treated with a deference due to a 
 victor during the rest of the day, heading the 
 procession on its return to Ghent, and offering 
 up public thanks for his success at the high altar 
 of St. Bavon, where he heard mass, and paid 
 his duty, attended by all the archers of the dif- 
 ferent companies, before he proceeded to the 
 town-hall, to receive the prize, which was pub- 
 licly conferred upon him, accompanied with the 
 most interesting ceremonies. These were cir- 
 cumstances of honour sufficient to raise emulation 
 in every youthful breast, and had greatly contri- 
 buted towards that eager desire for excellence in 
 archery, which so much distinguished the young 
 men of Ghent. 
 
 Peter du Bois now took his station to try for
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 253 
 
 the first prize, and' the trumpet sounded as he 
 prepared to shoot. Peter slowly and deliberately 
 aimed at the mark before him, held the arrow 
 some time in his hand when drawn to the head, 
 and let it hang upon the bow-string before it 
 made its swift flight through the air. The shaft 
 failed of striking the bird, yet it passed within a 
 quarter of a yard's breadth of the mark. No 
 trumpet sounded, for Peter was unsuccessful. 
 
 ^' Come," said Von Artaveld, '' now give 
 place to me. That shaft failed because you 
 looked at the head of the arrow instead of the 
 mark, when you took your aim. I will teach 
 you better, Peter." 
 
 ^« Stay, Philip Von Artaveld," exclaimed a 
 citizen, who acted as marshal of the bowmen, 
 " stay, you must not loose a shaft yet, since 
 your superiors are come into the field. Here is 
 Sir Walter d'Anghien, and two or three others 
 of the court ; they are this moment arrived^ and 
 would try their fortunes. Let them shoot first." 
 
 '^ They shall not, by St. Sebastian, whose 
 badge I wear ; they shall not," cried the youth, 
 with much warmth. « They are late comers;
 
 254 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 and better would it be had they not come at all^ 
 since their lord^ the Earl of Flanders, disdains 
 us and our sports. He does not visit the field, 
 and why should any of his court step in^ and 
 think to carry off the prize from us who are 
 citizens, and despised by them ? It is my turn 
 to loose an arrow; and, by all the saints of 
 Heaven, if any one dares to intercept my right, 
 the shaft shall have other aim than yonder 
 bird." 
 
 So saying, Von Artaveld lost not a moment to 
 make good his claim ; he instantly stept forward, 
 stood firmly and uprightly, raised the bow^ fixed 
 the shaft, and then drew the bow-string quite up 
 to his ear, and the arrow to its head, looked for 
 a moment stedfastly at the mark, and smartly 
 letting slip the shaft, by withdrawing his 
 fingers, it whizzed through the air with such 
 velocity that the eye could not keep pace with 
 its flighty struck the bird, and remained fixed in 
 the mark. The trumpet instantly sounded, and 
 loud and reiterated shouts from the knights of 
 St. Sebastian proclaimed the triumph of their 
 party.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 255 
 
 Sir Walter d'Anghien, a fine young man, 
 who was both the nephew and the ward of the 
 Earl of Flanders, now advanced, desirous to 
 take some share in the sports, and to loose a 
 shaft. But murmurs arose on every side as he 
 approached, not from any personal enmity 
 towards himself, for he was yet scarcely known 
 to the people of Ghent, but the circumstance of 
 his belonging to the courts and his near kindred 
 to the Earl, at this moment rendered him 
 obnoxious to the people ; who^ glad of an oppor- 
 tunity to shew how much they resented the sup- 
 posed affront Lewis de Male had put upon 
 them, by absenting himself from the sports, now 
 were unanimous in treating with contempt one 
 of the EarFs family and court. 
 
 The leaders of the disaffected bands observed 
 this with secret exultation^ and they hailed the 
 murmurs of disrespect vented agaiiist Sir Walter 
 d'Anghien as the proper signal to begin their 
 intended disturbance. Peter du Bois hastened 
 to join John Lyon, and whispered to him, 
 ^« Now, now, let us forward to the work — all is 
 ready — our men will join the cry, and this field
 
 256 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 of sports we will turn to one of confusion. Re- 
 member the charge we are to make against the 
 court; Sir Walter is here — let us begin by 
 turning the tide of wrath against him." 
 
 " Forward then," answered John Lyon ; " all 
 is indeed prepared, and our measures will take 
 every one by surprise — they will intimidate 
 our enemies; for after what we have already 
 done, we must drive it on to extremities. Peace, 
 however sealed, would spare neither your head 
 nor mine, Peter ; we have done too much for that 
 already." 
 
 " On, then, in the deviPs name," said Du 
 Bois ; and turning to his own band, he con- 
 tinued, " Follow me, my masters, for you all 
 know I lead you on that you may all find 
 justice." Without farther parley, he snatched 
 up a bugle that hung at his breast, blew thrice a 
 shrill blast, which was echoed and answered in 
 like manner by the bugles of all the captains 
 and leaders of the insurgents. This was the 
 signal, and in a few minutes all their bands 
 rushed forward. " Seize them, seize Sir Walter 
 d'Anghien and the Matdiews," exclaimed Du
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 257 
 
 Bois; ^' they come, my fellow-citizens, deputed 
 by the Earl of Flanders, to put down your 
 ancient sports — to proclaim that henceforth no 
 man of Ghent shall carry arms, even for his own 
 defence, save by a licence from the court. Will 
 you suffer this? Will you thus tamely yield 
 franchise after franchise, till your liberties are 
 lost for ever ?" 
 
 " Never, never," shouted a thousand voices at 
 once ; "we will have our franchises — we will 
 be righted." ^'^ Down with the Matthews ; no 
 innovations." " Restore our citizen; we will 
 have him from the Earl's prison." " We will 
 have our rights." " We will avenge our wrongs." 
 These and a thousand other tumultuous shouts 
 burst from all sides at once. 
 
 The leaders of the insurgents each addressed 
 various companies of the citizens^ in different 
 parts of the field, stirring up their minds to vio- 
 lence and rebellion. Sir Walter d'Anghien, 
 his companions, and the Matthews^ were sud- 
 denly assaulted by Du Bois's band ; and seeing 
 how vain would be all opposition against such 
 
 VOL. I. s
 
 258 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 numbers, they could do nothing but submit in 
 silence. 
 
 In the mean time^ John Lyon, Arnoul le 
 Clerc, and others, hastened from place to place 
 in the field, using every argument to inflame the 
 minds of the people; and especially setting 
 before them, in the worst light, ^the breach of 
 their liberties, by the Earl's detaining in prison 
 one of their own citizens. Sir Simon de Bete, 
 an act contrary to law, unless sanctioned by their 
 own warrant. The purposed suppression of the 
 sports, the impost on the pilots, the tax on the 
 navigation of the Scheldt, with every cause of 
 offence, real or supposed, was at this moment 
 brought forward to stir up the assembled multi- 
 tude to open rebellion. 
 
 The train had been already long prepared, 
 and now that the match was laid to it, the fire 
 ran swiftly through the whole line, and exploded 
 in a violent and general conflagration; for 
 such a train had been the machinations of the 
 artful Du Bois. The citizens shouted for 
 redress, they hailed the leaders of the insurgents 
 6
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 259 
 
 with heart and soul, some shook them by the 
 hand, others greeted them as the deliverers of 
 their country, all were unanimous in support of 
 their cause. The mob joined the general cry. 
 The different trades rallied round their banners, 
 and as they waved backwards and forwards in 
 the air, declared their willingness to die under 
 them, or to regain their rights. The mariners 
 and pilots hailed their old deacon, and once 
 more declared for John Lyon^ avowing they 
 would no longer pay imposts to Gilbert Matthew 
 or his brethren. 
 
