The Laughing Cavalier | Page 7

to their ears,
and from several by-streets that gave on the Market Place, people came
hurrying along, attracted by the noise.
"Let us go round behind the Fleishmarkt," said Diogenes, as soon as his
two friends had come within earshot of him, "and reach the rear of the
cathedral that way. Unless I am greatly mistaken the seat of yonder
quarrel is by a small postern gate which I spied awhile ago at the corner
of Dam Straat and where methinks I saw a number of men and women
furtively gaining admittance: they looked uncommonly like Papists,
and the postern gate not unlike a Romanist chapel door."
"Then there undoubtedly will be a row," said Socrates dryly.
"And we are no longer likely to find the place dull," concluded
Pythagoras in a flute-like voice.
And the three men, pulling their plumed hats well over their eyes,
turned without hesitation in the wake of their leader. They had by tacit
understanding unsheathed their swords and were carrying them under
the folds of their mantles. They walked in single file, for the street was
very narrow, the gabled roofs almost meeting overhead at their apex,
their firm footsteps made no sound on the thick carpet of snow. The

street was quite deserted and the confused tumult in the Dam Straat
only came now as a faint and distant echo.
Thus walking with rapid strides the three men soon found themselves
once more close to the cathedral: it loomed out of the fog on their left
and the cries and the laughter on ahead sounded more clear and shrill.
The words "for the love of Christ" could be easily distinguished;
uttered pleadingly at intervals by a woman's voice they sounded
ominous, more especially as they were invariably followed by cries of
"Spaniards! Spies! Papists!" and a renewal of loud and ribald laughter.
The leader of the little party had paused once more, his long legs
evidently carried him away faster than he intended: now he turned to
his friends and pointed with his hand and sword on ahead.
"Now, wise Pythagoras," he said, "wilt thou not have enjoyment and to
spare this night? Thou didst shower curses on this fog-ridden country,
and call it insufferably dull. Lo! what a pleasing picture doth present
itself to our gaze."
Whether the picture was pleasing or not depended entirely from the
point of view of spectator or participant. Certes it was animated and
moving and picturesque; and as three pairs of eyes beneath three
broad-brimmed hats took in its several details, three muffled figures
uttered three simultaneous gurgles of anticipated pleasure.
In the fog that hung thickly in the narrow street it was at first difficult
to distinguish exactly what was going on. Certain it is that a fairly
dense crowd, which swelled visibly every moment as idlers joined in
from many sides, had congregated at the corner of Dam Straat, there
where a couple of resin torches, fixed in iron brackets against a tall
stuccoed wall, shed a flickering and elusive light on the forms and faces
of a group of men in the forefront of the throng.
The faces thus exposed to view appeared flushed and heated -- either
with wine or ebullient temper -- whilst the upraised arms, the clenched
fists and brandished staves showed a rampant desire to do mischief.

There was a low postern gate in the wall just below the resin torches.
The gate was open and in the darkness beyond vague moving forms
could be seen huddled together in what looked like a narrow unlighted
passage. It was from this huddled mass of humanity that the wails and
calls for divine protection proceeded, whilst the laughter and the threats
came from the crowd.
From beneath three broad-brimmed hats there once more came three
distinct chuckles of delight, and three muffled figures hugged naked
swords more tightly under their cloaks.
Chapter II
-- THE FRACAS BY THE POSTERN GATE
Thus am I proved right in saying that but for the conglomeration of
minor circumstances within the past half hour, the great events which
subsequently linked the fate of a penniless foreign adventurer with that
of a highly honorable and highly esteemed family of Haarlem never
would or could have occurred.
For had the three philosophers adhered to their usual custom of retiring
to the warmth and comfort of the Lame Cow, situate in the Kleine Hout
Straat, as soon as the as the streets no longer presented an agreeable
lolling place, they would never have known the tumult that went on at
this hour under the very shadow of the cathedral.
But seeing it all going on before them, what could they do but join in
the fun?
The details of the picture which had the low postern gate for its central