In a large old house, built almost entirely of wood, and situated in one of the suburbs of Ghent, far removed from all the noise and bustle of the more frequented parts of that busy town, there was a large old hall, in former years employed as a place of meeting by the linen weavers; but which, at the time I speak of, had been long disused for that purpose, when, the trade becoming more flourishing, its followers had built themselves a more splendid structure in the heart of the city.

In this hall were assembled, at a late hour of the day, about fifty personages of both sexes, and apparently of various grades and professions. Some were dressed in rather gay habiliments, some in staid and sober costume, but fine and costly withal, and some in the garb of the common artizans. The greater number, however, seemed of a wealthy class; but all appeared to know each other; and the rich citizen spoke in brotherly fellowship to the poor mechanic, the well-dressed burgher's wife nodded with friendly looks to the daughter of her husband's workman. There was one part of the hall, indeed, in which, for a moment, there was a momentary bustle caused by a beautiful girl in a mourning garb, of somewhat foreign fashion, expressing apparently a wish to quit the hall; but it was soon quieted; and a minute or two after, a tall, elderly man, with white hair, stood up at the end of a long table, having some books laid upon it, while the rest of the assembly sat on benches round, at some little distance, leaving a vacant space in the midst.

After pausing for a minute or two till all was silent, the old man began to speak, addressing his companions in a fine, mellow tone, and with a mild, persuasive air.

"My brethren!" he said, in the Flemish tongue, "although I be an ignorant man and not meet to deal with such high matters, you have permitted me to expound to you the opinions of wiser men than myself, and especially of the venerable John Huss, upon things that nearly touch the salvation of all; and on former occasions, I have shown you cause to see that very many corruptions and abominations have, by the wickedness of men, been brought into the Church of Christ. Amongst other points on which we have all agreed, there are these principal ones; that the word of God, first preached by the lowly and the humble to the poor and ignorant, should be laid open to all men, and committed to their own keeping, not being made to be put under a bed or hidden in a bushel, but to be a light shining in darkness, and leading every one in the way of salvation: that the Bible is no more the book of the priests than the book of the people, but is the property of all for the security of their souls. Secondly, we have agreed that there is but one mediator with God the Father, Jesus Christ our Lord; and that to worship, or invoke, or kneel down to even good and holy men departed, whom we are wont to call saints, is a gross idolatry, as well as the worship of statues, figures, or cross pieces of wood and stone; there being nothing that can save us, but faith in our Redeemer, and no intercession available but his; for, surely, it is a folly to suppose that men, who were sinners like ourselves, have power to help or save others when they have need of the one atonement for their own salvation. Thirdly, we have held, that in the mass there is no sacrifice, Christ having entered in once for all; and that to suppose that any man, by the imposition of a bishop's hands, receives power to change mere bread and wine into the substance of our Lord's body and blood, is a fond and foolish imagination devised by wicked priests for their own purposes. These were the points touched upon when last we met; and now, before we proceed farther, let us pray for grace to help us in our examination."

Thus saying, he knelt down at the end of the table--and all the rest, but one, followed his example, turning, and bending the knee by the benches around. The Hussite teacher raised his eyes and hands to heaven, and then, in a loud tone, uttered a somewhat long prayer, followed by the voices of his little congregation.

It was by this time growing somewhat dusk, for the sun must have been half way below the horizon; and the windows of the hall were narrow and far up; but nevertheless, when the kneelers raised themselves again at the conclusion of the prayer, and turned round towards the teacher, the eyes of all were fixed on one spot at the end of the table, and a universal cry burst from every lip. With some it seemed to be the sound of terror, with others that of rage and surprise; and well, indeed, might they feel astonished, for there, exactly opposite the old man who had led them in prayer, stood a figure frightful to behold, covered with long black shaggy hair, with two large horns upon its head, a pair of wings on its shoulders, swarthy and ribbed like those of a bat, and with the face, apparently, of a negro.^[9]

Hardly had they time to recover from their surprise, and to ask themselves what was the meaning of the apparition they beheld, when the doors of the hall burst open, and a mixed multitude rushed in, consisting of monks and priests, and the whole train of varlets and serving men which, in that day, were attached to monasteries, chapters, and other religious institutions in great towns. Staves and swords were plenty amongst them; and, with loud shouts of "Ah, the heretics! Ah, the blasphemers! Ah, the worshippers of Satan!" they rushed on the unhappy Hussites, overpowering them by numbers. No resistance was made; in consternation and alarm, the unhappy seekers of a purer faith rushed towards the doors, and even the windows, in the hope of making their escape. But the attempt was vain; one after another they were caught by their furious enemies, while cries of triumph and savage satisfaction rose up from different parts of the hall, as captive after captive was seized and pinioned.