 To describe the universal tumult^ which at 
 this moment prevailed^ throughout an extensive 
 plain where thousands were assembled, would 
 be impossible : it had now risen to such a height 
 that every one spoke or shouted, whilst no one 
 listened ; and a mingled uproar of sounds, that 
 resembled a chaos of noise from violent spirits, 
 broke loose from the depths of perdition, and 
 contending for the mastery, alone indicated that 
 the purpose of insurrection was now universal. 
 
 In vain did the leaders endeavour to procure 
 silence to address the people, till Peter du Bois, 
 s 2
 
 260 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 after shouting till he was hoarse, alternately 
 begging and commanding attention, at length so 
 far succeeded as to be able to make the citizens 
 and insurgents comprehend, that whatever mea- 
 sures they might wish to adopt, it was absolutely 
 necessary they should first begin by the election 
 of a chief, who would guide them on with 
 courage and wisdom to recover their franchises 
 and establish their liberty. 
 
 Scarcely had he done speaking, when a voice, 
 elevated with passion, loud and discordant in its 
 tones, burst from the multitude, crying, '^ A 
 chief! a chief! aye, your ancient chief. Von 
 Artaveld ! His spirit lives, moves, still breathes 
 in his son^ Von Artaveld, Von Artaveld." At 
 these words^ a woman rushed forward ; and 
 holding a white hood extended in one hand, and 
 a large knife brandished in the other^ Ursula 
 stood in view of the multitude. 
 
 Thousands looked upon her sudden presence, 
 and the prophetic tone in which she pro- 
 nounced the name of Von Artaveld, as an 
 augury of high import — as the voice of destiny 
 proclaiming a chief. With the lower orders
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 261 
 
 the presence of Ursula had a pecuHar influence ; 
 they beheld her with fear, but such a fear as 
 carried with it the most absolute belief of her 
 supernatural powers, and entire submission to 
 her authority. The leaders of the insurgents^ 
 who before suspected^ and now witnessed what 
 a powerful effect her presence would produce to 
 assist their cause, encouraged the impression she 
 made upon the multitude^ and assuming an air 
 of the most absolute attention, appeared ready 
 to obey her behests. 
 
 Ursula, at this moment, had placed herself 
 upon that platform, near the pavilions that had 
 been raised for the archers, from which they had 
 aimed at the mark. Philip Von Artaveld was 
 still upon the spot. Ursula now stood in a firm 
 and raised attitude ; her hair streaming in the 
 wind; her looks wild, disordered, and enthu- 
 siastic ; whilst her eye gazed upwards, fixed on 
 the vacant space, as if contemplating something 
 beyond the vision of mere mortal creatures. 
 She raised her arm, extended the white hood, 
 and, in a voice of deep intonation, assumed her 
 prophetic strain. " To thee, to thee. Von 
 s 3
 
 262 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Artaveld^ thy father's spirit descends ; he calls 
 thee to follow his footsteps; he calls thee to 
 deliver thy country. And be this,^* she said, as 
 she placed the white hood upon the head of Von 
 Artaveld; " be this the ensign of your cause. 
 The white hood that was cursed^ shall curse the 
 prince who scorned it. Let not a man of you 
 grasp a dagger, or draw a sword, till a white 
 hood covers his brow. For it is Ursula, the 
 prophetess — Ursula, the sovereign of the ele- 
 ments, the mistress of spirits — she who can 
 move upon the floods, or sail along the air; 
 Ursula, who can ope the book of fate, though 
 hidden in the lowest depths of hell ; it is she 
 who now unfolds that dark and terrible volume, 
 to tell you that the white hood shall prevail — 
 the white hood shall be the restorer of your 
 liberties, pure and free from stain, as its own 
 unblemished hue, whilst it covers the heads of 
 your oppressors with the blood of tyrants. Ye 
 men of Ghent, then lift up your voice with one 
 accord, and let your cry be Von Artaveld ! The 
 White Hoods for liberty ! the White Hoods for 
 Ghent !
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 263 
 
 The multitude in an instant caught the spirit 
 of enthusiasm which her wild eloquence diffused 
 around, and " The White Hoods for Von Arta- 
 veld!" "The White Hoods for liberty!" ^« The 
 White Hoods for Ghent !" was shouted, echoed, 
 and repeated from mouth to mouth, and band 
 to band. 
 
 Whilst Ursula addressed the crowd, and 
 whilst their thundering exclamations still rent the 
 air in reiterated clamour, several persons pre- 
 pared for the occasion came forward, and, as in 
 a moment, a thousand white hoods were distri- 
 buted amongst the parties of the chief insurgents, 
 and others of the discontented citizens, who now 
 openly joined them. And this their sudden 
 distribution was devoutly attributed by the 
 vulgar to a miracle, wrought by the supernatural 
 power of Ursula. But the artful plan of the 
 hag, supported and carried on by the connivance 
 of her employer, Peter du Bois, may sufficiently 
 account for the miracle of the white hoods. It 
 had been the aim of Du Bois, that some peculiar 
 mark of distinction should be worn as the uni- 
 form badge of his mixed followers, in order to 
 render their persons so known and conspicuous, 
 s4
 
 264 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 that the danger to themselves^ of deserting his 
 cause, would outweigh that of adhering to it. 
 All the necessary preparations, therefore, for 
 thus distributing the white hoods, had been pre- 
 viously made at no small expence, and with the 
 utmost diligence and secrecy. 
 
 When the tumult had in some measure sub- 
 sided from its first loud burst, the knights of 
 St. Sebastian, delighted that in the election of a 
 chief the choice had fallen upon their own cap- 
 tain, Philip Von Artaveld, now hailed him as 
 their leader in the public cause, and, with un- 
 feigned joy, promised to support him at all times 
 and through all dangers. Philip essayed to 
 speak, but it was some time before he could 
 obtain a hearing ; for the murmurs and accla- 
 mations of the multitude still continued, whilst 
 the bands of the insurgents, like the restless 
 billows of the ocean, moved backward and for- 
 ward with unceasing agitation, as the enthusiasm 
 of party spirit rose or fell. 
 
 Philip, at length, succeeded in obtaining 
 attention, and having previously called to his 
 side the Lord de Harzelle, who held a high 
 office in Ghent, and John de Faucille, a prudent
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 265 
 
 and wealthy citizen, he thus addressed the 
 people; '' Citizens, you have this day chosen me 
 as your chief, from the honour and affection in 
 which you hold the memory of my father^ who_, 
 you are all unanimous in avowing, devoted 
 himself to the good of your city, raised yom* 
 opulence, and confirmed your franchises. You 
 expect much from me, my fellow-citizens, who 
 have neither his judgment, nor his experience, 
 to steer the public bark through a sea so tempes- 
 tuous as that of these stormy times. My father 
 saved you all from sinking in a like peril, and 
 you requited the debt by murdering him ! 
 What then will be my security, should I accept 
 the rule you now offer me ? If my father's fate 
 is to be mine, it will be but a miserable recom- 
 pence." 
 
 *^' No, no, you are safe — you are secure — 
 your father was allied with England. He gave 
 our revenues to King Edward; but you are 
 safe. Your father was murdered by a party, by 
 a traitor." These expressions burst forth from 
 several who stood near Von Artaveld. He 
 resumed his address : —
 
 266 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 ^' I do accept the election. You have named 
 me to be your chief — I accept it, not from 
 private motives, or any desire of personal ad- 
 vancement, but from the love I bear my native 
 city^ and from a wish that the opulence and 
 liberties my father secured to her with so much 
 labour, and sealed with his death^ should not 
 be lost for the want of a chief who will maintain 
 your franchises. But I demand a council to 
 act with me." 
 
