# The Silent Prince/Chapter 13

CHAPTER XIII.
THE MINISTREL'S MESSAGE.
The Prince of Orange sat alone in his private reception-room. He looked anxious and depressed, as a man might well look to whose arm a whole nation was clinging. In his dark hair gleamed many silver threads, and his face was wrinkled and worn, although he was only thirty years of age. The Regent had refused to accept his resignation, and he was placed in an equivocal position. Still, with the persistence of his intense nature, he struggled manfully to do what he believed to be his duty. “For Fatherland and conscience” was ever his motto.
While he was reflecting upon unhappy the condition of his countrymen, a gentle knock sounded upon the door.
“Come in!” said William wearily.
“I am sorry to disturb you, dear master,” said Conrad Chenoweth, who was sincerely devoted to the Prince's person and interests, “but Francis Junius has arrived in disguise, and craves an immediate audience with your Excellency.”
“Admit him at once,” replied William.
​In a moment this remarkable Protestant preacher and the greatest prince of his times were face to face. It was their first meeting. William, always courteous, always hospitable and generous, stretched out his hand and said graciously: “I bid you welcome. Seigneur Junius. But are you not courting death to venture into Brussels, the paradise of the Catholics?”
"It is a paradise guarded by many flaming swords," was the quick reply. “As to my safety, noble Prince, I give little heed to that. Martyrdom will sooner or later be my portion. I only ask that my life may prove to have been a stone in the great temple of freedom which, if God will, shall be built in the Netherlands.”
“You have just returned from Germany, I believe,” said William. “What success did you have with those in authority?”
“None at all!” returned Junius gloomily. “The Lutheran princes are narrow and bigoted. They will not help the Calvinists or any one who differs in the least from them. They fight not against anti-Christ, but against the brother who praises God in a different form of words. This faith is like a stagnant pool, which gives life to none.”
“Why is it, Seigneur, that in times like these, when the Protestants ought to hold together, they are divided into sects? Those of the same faith ought to be united.”
​“Gracious Prince, it is for you and King Philip to teach the people of the Netherlands the spirit of tolerance. The people have reached an important crisis in their lives. They look to you to deliver them from the hand of the destroyer. The time is ripe for action. The voice of freedom, that mighty voice of nations, is ever ‘God and the people,’ and it has always confessed its deliverer in Him. In the name of the Lord of Hosts, I bring you His message to-day, ‘Go forward!’”
“The nobles are already doing that,” replied William. “They have risen to right the wrongs of the nation.”
“The nobles!” said Junius contemptuously. “What are they doing? Banqueting, debauching, uttering incautious words which will bring them to ruin, and acting like children just broken loose from parental authority. Some one has truly said that ‘the nobles are but the gilded hands on the outside of the dial—the hour to strike will be determined by the obscure but weighty movements within.’ Your Excellency, the hands of the clock already point to the hour. The people are calling for Father William to lead them out of their Egypt into the promised land.”
“If I understand you aright,” said the cautious Prince, “you are asking me to lead a revolt against lawful authority.”
Junius fixed his keen eyes on the troubled face ​of the Prince of Orange. "Pardon my frankness, most illustrious Prince, but are you a Netherlander, and speak of tyranny as lawful authority? Tolerance is good in times of peace, but when public liberty is attacked, to pardon the crime is to share it. It was Luther’s theory that persecution should be borne with dumb resignation. The disciples of Calvin know how to die like martyrs, after having striven like men."
Ignoring the implied rebuke, William said calmly, "Seigneur Junius, what can be the outcome of a reformation which is already divided against itself?"
A sad look came into the preacher’s face. "I do not wonder that this question has suggested itself to your mind. No loyalty to a system should prevent us from admitting its serious defects. The Reformation, being largely the work of man, has many defects. I deplore this fact as much as you, but I firmly believe that the day is coming when unity will prevail. Do I believe that armed resistance will be successful? Certainly I believe so, for even tyranny has its limitations. The Church of Rome fights not against nations, but against free thought. She will find to her cost that she can never slay what is immortal. But I will not weary you longer, gracious Prince," said Junius, rising. "May God in His wisdom guide you in all your decisions."
"May God in His wisdom guide you." Page 104.