"We have caught you in the fact," cried one.

"You shall blaspheme no more!" shouted another.

"I saw the arch enemy in the midst of them!" added a third.

"They were in the act of worshipping the devil!" said brother Paul.

"To the stake with them, to the stake with them!" roared a barefooted friar.

"You see what you have done," said Ella Brune to her cousin, who stood near with his arms tied. "This was very wrong of you, Nicholas."

"It was," answered Nicholas Brune, in a sorrowful tone; "but they can do no harm to you; for I and others can testify that you came, unknowing whither, and would have left us, if we had allowed you."

"Will they believe your testimony?" asked Ella, in a tone of deep despondency.

Before he could answer, brother Paul approached, and gazing at the fair unhappy girl with a malicious smile, he said, "Ah, ah, fair maiden, I knew your hypocrisy would be detected at length. I did not forget having seen you with the heretics at Liege."

Even as he spoke, however, there was a bustle at the door; and to the surprise of all the hall contained, a number of men completely armed appeared, having at their head a gentleman in the ordinary riding dress of the day, with the knightly spurs over his boots, and two long feathers in his cap.

"Stand there," he said in a loud voice, turning to the men who followed, "and let no one forth". Then striding through the hall with the multitude of priests and monks scattering before him, he advanced, gazing from right to left, till he reached the spot where Ella Brune was standing. A low murmur of joy burst from the poor girl's lips as Richard of Woodville approached; and she would fain have held out her hands towards him, but that her delicate wrists were tied with a hard cord.

Richard of Woodville gazed from her to father Paul, who stood beside her, with a stern brow; and then, in a low, but menacing voice, exclaimed, "Untie that cord, foul monk!"

"I will not," answered Father Paul, sullenly. "Who are you, that you should interrupt the course of justice, and rescue a blasphemous heretic from the stake?"

"Thou liest, knave!" answered Richard of Woodville. "She is a better Catholic than thou art, with all thy hypocritical grimaces;" and unsheathing his dagger, he cut the cord from Ella's wrist, and set her free.

"Ah, he draws his knife upon us!" cried father Paul. "Upon him! Cleave him down. Are there no brave men here?"

A rush was instantly made towards Richard of Woodville; and one man, with a guisarme, thrust himself right in his way; but laughing loud, the young knight bared his long, heavy sword, and waved it over his head, grasping Ella by the hand, and exclaiming in English, "On, my men! on! open a way, there!"

All but the most resolute of his opponents scattered from his path; and his stout followers forced their way forward into the hall, showing some reverence for the priests and monks, it is true; but striking the varlets and serving-men sundry heavy blows with the pommels of the swords, not easily to be forgotten. A scene of indescribable confusion ensued; the darkness of the hall was becoming every moment more profound--a number of the Hussites made their escape, and untied others; while still, through the midst of the crowd, Richard of Woodville slowly advanced towards the door, and knocking the guisarme out of the hand of one of the men who seemed most strongly bent on opposing his passage, he brought the point of his sword to his throat, exclaiming, "Back, or die!"

The sturdy varlet laid his hand upon his dagger; but, at the same moment, one of the English archers who had reached his side, struck him on the jaws with his steel glove, and knocked him reeling back amongst the crowd. Quickening his pace, Richard of Woodville hurried on, still holding Ella by the hand, and soon reached the top of the narrow stairs. There pausing at the door, he counted the number of his men, who had closed in behind him, to see that none were left, and then hastened down with his fair charge into the street, several other fugitive Hussites passing him as they fled with all the speed of terror.

As soon as they had reached the open road, the young Englishman turned to his followers, and ordered three of them to remain a step or two behind, to ensure that they were not taken by surprise, and to give notice if they were pursued. But the party of fanatic priests within were busy enough, in the wild riotous scene presented by the hall, now in almost total darkness, and often mistook one man for another in endeavouring to secure the prisoners that still remained in their hands. Thus Woodville and his companions were suffered to proceed on their way unfollowed, through numerous long and narrow streets, till they reached the inn where they had first alighted on their arrival in Ghent.

"Quick," cried Richard of Woodville to one of his attendants. "Saddle four horses and the mule; and you with Peter and Alfred be ready to set out. You must leave Ghent with all speed, my poor Ella," he continued, leading her into the inn. "I cannot go with you myself, but you shall hear from me soon, and the men will take care of you."