 ^' You shall have a council," said Peter du 
 Bois ; ^' a council composed of the leaders of our 
 people, and the principal citizens, and you shall 
 propose our first measure." 
 
 '^ Let it be one of reason, justice, and mode- 
 ration," replied Von Artaveld ; ^* let it " 
 
 <^ Who talks of moderation ?" exclaimed 
 Ursula, as she once more stept forward on the 
 platform. " Is it you. Von Artaveld ? when 
 these eyes of mine^ but yesterday, beheld the 
 most accursed sight they ever looked upon — a 
 thing that threatens the total ruin of your city. 
 For but yesterday did I behold the people of 
 Bruges toiling at that work which is to turn the
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 261 
 
 course of the river Lis from your good town of 
 Ghent, to ruin all your commerce." 
 
 This intelligence, that the canal at Bruges 
 was actually begun, spread like wildfire_, and 
 once more roused the people to madness. They 
 would have instant redress ; they would march 
 in a body towards Bruges, and the first act of 
 the Wliite Hoods should be to destroy the work, 
 even though in so doing they destroyed the 
 workers. Philip Von Artaveld again addressed 
 the multitude. 
 
 " My fellow-citizens," he exclaimed, ^« I am 
 chosen by you as your chief, and for your advan- 
 tage I am to act in concert with your leaders. 
 I am ready to do all that is necessary, and all 
 that is daring, to obtain the redress of your griev- 
 ances ; but let me counsel you before you resort 
 to hostile measures, before you shed the blood of 
 those who, born in the same land, are ruled by 
 the same prince as yourselves, before you com- 
 mence a bloody war upon your country, I con- 
 jure you to hear my proposal. Let an honour- 
 able deputation, composed of such persons as- 
 you choose to name, wait upon the Earl ; let
 
 268 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 our clerks, learned in the laws, and our citizens, 
 valiant in supporting them, — let them represent 
 to Lewis de Male all our grievances^ and demand 
 redress. And, as a pledge of the Earl's good 
 faith towards Ghent, let them solicit him to- 
 bring back with them Sir Simon de Bete, who 
 now lies a prisoner at Ecclo." 
 
 <« Von Artaveld has spoken well ; we will 
 have it so ; he shall head the deputation. Let 
 the Earl give up our citizen ; we will have him 
 out of prison." These and many other excla- 
 mations again burst from the surrounding 
 crowd. 
 
 " In the mean time, my friends," continued 
 Von Artaveld, " I, as your chief, command that 
 Sir Walter d'Anghien and his companions, 
 against whom vve have no charge, be set at 
 liberty. Sir Walter has not injured us, nor 
 can he in reason be responsible for the conduct 
 of his uncle ; and you have no right to detain 
 him as a hostage, till you are driven to com- 
 mence a war by a refusal of redress. Sir Walter, 
 you and your noble friends are free to return 
 to Andrighien. Our knights of St. Sebastian
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 269 
 
 shall conduct you thither in safety, if you need 
 an escort. For you, Gilbert Matthew, and your 
 brothers, our citizens, in a fitting time and place, 
 have much to charge against you all, but you 
 must also be liberated. Von Artaveld will suffer 
 no prisoners to be made of unarmed men. nor 
 of any but such as may be ours in war^ if all our 
 efforts to obtain redress should fail us." 
 
 This proposal was loudly seconded by John 
 de Faucille^ the lord of Harzelle, and several of 
 the more respectable class of citizens. Even the 
 artful leaders of the insurgents could find no 
 just pretext to oppose against it. Von Artaveld 
 was accordingly named as the head of the depu- 
 tation to wait upon the Earl. Peter du Bois 
 and John Lyon, who caught at every opportunity 
 to mortify and embroil the Matthews in difficul- 
 ties, now artfully proposed, that as Gilbert 
 Matthew, and his brother Stephen, were both 
 citizens of Ghent by birth, they should also join 
 in the deputation. In their present situation 
 Du Bois well knew they dared not refuse ; and 
 he proposed the measure with a view that^ in 
 in case an answer should be returned of an
 
 210 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 offensive nature from the Earl, he might seize 
 the occasion for throwing the blame of misma- 
 nagement upon Gilbert Matthew — a circum- 
 stance that, in all probability, would render the 
 new deacon alike obnoxious to his master and to 
 the people. All was now arranged ; and Philip 
 Von Artaveld, instead of returning as victor of 
 the archers into Ghent, set off, at the head of the 
 deputation, to wait upon the Earl of Flanders 
 at Andrighien. 
 
 John Lyon and Peter du Bois, desirous of a 
 private conference, returned with their bands 
 towards the city. The mob now began to dis- 
 perse, and the graver and elder class of citizens 
 walked, alarmed and discontented, towards their 
 own homes ; whilst the different leaders and 
 captains of the White Hoods, having received 
 their secret orders from Du Bois, commanded 
 that their men should be held in such a state of 
 preparation that they might be ready for action 
 at a moment's notice. 
 
 In a few hours the plain was completely 
 cleared of the multitude ; but still, here and 
 there, were seen stragglers who lingered near it,
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 271 
 
 anxious for the return of the deputation. The 
 streets of Ghent, which in general exhibited 
 groups of people busied in commerce^ as they 
 thronged and jostled each other, each individual 
 intent upon some personal duty or concern, now 
 presented a very different aspect to the stirring 
 occupations of traffic. Here were men seen 
 strolling up and down with arms in their hands, 
 a feeling of stern expectation imprinted on each 
 countenance. At times they spoke together in 
 an earnest, but mysterious, manner. And else- 
 where might be observed other citizens collected 
 into small parties — some vehemently talking, 
 whilst their neighbours only listened, and shrug- 
 ged up their shoulders in silence. Even the 
 idle were now active, but for mischief; and the 
 very women joined the mob, and, casting off all 
 the decorum of their sex, railed louder than the 
 men against the times, and helped to stir up 
 rebellion. 
 
 The shops of armourers, smiths, and fletchers, 
 were literally thronged with people desirous to 
 provide themselves with arms, either to join the 
 insurrection, or to guard their own property
 
 272 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 against its violent effects. Some houses were 
 closed up, whilst others were opened ; and every 
 hotel in Ghent was crowded with persons who 
 came to hear the news, or to learn what had 
 passed, or to settle what was to be done : in 
 short, each man to talk politics more boldly than 
 he had dared to do of late, and each to settle 
 public affairs after his own way. 
 
 It may well be supposed that this was a busy 
 time with Martha Van Dredgger, and her hus- 
 band Gerard^ the host and hostess of the Moon, 
 whose common hall was now filled to overflow, 
 with citizens, mechanics, and artisans, of all 
 descriptions, besides divers of the more important 
 members of the White Hoods. '^ Here !" cried 
 Gerard^ " here ! a flagon of the best ale for 
 Peter la Nuitee, the captain of the worshipful 
 company of the glass-men." " A stool there, for 
 Master Vanderblast, banner-bearer of the same." 
 " And do ye hear, wife ! bring a trencher and a 
 knife for David Oxhead, the butcher, one of our 
 strongest supporters of liberty, who will knock 
 you down a courtier like a calf, if he dare but 
 touch so much as the tip of the horn of a fran-
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 273 
 
 chise. Worthy citizens !" continued the host, 
 who, like most men of his calling, constantly 
 chimed in with the popular feeling of his guests, 
 " worthy citizens ! I drink this cup to the suc- 
 cess of the White Hoods of Ghent; fill up to 
 the brim, and drink to me the same." 
 