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​“Your arguments, Seigneur, shall receive my careful attention,” replied William. “I beg of you to incur no needless risks in your zeal for the cause. Farewell.”
Junius passed into an ante-room, where the young advocate helped him into his disguise. With a white wig, long white mustache, and a harp slung over his shoulder, he presented the figure common in those days, of a travelling minstrel.
“The servants are anxious for an exhibition of your skill as a musician,” said Conrad. “Do you think it would be wise to gratify them?”
“By all means!” was the reply.
They found the servants assembled in the spacious hall. The aged minstrel struck a few chords on the harp, and then sang in a rich baritone voice a stirring song very popular at this time:
“We have taken our land from the sea, Its fields are all yellow with grain; Its meadows are green on the lea, And now shall we give it to Spain?
No, no, no, no!
“We have planted the faith that is pure, That faith to the end we’ll maintain; For the word and the truth must endure; Shall we bow to the Pope and to Spain?
No, no, no, no!
“Shall we give up our long cherished right? Make the blood of our fathers in vain? Do we fear any tyrant to fight? Shall we hold out our hands to the chain?
No, no, no, no!
“Our ships are on every sea, Our honor has never a stain, Our law and our commerce are free, Are we slaves for the tyrant of Spain?
No, no, no, no!
Great enthusiasm greeted this patriotic song, and the minstrel was eagerly besought to sing again, but he steadfastly refused, and went his way unrecognized.
Meanwhile, in another part of Brussels, Baron Berlaymont was taking his nephew to task.
“My dear Hugo,” said the Baron, “I have noticed for some time, with considerable surprise and displeasure, your growing intimacy with the young advocate Chenoweth. I have been waiting for your accustomed good sense to assert itself, and show you that this young man was not a suitable companion for you. You will please me greatly by breaking off this acquaintance at once.”
There was a striking resemblance between uncle and nephew despite the difference in their ages. But the expression of these two faces was totally unlike. On the face of the “Tiger of Brussels” lay the shadow of fierce, unholy passions, which neither his self-command nor his freezing hauteur could conceal. Hugo’s face was as frank and open as the day.
“Conrad Chenoweth is well spoken of,” said the ​lad, "and everyone concedes that he is a loyal patriot."
"He is a Protestant," replied the Baron, "and that ought to be enough for you to know. To be sure, he may possess good qualities, but this ought not to blind our eyes to the fact that he is a heretic. It is our duty to destroy heretics root and branch. Being under the patronage of that cosmopolitan, William of Orange, we have been obliged so far to tolerate such men."
"But," persisted Hugo, "if heretics lead honest, respectable lives, ought they not to be tolerated as well as Catholics, many of whom lead dissolute lives?"
The Baron regarded his nephew pityingly. "You are young, my boy, and are not conversant with the philosophy of the age. Did you never hear it said that 'the measure of every man is his belief'? We should judge men by their opinions, as well as by their actions. However, if you are fond of this young man's society, there is one condition on which you may continue it: Chancellor Maas is anxious to learn the advocate's conversation and habits; you could help us very much by drawing the young man out in reference to the plans of the heretics, their meetings, and the hiding-place of their preacher Junius. In this manner you might render the Church a signal service."
"Uncle," cried the boy passionately, "do you ​ask me to be a spy? Do you suppose that I will stoop to such meanness? I would rather never see Conrad Chenoweth's face again than to play the part of Judas.”
“But I desire you to help the cause of the Church by exposing the doings of the heretics.”
“That I will never do!”
“Boy, do you dare oppose me?” said the Baron in hoarse tones. “Beware how you thwart me! I have always been gentle with you, but it is not best to trifle with me.”
“I do not wish to oppose you, uncle, but my conscience forbids my engaging in such dishonorable duties.”
“It is a pity that your conscience does not bid you render me implicit obedience.”
Uncle and nephew stood looking at each other. There was something so noble and spiritual in the lad's beautiful face that the elder man's eyes fell before that searching, sorrowful gaze. At length the Baron said, “Hugo, you know my weakness. I cannot remain angry with you for long. Let us drop the matter and the advocate. At least you will respect my wishes so far as to cease all intercourse with that heretic?”
“Certainly, uncle,” answered Hugo with a sigh of regret.