"I must go first to my cousin's house," said Ella, eagerly. "'Twill not take long to run thither and return. There are many things that I must take with me."

"You can pass round there as you go," replied Woodville; "less time will be lost, and there is none to spare. Here, host," he cried. "Host, I say!" But the host was not to be found; and one of the chamberlains, running up as the young knight and his followers stood under the arch, demanded, "What's your will, sir?"

"At what time are the city gates closed?" asked Richard of Woodville. "I have to levy men at Bruges for the service of the Duke, and must send some of my people on tonight."

"They do not shut till ten, sir, in this time of peace," replied the chamberlain; "so you have more than an hour; but even after that, an order from the cyndic will open them."

"That will do," replied Richard of Woodville; "they must set out at once."

A moment after, the horses were brought round, with the mule which Ella Brune had ridden from Nieuport, and placing her carefully thereon, the young knight gave some orders to his men in a low tone, added some money for their expenses, and with a kindly adieu to Ella, saw them depart. He then directed two of his archers to superintend the immediate removal of his baggage to the apartments which had been assigned him in the Graevensteen, to see to the care of the horses, and to rejoin him without loss of time. After which, followed by the rest of his attendants, he took his way back to the old castle of the counts of Flanders, and sought the chamber in the basement of one of the towers, which had been pointed out for his own by the Count of Charolois.

At the door stood a stout man-at-arms, whom Woodville had placed there that night after his meeting with Sir John Grey; for it may be necessary to mention here, what we did not pause to notice before, that the young knight had returned with Dyram to the Graevensteen to seek for his men, as soon as he heard of the danger which menaced poor Ella Brune.

Opening the door of the chamber, Richard of Woodville went in, and found Dyram seated at the table with his head leaning on his arms. He moved but slightly when his master entered, and Woodville, casting himself into a seat opposite, gazed at him for a moment with a stern and angry brow.

"Lookup, sir," he said at length; "in your terror and haste to remedy the evil you have caused, you have spoken too much not to speak more. You once boasted of telling truth. Tell it now, as the only means of escaping punishment."

"Is she saved?" asked Ned Dyram, raising his head, and gazing in his young master's face with a look of eager anxiety. "Is she saved? I care for nought else."

"Yes, she is saved," replied Richard of Woodville; "but with peril to her, and peril to me. I found her with her hands tied; and what may be the result, no one yet can tell. And so you love her!" he continued, gazing upon him thoughtfully. "A glorious means, indeed, to prove your love!"

"I have been deceived," said Dyram; "the villain cheated me. He promised that she should be mine; and when I told him of the day and hour when the assembly was to take place, thinking that I kept the power in my own hands, so long as I did not mention where they were to meet, they laughed me to scorn, and told me they wanted to know no more."

"They!" exclaimed Richard of Woodville. "They! whom do you mean?"

"Brother Paul," replied Dyram, hesitating--"brother Paul and--Well, it matters not, if you learn not from me, you will learn from others; so I will say it first myself--brother Paul and Simeon of Roydon."

"Simeon of Roydon!" exclaimed the young knight, starting up, and lifting his hand as if to strike him; "and have you been villain and traitor enough to betray this poor girl into the hands of that base and pitiful knave? By the Lord that lives, I have a mind to have you scourged through the streets of Ghent, as a warning to all treacherous varlets."

Dyram bent his brows upon him with a bold scowl, answering in a low muttering tone, "You dare not!"

The words had scarcely quitted his lips, when, with a blow on the side of the head, Richard of Woodville dashed him to the ground. The man started up, and drew his dagger half out of the sheath; but his master, who had recovered from his anger the instant the blow was given, so far at least as to be sorry that it had been struck at all, looked at him with a smile of cold contempt, and raising his voice, exclaimed, "Without, there!"

The archer instantly appeared at the door; and, pointing to Dyram, the young knight said, "Take away that knave, and put him forth from the castle, and from the band. He is not one of my own people, and unfit to be with them. He is a base and dishonest traitor, who betrays his trust. Away with him!"

Dyram glared upon him for a moment without moving, then thrust his dagger back into the sheath, raised his hand with the right finger extended, and shook it at Richard of Woodville, with his teeth hard set together, and a significant frown upon his brow. Then turning to the door, he passed the archer, saying, in a menacing tone, "Touch me not," and quitted the room.