 This example was eagerly followed by the 
 guests, and " Success to the White Hoods of 
 Ghent !" echoed through the apartment, as they 
 roared it out with much spirit and good will ; 
 and Gerard lost no time in chalking up the 
 score of flagons that had washed it down their 
 throats. Gerard now determined that the spirits 
 of his guests should not expire for want of fuel 
 to keep them in a blaze : he bustled every where, 
 and set the drawers at full work, whilst his par- 
 ticular instructions were reserved for the ear of 
 his no less bustling little spouse. *' Here, wife ! 
 here, Martha !" said he, " run down to the 
 cellars, and tell the boys to broach all the casks 
 of stale beer ; the citizens are getting warm ; 
 Vanderblast is making them a speech ; they are 
 all so hot-headed and dry-mouthed, that bad 
 beer will go down as well as the best, and we 
 
 VOL. I. T
 
 374 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 shall get cleared of the old stock. And do you 
 mix the sour wine with the clary ; they will never 
 find it out ; they talk so much about the sweets 
 of liberty, that it would be strange^ indeed^ if it 
 did not sweeten their cups. Brisk^ brisk, I say ; 
 go and do as I bid you ; I must be stirring here. 
 Save us, all the saints ! how Vanderblast gets 
 on ; he talks like a judge in any court, and 
 shouts out speeches like an ass braying against 
 rainy weather ! Well, these are strange times ; 
 every one to his business, and mine is to make 
 the most of them." 
 
 Vanderblast, already known to the reader 
 as having acted in the capacity of the city watch 
 on the night of the arrest of Sir Simon de Bete, 
 was, indeed, at this moment exerting all the 
 powers of his eloquence in laying down the law, 
 and in asserting the justice of the cause he had 
 so warmly espoused. Timothy Vanderblast had 
 long been the oracle of the ale-bench at the 
 Moon ; and to a most insufferable conceit of his 
 own wisdom, he united an attempt at a style of 
 discourse superior to his station, a piece of pre- 
 sumption he had originally contracted by having, 
 4
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 275 
 
 in early life, acted as turn-spit in the kitchens of 
 the public college at Liege, before he was pro- 
 moted to the station of a glassman's apprentice 
 at Ghent, for which promotion he quitted his 
 former honourable employ in the service of that 
 learned body. But Timothy brought to Ghent 
 all the learning he could pick up second-hand 
 from the varlets of the students at Liege ; when 
 upon his migration to this city, his abuse of hard 
 words, and constant habit of talking about what 
 he did not understand, procured for him the 
 pre-eminence above noticed. On the present 
 occasion his oracular wisdom had displayed itself 
 in a speech, as his auditory of mechanics and 
 apprentices sat gazing, open-mouthed, in silent 
 astonishment, around him. 
 
 At length David Oxhead, the butcher, 
 declared, as he gave Vanderblast a hearty slap 
 on the back, " By the blessed Saint Nicholas ! 
 brother Timothy, you have made as good a 
 speech as the Earl himself could have done, had 
 he turned rebel to upset his own rule ; and I say 
 that Master Vanderblast shall be voted spokes- 
 T 2
 
 276 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 man of the company, for he has a throat hke a 
 bull, and a heart like an ox." 
 
 '^ And the brains of a calf," said Gerard, with 
 a chuckle^ for he loved to pop in a bit of his 
 own wit. 
 
 *' I thank you, neighbour/' replied Vander- 
 blast to Oxhead, '« I thank you for your good 
 will. You are pleased to say so of me ; and I 
 believe that I may have some trick of the schools, 
 for I can write my name, or blow a glass bottle, 
 with any man in Ghent. And as for the arts, 
 my mother used to say that when I was a boy, I 
 sucked them in like mother's milk, so that I 
 could count from one to fourscore before I was 
 fourteen years old, which made me take my 
 manhood a year before the usual time.* And 
 for the sciences, I was always specially fond of 
 the law." 
 
 " Well," said Jeremy Von Stitchen, a jerkin 
 maker of Ghent, " I say it, and I don't care who 
 
 * When the son of a burgher above twelve years of age 
 could count from one to fourscore, he was considered old 
 enough for commerce, and said to take his manhood.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 277 
 
 knows it, that Master Vanderblast can give 
 reasons for things as well as a priest. And as 
 I, to be a neighbourly man and a good citizen, 
 would not desert my fellows, but am willing to 
 join the rebellion in a peaceable way, I should 
 like to know reasons for what we are going to 
 fight about ; and therefore, as I hear it is to hold 
 up the liberty of the franchises of Ghent, be 
 so good. Master Vanderblast, as to give us some 
 reasons, out of the arts and sciences, for what 
 a franchise may mean." 
 
 "^ I understand you," replied Vanderblast, 
 with a significant wink of much satisfaction; 
 ^' you would know what the word imputes, what 
 it comes from ; or, as we of the school say, the 
 chronology of the word franchise ?" 
 
 " Justly so," answered Von Stitchen^ " and 
 most aptly taken." 
 
 Vanderblast looked wise, held up his head, 
 hemmed, and with a most provokingly instruc- 
 tive air, thus expounded : '' A franchise, Master 
 Jeremy Von Stitchen, is a thing specially per- 
 taining to the law, and by it upheld for us citi- 
 zens, for the benefit of us and our predecessors, 
 t3
 
 278 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 to the latest generation. It is the citizen's good 
 name, his boast, and his extinction. In short, a 
 franchise is a franchise^ and means a restraint to 
 do all things according to law, whereupon we 
 found our grounds of rebellion. A franchise 
 allows of seeking for justice in our own way, 
 without being cheated by the lawyers to help us 
 to it. It gives us Hberty to put up whom we 
 please, and to put down whom we please, when 
 things go wrong in the state ; and to hang all 
 the nobles, who are no better than they should 
 be. It extinguishes all that is profitable, and 
 smashes earls^ governments, and princes with as 
 much ease as if they were made of glass. This 
 is the meaning of the word franchise^ and for 
 this we will live or die like loyal rebels, and 
 magnanimous conspirators." 
 
 " That we will," said Oxhead ; " and rather 
 than brook tyrants and tyranny, we will turn 
 this city into the slaughter-house of justice, and 
 kill and knock down every beast of them all, 
 without favour or distinction." 
 
 " But what I am most thinking about," said 
 a mariner of the Scheld, '« is, how the devil that
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 279 
 
 old woman could make the White Hoods fly 
 about so fast as they did to-day. Why, they 
 came as thick about our ears as sea-gulls drive 
 on shore before stormy weather ; the witch raised 
 them as fast, and with as much ease, as she would 
 the old one himself." 
 
 " She raised them with more ease, I take it," 
 said the host, "than she could put them down 
 again, so long as they leave us a head to wear 
 them upon." 
 
 " What ! do you talk of wearing a white 
 hood, man," said Oxhead to the host, " and 
 your house so specially in favour with my lord's 
 great man, Gilbert Matthew? Your ears will 
 pay for it." 
 
 " May be not," answered Gerard, " for my ears 
 are always open to a customer, and my tongue 
 too. Us of the public vocation^ Master Oxhead, 
 must live for the public, as we live by the public ; 
 and though I wish well to every White Hood of 
 you all, I have no ill-will towards my lord or his 
 people, for they are good friends to the spigot 
 and flagon ; and a man must live by his friends. 
 So I see no harm, in drinking this cup, to say, 
 t4
 
 280 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Heaven bless the Earl, and the White Hoods 
 to boot." 
 
