"January 16.-Strong ways and steep, and the mountain girls so girded up, as from their armpits to their waist is but a handful.
Of all the garbs I yet have seen, the most unlovely.
"January 18.-In the midst of life we are in death.Oh! dear Margaret, I thought I had lost thee.Here I lie in pain and dole, and shall write thee that, which read you it in a romance ye should cry, 'Most improbable!' And so still wondering that I am alive to write it, and thanking for it God and the saints, this is what befell thy Gerard.Yestreen I wearied of being shut up in litter, and of the mule's slow pace, and so went forward; and being, I know not why, strangely full of spirit and hope, as Ihave heard befall some men when on trouble's brink, seemed to tread on air, and soon distanced them all.Presently I came to two roads, and took the larger; I should have taken the smaller.After travelling a good half-hour, I found my error, and returned; and deeming my company had long passed by, pushed bravely on, but Icould not overtake them; and small wonder, as you shall hear.Then I was anxious, and ran, but bare was the road of those I sought;and night came down, and the wild beasts a-foot, and I bemoaned my folly; also I was hungered.The moon rose clear and bright exceedingly, and presently a little way off the road I saw a tall windmill.'Come,' said I, 'mayhap the miller will take ruth on me.' Near the mill was a haystack, and scattered about were store of little barrels; but lo they were not flour-barrels, but tar-barrels, one or two, and the rest of spirits, Brant vein and Schiedam; I knew them momently, having seen the like in Holland.Iknocked at the mill-door, but none answered.I lifted the latch, and the door opened inwards.I went in, and gladly, for the night was fine but cold, and a rime on the trees, which were a kind of lofty sycamores.There was a stove, but black; I lighted it with some of the hay and wood, for there was a great pile of wood outside, and I know not how, I went to sleep.Not long had Islept, I trow, when hearing a noise, I awoke; and there were a dozen men around me, with wild faces, and long black hair, and black sparkling eyes."Catherine."Oh, my poor boy! those black-haired ones do still scare me to look on.""I made my excuses in such Italian as I knew, and eking out by signs.They grinned.'I had lost my company.' They grinned.'I was an hungered.' Still they grinned, and spoke to one another in a tongue I knew not.At last one gave me a piece of bread and a tin mug of wine, as I thought, but it was spirits neat.I made a wry face and asked for water: then these wild men laughed a horrible laugh.I thought to fly, but looking towards the door it was bolted with two enormous bolts of iron, and now first, as I ate my bread, I saw it was all guarded too, and ribbed with iron.My blood curdled within me, and yet I could not tell thee why; but hadst thou seen the faces, wild, stupid, and ruthless.I mumbled my bread, not to let them see I feared them; but oh, it cost me to swallow it and keep it in me.Then it whirled in my brain, was there no way to escape? Said I, 'They will not let me forth by the door; these be smugglers or robbers.' So I feigned drowsiness, and taking out two batzen said, 'Good men, for our Lady's grace let me lie on a bed and sleep, for I am faint with travel.' They nodded and grinned their horrible grin, and bade one light a lanthorn and lead me.He took me up a winding staircase, up, up, and I saw no windows, but the wooden walls were pierced like a barbican tower, and methinks for the same purpose, and through these slits I got glimpses of the sky, and thought, 'Shall I e'er see thee again?'
He took me to the very top of the mill, and there was a room with a heap of straw in one corner and many empty barrels, and by the wall a truckle bed.He pointed to it, and went downstairs heavily, taking the light, for in this room was a great window, and the moon came in bright.I looked out to see, and lo, it was so high that even the mill sails at their highest came not up to my window by some feet, but turned very slow and stately underneath, for wind there was scarce a breath; and the trees seemed silver filagree made by angel craftsmen.My hope of flight was gone.
"But now, those wild faces being out of sight, I smiled at my fears: what an if they were ill men, would it profit them to hurt me? Natheless, for caution against surprise, I would put the bed against the door.I went to move it, but could not.It was free at the head, but at the foot fast clamped with iron to the floor.So I flung my psaltery on the bed, but for myself made a layer of straw at the door, so as none could open on me unawares.And Ilaid my sword ready to my hand.And said my prayers for thee and me, and turned to sleep.
"Below they drank and made merry.And hearing this gave me confidence.Said I, 'Out of sight, out of mind.Another hour and the good Schiedam will make them forget that I am here.' And so Icomposed myself to sleep.And for some time could not for the boisterous mirth below.At last I dropped off.How long I slept Iknew not; but I woke with a start: the noise had ceased below, and the sudden silence woke me.And scarce was I awake, when sudden the truckle bed was gone with a loud clang all but the feet, and the floor yawned, and I heard my psaltery fall and break to atoms, deep, deep, below the very floor of the mill.It had fallen into a well.And so had I done, lying where it lay."Margaret shuddered and put her face in her hands.But speedily resumed.