The Scarlet Pimpernel Series – All 35 Titles in One Edition. Emma Orczy
Читать онлайн книгу.
Councillor Beresteyn was an avowed patron of Frans Hals and the hour had not yet struck in civilized Europe when wealth would go hat in hand bowing to genius and soliciting its recognition. In this year of grace 1624 genius had still to hold the hat and to acknowledge if not to solicit the kindly favours of wealth.
Nicolaes Beresteyn did not know exactly how to greet the man with whom he had a few hours ago bandied arguments in the tap room of a tavern, and whom — to tell the truth — he had expressly come to find. The complaisant nod which he had bestowed on Frans Hals did not somehow seem appropriate for that swaggering young knight of industry, who looked down on him from the high eminence of the model's platform so that Nicolaes was obliged to look well up, if he wished to meet his glance at all.
It was the obscure soldier of fortune who relieved the pompous burgher of his embarrassment.
"Fate hath evidently not meant that we should remain strangers, sir," he said lightly, "this meeting after last night's pleasing amenities is indeed unexpected."
"And most welcome, sir, as far as I am concerned," rejoined Nicolaes pleasantly. "My name is Nicolaes Beresteyn and right glad am I to renew our acquaintance of last night. I had no idea that my friend Hals could command so perfect a model. No wonder that his pictures have become the talk of the town."
He turned back to Hals now with a resumption of his patronizing manner.
"I came to confirm my father's suggestion, my good Hals, that you should paint his portrait and at the price you named yourself. The officers of St. Joris' Guild are also desirous, as I understand, of possessing yet another group from your brush."
"I shall be honoured," said the artist simply.
"'Tis many an ugly face you'll have to paint within the next few months, my friend," added Diogenes lightly.
"My father is reckoned one of the handsomest men in Holland," retorted Beresteyn with becoming dignity.
"And the owner of the finest tulip bulbs in the land," said the other imperturbably. "I heard him tell last night that he had just given more florins for one bit of dried onion than I have ever fingered in the whole course of my life."
"Fortune, sir, has not dealt with you hitherto in accordance with your deserts."
"No! 'tis my sternest reproach against her."
"There is always a tide, sir, in a man's fortunes."
"Mine I feel, sir, is rising at your call."
There was a moment's pause now while the two men looked on one another eye to eye, appraising one another, each counting on his opponent's worth. Then Nicolaes suddenly turned back to Frans Hals.
"My good Hals," he said, "might I crave a favour from your friendship?"
"I am at your service, mynheer, now as always as you know," murmured the artist, who indeed was marvelling what favour so illustrious a gentleman could ask of a penniless painter of portraits.
"'Tis but a small matter to you," rejoined Nicolaes, "but it would be of great service to me. I desire to hold private conversation with this gentleman. Could I do so in your house without attracting anybody's attention?"
"Easily, sir. This room though none too comfortable is at your disposal. I have plenty of work to do in another part of my house. No one will come in here. You will be quite undisturbed."
"I am infinitely obliged to you. 'Tis but half-an-hour's privacy I desire ... providing this gentleman will grant me the interview."
"Like my friend Hals," rejoined Diogenes suavely, "I am, sir, at your service. The tides are rising around me, I feel them swelling even as I speak. I have an overwhelming desire to ride on the crest of the waves, rather than to duck under them against my will."
"I hope this intrusion will not retard your work too much, my good Hals," said Beresteyn with somewhat perfunctory solicitude when he saw that the artist finally put his brushes and palette on one side, and in an abstracted manner began to dust a couple of ricketty chairs and then place them close to the stove.
"Oh!" interposed Diogenes airily, "the joy of being of service to so bountiful a patron will more than compensate Frans Hals for this interruption to his work. Am I not right, old friend?" he added with just a soupçon of seriousness in the mocking tones of his voice.
Hals murmured a few words under his breath which certainly seemed to satisfy Beresteyn for the latter made no further attempt at apology, and only watched with obvious impatience the artist's slow progress out of the room.
As soon as the heavy oaken door had fallen-to behind the master of this house, Beresteyn turned with marked eagerness to Diogenes.
"Now, sir," he said, "will you accord me your close attention for a moment. On my honour it will be to your advantage so to do."
"And to your own, I take it, sir," rejoined Diogenes, as he stepped down from the elevated platform and sat himself astride one of the ricketty chairs facing his interlocutor who had remained standing. "To your own too, sir, else you had not spent half an hour in that vervloekte weather last night pacing an insalubrious street in order to find out where I lodged."
Nicolaes bit his lip with vexation.
"You saw me?" he asked.
"I have eyes at the back of my head," replied the young man. "I knew that you followed me in company with a friend all the way from the door of the 'Lame Cow' and that you were not far off when I announced my intention of sleeping under the stars and asking my friend Frans Hals for some breakfast later on."
Beresteyn had quickly recovered his equanimity.
"I have no cause to deny it," he said.
"None," assented Diogenes.
"Something, sir, in your manner and your speech last night aroused my interest. Surely you would not take offence at that."
"Certainly not."
"And hearing you speak, a certain instinct prompted me to try and not lose sight of you if I could by some means ascertain where you lodged. My friend and I did follow you: I own it, and we witnessed a little scene which I confess did you infinite credit."
Diogenes merely bowed his head this time in acknowledgment.
"It showed, sir," resumed Nicolaes after a slight pause, "that you are chivalrous to a fault, brave and kindly: and these are just the three qualities which I — even like your illustrious namesake — have oft sought for in vain."
"Shall we add, also for the sake of truth, sir," said Diogenes pleasantly, "that I am obviously penniless, presumably unscrupulous and certainly daring, and that these are just the three qualities which you ... and your friend ... most require at the present moment in the man whom you wish to pay for certain services."
"You read my thoughts, sir."
"Have I not said that I have eyes at the back of my head?"
And Nicolaes Beresteyn wondered if that second pair of eyes were as merry and mocking and withal as inscrutable as those that met his now.
"Well," he said as if with suddenly conceived determination, "again I see no cause why I should deny it. Yes, sir, you have made a shrewd guess. I have need of your services, of your chivalry and of your valour and ... well, yes," he added after an instant's hesitation, "of your daring and your paucity of scruples too. As for your penury, why, sir, if you like, its pangs need worry you no longer."
"It all sounds very tempting, sir," said Diogenes with his most winning smile, "suppose now that we put preliminaries aside and proceed more directly with our business."
"As you will."
Nicolaes Beresteyn now took the other chair and brought it close to his interlocutor. Then he sat down and sinking his voice to a whisper he began:
"I will be as brief and to the point as I can, sir. There are secrets as you know the knowledge of which is oft-times dangerous. Such an one was spoken of in the cathedral last night after watch-night service by