 This comical mixture of a spirit of loyalty 
 and treason^ so openly avowed by the simple 
 Gerard, produced more mirth than anger, and 
 the whole party resumed their politics, and 
 seasoned each discussion with so many flagons, 
 drawn from the cellars of the host, that it was 
 confidently averred, when Martha Van Dredgger 
 next attended mass, and offered up a lighted 
 candle to the shrine of her favourite saint, she 
 accompanied the offering with a petition, that 
 the rebellion of the White Hoods might espe- 
 cially be suffered to prevail, for the good of the 
 Moon.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 281 
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Upon the evening after the memorable day, the 
 events of which formed the subject of the last 
 chapter^ John Lyon and his nephew, Peter du 
 Bois, were closeted in earnest conference. The 
 latter^ the most artful of all the insurgents, had 
 so acted upon the weak mind of his relative, that 
 John might be considered little more than a 
 tool in his hand. They had both publicly 
 avowed that their only motive for insurrection 
 arose from a desire to serve the citizens of 
 Ghent^ yet it must be already known to the 
 reader, that a deep resentment against Gilbert 
 Matthew chiefly actuated the conduct of John 
 Lyon, and a cunning, selfish, and ambitious 
 temper, with the hope to repair a broken for- 
 tune, stimulated the exertions of Du Bois. A 
 satisfactory peace between the Earl and his 
 people, was, therefore, the last thing to be 
 desired by the uncle or the nephew, since it
 
 :282 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 would neither satisfy the resentment of the one, 
 nor improve the bankrupt estate of the other. 
 
 Stilly neither John Lyon nor Peter du Bois 
 were yet so far gone in guilt as to be wholly 
 reckless of their deeds. They began by hoping 
 to achieve their object without the commission 
 of actual cruelty upon others. How far they 
 afterwards increased in crime, as their evil pro- 
 pensities gathered strength by indulgence, will 
 be seen in the sequel. 
 
 John Lyon, upon meeting Du Bois, appeared 
 thoughtful and moody, and there was something 
 of indifference in his manner that surprised the 
 nephew, for he did not enter warmly into what 
 was their usual subject of discussion. " You 
 are but in bad spirits this evening, uncle," said 
 Peter; '' what has happened, may I ask, thus to 
 affect you ?" 
 
 " To speak truth," replied John Lyon, " I 
 have this day been much moved by the earnest 
 remonstrances of my daughter; she fears our 
 plans will end badly, and, timid as she used to 
 be towards me, she has now cast it off, and is 
 grown as bold in argument almost as ourselves.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 283 
 
 She has had the audacity to urge — in short, she 
 has plainly told me, I am nothing better than a 
 traitor to my prince, who so lately spared my 
 life, when my own party had not strength 
 enough to guard me from the laws. She 
 threatened me with the vengeance of Heaven 
 if I persisted, and then, with so many tears, 
 with such an affectionate importunity^ conjured 
 me to abandon my false friends, as she termed 
 them, that I was nearly shaken in my purpose. 
 However, at length I succeeded in getting rid of 
 her supplications, by sending her to pray for me 
 at the vespers of St. Nicholas." 
 
 " And can this move a man engaged in plots 
 like ours?" said Du Bois, sneeringly. ^' If such 
 things affect you, uncle, you should not have 
 gone thus far in matters of deep moment. My 
 pretty cousin, Anna, means well ; but she knows 
 nothing of our affairs, nor shall she. Women 
 should keep the house, and mind their toys and 
 their prayers, and not interfere with things 
 beyond their sense; nor should the cry of a 
 petted girl move the spirit of a man, who looks 
 to overturn a country. Fie, fie, out upon it —
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 it is unworthy of you. But I have news that 
 will demand our utmost vigilance^ to prevent its 
 fatal effects to our cause. You must act this 
 night, or all is over." 
 
 " What do you mean, Peter," exclaimed 
 John Lyon. " This must be news, indeed." 
 
 ^« Aye, and such news^" replied Du Bois^ '' as 
 we little thought to hear. Could I have fore- 
 seen what has chanced^ I would rather have 
 chosen the devil for a chief than Von Artaveld. 
 Would you think it ; he so harangued my Lord 
 of Flanders, that Lewis called him a brave spirit, 
 overwhelmed him with commendations, and has 
 promised to take off the tax on the navigation of 
 the Scheld ; to prevent the canal going on at 
 Bruges ; and, as a warrant for his farther good 
 intentions towards Ghent, resolved to set Sir 
 Simon de Bete at liberty; and to-morrow the 
 foolish old goldsmith intends to gratify his 
 ridiculous pomp, by making a public entry 
 into the city. And what think you is the 
 condition stipulated as our part of the per- 
 formance, in requital for these condescensions 
 of my lord ?"
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 285 
 
 " Perhaps to pay some yearly levy, of our 
 own naming," said John Lyon. 
 
 " No," replied Du Bois ; " we are required to 
 tear off our white hoods; to lay down our arms; 
 and that your head and mine, as the instigators 
 of revolt, shall be at the mercy of Lewis de 
 Male." 
 
 ^' That is as much as to say," said the uncle, 
 " that they may be taken off so soon as Gilbert 
 Matthew bids the provost raise the axe, and he 
 will not tarry in the bidding." 
 
 " That will be the end of it," answered Du 
 Bois; " though Von Artaveld protests he has 
 expressly stipulated no danger shall fall upon 
 our heads^ and that the Earl, having the power 
 to do so, will dismiss us with a reprimand." 
 
 " I will not trust to it, however," said John 
 Lyon ; '« something must instantly be done ; we 
 must gain over all our parties, and the several 
 trades, to determine upon keeping on their 
 white hoods; they must promise to stand by us 
 and uphold our acts, before my ancient friend, 
 Sir Simon de Bete, can be known to be set free 
 from prison. If he appears, as the pledge of the
 
 286 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 EarFs good faith, ere the people are secured — 
 are our own — all will be lost, indeed." 
 
 " Leave me to deal with Sir Simon," said Du 
 Bois ; " I have a trap ready to catch the old fox ; 
 he shall not be at liberty to do us mischief. He 
 sends me word, that the Earl has graciously 
 communicated his intention of liberating him, 
 and that he could wish me to meet him without 
 the walls of Ghent, that I may marshal him to 
 the market-place, where he will surprise the 
 citizens with such an address upon his captivity 
 and restoration, as they never yet heard. Look, 
 here is Sir Simon's letter ; and the old goldsmith 
 writes with as much importance as if the world 
 itself had stopped on its wheels since he was 
 confined, and could only be set going again 
 when he was once more free." 
 
 '^ His wife, the Lady Judith, I understand," 
 said John Lyon, ^' has been most violent in her 
 complaints to our burgomasters, in consequence 
 of his detention.'' 
 
 " She has, indeed," answered Du Bois. 
 " The shrew missed her husband too much, to 
 be lonor without him ; she wanted Sir Simon for
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 287 
 
 the exercise of her tongue, to rail at its accus- 
 tomed object. Doubtless the dame has laid up 
 stores of wrath to welcome the good man, who 
 now escapes a prison to return to a worse thral- 
 dom. But the varlets and the waiting damsels 
 will rejoice, since, beside their own storms, they 
 have lately endured those that would otherwise 
 have been showered on Sir Simon." 
 
 Whilst Du Bois made these remarks, in his 
 usual tone of sarcastic observation, John Lyon 
 walked slowly towards the upper end of the 
 room, and suddenly pausing, he turned about, 
 and said to Du Bois, *' Nephew, I have be- 
 thought me of a plan which can be executed to 
 save us. Yet we must not trust Von Artaveld 
 with all our measures. He is young, brave, 
 and of a noble spirit. It is well we have chosen 
 him for our chief, since he has an unlimited 
 influence with our more sober citizens ; and his 
 name acts, even like a spell of Ursula's, to rouse 
 and animate our people. But though I grant 
 all this, Von Artaveld is neither politic nor 
 secret ; he will do every thing in the open light 
 of day ; and, however bold and useful he might
 
 288 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 be in the execution of our schemes, he would do 
 them rashly ; we, perhaps, have been rash, too, 
 in choosing him so soon. But still we are the 
 leaders of our own bands ; we can command them 
 without his concurrence. First tell me when is 
 it that the Earl of Flanders will send to demand 
 that the white hoods should be cast off, and that 
 your head and mine shall attend upon his mercy 
 and his will ?" 
 
 " I have not positively learnt the time," 
 answered Du Bois. '^ But some say that his 
 bailiff will appear in the square of the market- 
 place to-morrow, and there issue the procla- 
 mation." 
 
 " Then," said John Lyon, " will I be busy 
 this night. Let all our men, each wearing his 
 white hood, and fully armed, be assembled at an 
 early hour to-morrow morning. We will then 
 march them in a body to the market-place. I 
 have not time to communicate my further pur- 
 pose at present. But^ at any rate, Sir Simon 
 must not be suffered to harangue the people, 
 and his being at liberty for the present must rest 
 unknown, else the citizens may so far rely upon
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 289 
 
 the promises of the Earl, seeing one fulfilled^ 
 that they may patch up a peace with Lewis on 
 easy terms ; this shall not be done, and we must 
 force them to do something that shall render 
 peace more dangerous than war." 
 
 " Your orders shall be punctually fulfilled," 
 replied Du Bois. " Why now, uncle, you are 
 yourself again, and speak and act as a man. 
 Away, then, with women and folly; think no 
 more of your daughter, and leave the house 
 without bidding her farewell, or you will turn 
 again by her breath, like the vane on the town 
 steeple. Arnoul le Clerc shall head our people, 
 and conduct them wherever you will join them. 
 And as for Sir Simon, I, and a body of my 
 chosen friends, will deal with him before sun- 
 rise to-morrow, for he leaves his prison to-night. 
 He shall make no public speeches, I warrant 
 you. But there is one thing essential — we want 
 tnoney. I bestowed our last bag of crowns 
 amongst our rascals, upon the morning of the 
 archery. We have yet committed no public 
 outrage ; actual hostilities are not yet begun, so 
 
 VOL. I. u
 
 290 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 that we cannot yet help ourselves from the bags of 
 others, and our men must have money to secure 
 them ours ; they thirst for more of that dross^ for 
 which they would sell both body and soul to the 
 highest bidder." 
 
 " This is a hard point," said John Lyon. 
 ^« I have httle left. Gilbert Matthew deprived 
 me of my office, and since then, gold, land, 
 jewels, all I had, has been spent in forwarding 
 our cause. My fortune is almost as broken as 
 your own. Unless we begin to act soon, I shall 
 be little better than a beggar." 
 
 " If things, then, are so desperate with you, 
 we must look for gold elsewhere," answered 
 Peter ; " for gold must be had, and this night 
 too. Let me see; what can be done? We 
 cannot ask Von Artaveld, since he must not 
 know of our present scheme. But I know one 
 who has the means; and I will gain it, if possible 
 
 by fair words, and if not " Du Bois stopt 
 
 short, and struck forcibly the haft of his sword, 
 as he grasped it and half drew it from its 
 sheath.
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 291 
 
 " Of whom do you speak?" said John Lyon, 
 who did not choose to notice the action^ though 
 he remarked it. 
 
 ". I speak," rephed Peter, " of that wretched 
 old dotard, Bernard Goldthrift, the Antwerp 
 usurer, who joined us, because the Earl of 
 Flanders laughed at his threats for bond debts, 
 and Gilbert Matthew paid back the principal, 
 and purloined the interest for his own benefit; 
 a treasurer worthy of his master. I will see old 
 Goldthrift. The wretch has stores of wealth, 
 yet dies daily in the fear of want, whilst age and 
 misery lead him by a protracted torture to that 
 grave which soon must hold his wretched body 
 — a mere anatomy that will scarcely fatten a 
 worm." 
 
 " You will never get a crown from him," 
 said John Lyon, '' unless your securities were as 
 substantial as a prince could offer." 
 
 *'^ I will try, however," answered Du Bois; 
 '' and, in the mean time, do you prepare every 
 thing for to-morrow ; I will meet you again before 
 I rest, but not here. In my own house, this 
 night, we will once again hold a conference with 
 u 2
 
 292 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Arnoul le Clerc and our friends, in our usual 
 council chamber." 
 
 ^« I will meet you there at midnight," said 
 John Lyon; " till then, farewell." 
 
 With this agreement the uncle and the 
 nephew parted. John Lyon lost no time in 
 directing his bands of White Hoods what to do, 
 and Peter du Bois went in quest of Bernard 
 Goldthrift, who now resided in Ghent, and whom 
 the reader may remember as forming one of the 
 secret conclave, whose presence so much shocked 
 Anna, at the house of Peter du Bois. 
 
 When Du Bois entered the habitation of the 
 wretched usurer^ he was shewn into an inner 
 apartment, where every thing seemed to speak 
 the mind and the manners of the owner. The 
 room was large^ gloomy^ and ancient; the win- 
 dows, placed near the ceiling, were guarded, like 
 a prison, with iron bars ; and not only was every 
 arrangement in the house devoid of the elegance 
 which wealth can supply^ but an appearance of 
 poverty and meanness seemed studiously adopted; 
 for comfort or convenience were things that 
 had never been found within the dwelling of old
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 293 
 
 Bernard. The walls of the room, black from 
 time and the accumulated dust of ages, reeked 
 with damp ; here nothing seemed to thrive but 
 the spiders^ which, large in size and numerous 
 in their generation, had made their webs of 
 hanging festoons from cornice to cornice in 
 undisturbed security. 
 
 A stove was fixed in one corner of the apart- 
 ment. A rough hewn oak table stood in the 
 centre, and near to it a chair of great antiquity, 
 and probably of German manufacture, since 
 three of the legs represented, in rude carving, 
 animals common to the forest. The fourth had 
 been a repair of old Bernard's, cut out of com- 
 mon deal. In a niche was a crucifix, and near 
 it a second table, containing a vast quantity of 
 brown and dusty parchments, with a variety of 
 miscellaneous articles, that seemed to have been 
 collected together without any purpose of utility. 
 These had most likely been saved by the miser 
 from the rubbish of his less thrifty acquaintance ; 
 for that nothing should he lost, or could he useless, 
 was a maxim which Goldthrift had all his life 
 u3
 
 294 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 observed. He was a great collector, therefore, 
 of whatever he could get for nothing ; and, like 
 many other collectors^ he had stores of relics, 
 whose only character was their uselessness, and 
 whose only value might be their age. 
 
 The room was hung with tapestry of the old 
 Flemish school, which represented the austerities 
 of several celebrated saints ; some were flaying 
 their backs for the honour of the church, whilst 
 others, the woeful apparitions of abstinence and 
 superstition, looked almost as bare-boned as the 
 skeleton^ which was introduced as an emblem of 
 death, at their feet. It was not at all impro- 
 bable that the images thus constantly presented 
 to the eyes of the usurer, might act upon his 
 mind as a subject of encouragement and emula- 
 tion in his own habits of self-denial ; for meagre 
 living had wasted every muscle of Goldthrift's 
 body, and had consumed the very skin upon his 
 bones. His eyes sunk in their sockets, and yet 
 (from contrast with his hollow cheeks,) seemingly 
 almost starting from his head, rendered him 
 altogether so ghastly an object, that had a painter
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 295 
 
 desired a study, personally to embody the idea 
 of famine^ Bernard Goldthrift would have been 
 the model of his choice. 
 
 The door had been opened to Du Bois by a 
 girl of about twelve years old ; her countenance 
 was thin and sickly. The child having the misfor- 
 tune to be the orphan niece of old Bernard, was 
 at once his companion, his drudge, and his 
 housekeeper — assisted occasionally in her do- 
 mestic duties by an old man, who, from mere 
 habit rather than gratitude, continued to afford 
 some slight service to the usurer, as he doled 
 out to him a paltry pittance under the name of 
 charity. 
 
 Peter told the child he had business of im- 
 portance with her uncle, and much desired to 
 see him ; but the little girl declared he was not 
 at home, in a manner that convinced Du Bois 
 she spoke the truth. " And where is he gone, 
 my dainty damsel ?" said Peter, " and when 
 will he return again ?" 
 
 " He is gone to the market, I believe," replied 
 the child, '^ for we are hungry, and uncle never 
 buys meat but at evenings, because he then 
 u 4
 
 296 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 picks up the bits that are left from the morning 
 cheap, and he wont let me go, for fear I should 
 give as much as people might ask me for them ; 
 and I wish he was come home, for I want some 
 supper." 
 
 " Sordid wretch !" muttered Du Bois. " But 
 he must help us ; I will not leave the house till 
 he does so." Peter then told the girl he would 
 await her uncle's return, as his business could 
 not brook delay ; and the child, desiring him to 
 stay in the room where he was, shut the door, 
 and returned to her accustomed drudgery in the 
 kitchen. 
 
 Peter threw himself into the old chair, and 
 his own busy thoughts for some time afforded 
 him ample employment, till, growing impatient, 
 he began to think of retreating for the present, 
 to call again at a later hour. He was about to 
 rise from the chair, when, all at once, he thought 
 he heard a strange sound under the flooring at 
 the farthest end of the room ; he listened, and 
 the noise was repeated. Peter sat quite still, 
 determined to ascertain the cause ; and his own 
 figure was tolerably well concealed by the dusk
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 297 
 
 of the evening, which had nearly closed in since 
 his arrival at the house. 
 
 Du Bois fixed his eyes upon the spot whence 
 the sounds had seemed to issue^ and at length 
 he observed a secret trap-door suddenly drop 
 down. In the next minute the wretched figure 
 of Bernard Goldthrift slowly and cautiously 
 ascended, his eyes glistening with an expression 
 of internal satisfaction^ as a lamp which he car- 
 ried in his hand shewed plainly the haggard 
 and ghastly features of the miser. Bernard put 
 down the lamp upon the ground^ and then 
 secured the trap-door that led to the idol of his 
 worship, the object of his hopes and fears — his 
 gold. 
 
 When he had secured the trap by its secret 
 spring, he again took the lamp in his hand, rose 
 up^ and turned towards the table. The first 
 object he beheld was — Peter du Bois, sitting 
 quietly in the old chair, with his eyes attentively 
 fixed on himself ! But what words can describe 
 his dismay at such an unexpected sight ? Terror 
 and despair seemed to struggle for the mastery 
 in the expression of his countenance, whilst, old,
 
 298 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 weak, and helpless, he appeared ready to sink 
 into the earth from the shock of so sudden an 
 alarm. His senses seemed bewildered ; and 
 prudence, though not cunning, forsook him, as 
 he exclaimed, in a shrill scream of apprehension, 
 " I am betrayed ! ruined ! robbed ! murdered ! 
 but I have no gold there (pointing to the trap- 
 door), no gold there; it is only a place I visit 
 for penance, and to mortify my sins." 
 
 " Is it so, old Bernard ?" said Du Bois, sar- 
 castically, as he quitted his seat. " I should 
 have thought you go thither to contemplate 
 wealth which might give you comfort, whilst 
 you are daily consuming in misery. But you 
 need not fear me. I have discovered your secret, 
 (Bernard shook his head) ; nay, you know I 
 have discovered it, and by your own folly ! The 
 child thought you were from home ; she desired 
 me to wait here." 
 
 " Aye, aye," replied the miser, in a tone 
 tremulous with age and infirmity; but, cautious 
 from habitual suspicion, he added, with a signi- 
 ficant look, " Girls are thoughtless ; girls will 
 prate ; so I never let my niece know when I
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 299 
 
 descend from the light of day to practise morti- 
 fications in the bowels of the earth. I tell her 
 I am going out, and send her away to do her 
 duties in my household. But how came it, I 
 wonder, that I should forget to-day to lock this 
 room door, that nobody might disturb my hour 
 of meditation ?" 
 
 " Why^ because it was fated," said Peter, 
 " that I should come in by it. Never mind, 
 man, you are safe, for I am neither robber nor 
 murderer. But these excuses will not serve 
 with me. Do you think I cannot fathom you, 
 old Goldthrift ? Thou at thy meditations ! Yes, 
 to glut thy eyes upon bond securities, bags of 
 gold, chests of ingots, and caskets of rich jewels. 
 Such were thy meditations in yonder cave of 
 iniquity, where the groans of the sufferer, from 
 whom you have wrested their last acre of land, 
 never reach you ; where widows tears and 
 orphans sighs can never come to blot the writ- 
 ings, or to waft away the last pledge of hard 
 necessity ; where thy meditations calculate upon 
 the next spendthrift who hastes to complete his 
 ruin under thy auspices ; and where thou canst
 
 300 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 number the rogues and fools who will all fly to 
 thee for help, and curse thee while they take it." 
 
 " Why, how now, Peter ?" said old Bernard^ 
 trembling with fear, as his eye glanced upon Du 
 Bois with a look of astonishment and suspicion. 
 " Why, how is this ?" and he added^ with a 
 strange exclamation that terror involuntarily 
 provoked, and which the miser checked and 
 endeavoured to tm-n into a laugh of good fellow- 
 ship^ '^ We are comrades, and must not rate 
 each other." 
 
 Peter saw the uncommon advantage he had 
 gained in having discovered the secret of Ber- 
 nard's treasure; and well knowing he could 
 turn it to account by alarming the fears of the 
 coward who stood before him, he again spoke in 
 a rough and determined manner. '^ I know 
 you have wealth, Bernard, and now I know 
 where it lies concealed — useless, worthless as 
 its master. Yet it may do much good, if pro- 
 perly employed. Dost thou ever consider, 
 Goldthrift, that there it shall remain, till it is 
 first opened to pay the man who shall do Ghent 
 the service of putting that miserable carcase of
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 301 
 
 thine within a coffin and a grave ? Dost thou 
 ever think of this ?" 
 
 " Why, aye^ yes, yes," answered Bernard, 
 greatly affrighted, ^* I do think upon it some- 
 times, when I mortify for my sins ; but I am not 
 dead yet, Peter, and I never had much to do 
 with the leeches, and so I hope to live yet to see 
 you as great a man as you hope to be." 
 
 «^ And live you may for me," said Du Bois ; 
 " and as for my greatness, you must help me to 
 that — you must serve me." 
 
 " Certainly," replied Goldthrift, " any thing 
 in reason, any thing within my poor power and 
 means. I would serve you, Peter," continued 
 the cunning old rogue, who now thought Du 
 Bois was coming round to a better humour, 
 <^ I would serve you, as I would my dearest 
 friends." 
 
 " I hope not," replied Du Bois, " for I should 
 be loth to loose daylight in company with thy 
 bags and ingots yonder. Your service to me 
 must begin by an act of liberation." 
 
 " Any thing," said the usurer, who now 
 shuffled towards the table of parchments, think-
 
 302 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 ing Du Bois came to borrow money; " any 
 thing within reason, and such as a poor old man 
 like me may do without offence to his con- 
 science." 
 
 " Conscience !" exclaimed Peter, laughing — 
 ^* no, no, I will not make you offend against 
 conscience, by forcing you to lend money without 
 exacting interest. All I want is, a gift — a 
 free and generous gift, to help to carry on our 
 cause with some of your imprisoned crowns." 
 
 If the reader has ever chanced to see any 
 human creature whose whole soul, and even 
 body, has suddenly undergone the most violent 
 opposition of feeling from joy to dismay^ from 
 hope to despair^ he may have some idea of the 
 look and manner of old Bernard at this moment, 
 yet it would be difficult to describe it, so per- 
 fectly astonished, and even stupified, was the 
 miser at the proposal of a gift, that he only 
 stared in silence at the audacity of Du Bois, as 
 he alternately raised and let fall his hands in 
 amazement. At length avarice and indignation 
 got the better even of fear itself, and Bernard 
 found the use of his tongue to vent curses upon
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 303 
 
 Peter for his impudent demand — curses too 
 shocking for repetition. 
 
 Du Bois for some time let the storm rage, 
 and then very calmly said, " Bernard, I give 
 you a fair warning. I have no interest to keep 
 the secret of the entrance to your cavern there, 
 and our White Hoods have an eye as keen as 
 yours for gold, with stronger arms and younger 
 feet to gain access to it. They shall pay their 
 respects to you." 
 
 " They, they," replied old Goldthrift ; « they 
 cannot, they would not harm me ; I am their 
 comrade, one of their leaders." 
 
 '^ And therefore they would share with you/' 
 said Du Bois. ^' But it so happens, that you, 
 being as you yourself admits one of their leaders, 
 is at this moment a thing of such peril, that 
 unless you comply with my request before to- 
 morrow, that very circumstance will devote your 
 head to the provost marshal. The Earl has 
 agreed to redress all the grievances of the citi- 
 zens, on condition that every leader of the White 
 Hoods shall be given up to justice. Your death 
 and mine is certain, unless we can this night
 
 304 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 find gold (aye gold, old Bernard), to make our 
 people keep on their white hoods, and stand by 
 us who are their leaders ; to keep our heads upon 
 their shoulders." 
 
 " And must I, must I," said the miser, in a 
 tone of voice which expressed the most acute 
 anguish of mind, ^^ must I part with all that is 
 dear to me on earth ? Is it," he continued, 
 wringing his hands, "is it for this that I have 
 toiled day and night, denied myself comfort and 
 rest ? Is it for this that I have been cursed and 
 hated all my life long, and now in my old age 
 
 to have my heart broken, to I cannot, I 
 
 cannot do it. The Earl is merciful ; the provost 
 cannot act without his sanction ; he may relent. 
 Think of some other way " 
 
 '^ There is no other way," said Du Bois, 
 '^ that can save you, for you are especially ob- 
 noxious to Gilbert Matthew, and he has sworn 
 to take vengeance upon you the first opportunity. 
 You refused him the thousand crowns he wanted 
 before he obtained the new office ; and can you 
 now hope, unless our White Hoods are sup- 
 ported by us, that they will support tis — can
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 305 
 
 you hope, I say, long to keep that venerable 
 head of yours upon your shoulders, most worthy 
 Bernard ? Come, think it is to save your own 
 life ; open, then, your bags, and set the coins 
 free ; they can give you no comfort in the tomb ; 
 for remember, as your only delight is now to 
 look upon them, your eyes then will be closed 
 in darkness." 
 
 Thus with threats and arguments did Peter 
 du Bois continue to act upon the mind of the 
 usurer, who at length was so alarmed by the 
 exaggerated picture which Du Bois drew of his 
 danger, that he consented to advance a sum of 
 money from his secret store. Having reluctantly 
 done this, Goldthrift prepared to descend once 
 more into his den alone ; but this Peter would 
 not admit. " No, no, Bernard," said he, ^' I 
 will go with you ; the especial value which I feel 
 for your neck will not allow me to trust to 
 your conscience the counting out the sum that 
 must be used to save it. We must not spare 
 the gold, to hang the master of the bags. 
 Come, I'll go with you; open the trap-door, 
 and give me the lamp." 
 
 VOL. I. X
 
 306 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 Gold thrift, with evident reluctance, com- 
 plied. Had he been descending the steps of 
 that dungeon, with which Du Bois had 
 threatened him, he could scarcely have done 
 so with a slower pace, or with a more ghastly 
 expression of countenance. His spirit writhed 
 within him, and gave vent to its secret agonies 
 by sundry deep sighs and groans, which accom- 
 panied the turn of the keys, as he opened a 
 chest of iron. 
 
 " Come,'* said Du Bois, " let me spare you 
 the painful office of giving liberty to these pri- 
 soners. I will take them out, and begin from 
 that bag^ that large leathern bag." 
 
 " No, no; not that," exclaimed the miser, 
 eagerly ; " not that ; those are florins, all - of 
 pure gold^ and not wanting one grain in 
 weight. Hercj take fifty silver crowns of 
 Flemish money." , 
 
 " Fifty crowns !" cried Du Bois, " that is 
 nothing : fifty crowns amongst our bands ! Are 
 you mad to offer it? Give gold, fair gold, 
 every coin full, round, and heavy, stamped with 
 an image that might bribe the devil himself to
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 307 
 
 worship it. Besides, we can carry a larger sum 
 in gold pieces in a smaller space." 
 
 " Nay, but it must do ; fifty crowns must do," 
 answered Bernard, with a groan. '' I cannot 
 bring my heart to touch the florins for such a 
 purpose." 
 
 " But the provost will touch thy throat, then, 
 old Goldthrift," said Peter; '^ and as I now 
 bethink me that he is a man accessible to some 
 feeling of pity in his way, perhaps you may like 
 to keep those florins, in order to use them as a 
 bribe with him, to procure you the grace of 
 hanging, or the axe, instead of being broken on 
 the wheel." 
 
 " Take fifty florins, then," cried the alarmed 
 miser, as, with a terrified countenance, he forced 
 himself to use a desperate effort to subdue his 
 own avarice, and thrust his hand into the bag. 
 
 " Not so," replied Peter; " we shall lose 
 some precious moments in the telling of them 
 out ; give me the bag." 
 
 " I cannot — I will not," said the miser. " A 
 curse upon thee, Du Bois ; would you have me 
 tear out my heart to give you ?" 
 X 2
 
 308 THE WHITE HOODS. 
 
 " No/' replied Du Bois, " only the gold. 
 The provost, Goldthrift; think upon the provost." 
 
 " Take a hundred pieces," said Bernard, 
 « but not all." 
 
 " Hanging or beheading," continued Peter ; 
 " the provost, the provost. Master Goldthrift." 
 
 *^ Take the bag, then, and may the curse of 
 Gehazi go with it," exclaimed the usurer, as he 
 threw the bag of florins upon the ground, sud- 
 denly shut down the lid of the chest, and placed 
 himself upon it. " And now, Du Bois," said 
 the wretch, "be satisfied; for I will not yield 
 one florin more, though it were to save both life 
 and soul. You shall steep your hands in my 
 blood, and trample me under foot, before you 
 again so much as look into the chest." 
 
 " Well," replied Du Bois, " for the present 
 I will be satisfied ; and as for thy blood ! I would 
 not soil the bright blade of a good sword by 
 dipping it into such pollution. It would be too 
 honourable a death for thee, old Goldthrift ; for 
 thou wert certainly born to starve with thy own 
 rats, and die amongst them, or else to make thy 
 last leap from the hangman's tree."
 
 THE WHITE HOODS. 309 
 
 Peter, well satisfied with the sum he had 
 obtained, immediately departed, leaving the 
 miser to deplore its loss ; and after an interview 
 with Ursula^ he hastened to meet the leaders 
 and captains of his own bands at the chamber of 
 midnight council, where John Lyon was ex- 
 pected finally to settle every desperate plan, 
 which^ it was agreed, should be executed on the 
 following morning. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
 
 London : 
 
 Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode, 
 
 New- Street- Square.
 
 .^NIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA