e evening after the decision he had attended
a splendid banquet with Romero, Vargas, Mendoza, Tassis, and the next
morning the prisoners, who had fallen into the hands of his men, were
brought before him.

He had left the examination of the students, citizens' sons, and peasants
to his lieutenant; but there were also three noblemen, from whom large
ransoms could be obtained. The two older ones had granted what he asked
and been led away; the third, a tall man in knightly armor, was left
last.

Ulrich had personally encountered the latter. The prisoner, mounted upon
a tall steed, had pressed him very closely; nay, the Eletto's victory was
not decided, until a musket-shot had stretched the other's horse on the
ground.

The knight now carried his arm in a sling. In the centre of his coat of
mail and on the shoulder-pieces of his armor, the ensigns armorial of a
noble family were embossed.

"You were dragged out from under your horse," said the Eletto to the
knight. "You wield an excellent blade."

He had spoken in Spanish, but the other shrugged his shoulders, and
answered in the German language "I don't understand Spanish."

"Are you a German?" Ulrich now asked in his native tongue. "How do you
happen to be among the Netherland rebels?"

The nobleman looked at the Eletto in surprise. But the latter, giving him
no time for reflection, continued "I understand German; your answer?"

"I had business in Antwerp?"

"What business?"

"That is my affair."

"Very well. Then we will drop courtesy and adopt a different tone."

"Nay, I am the vanquished party, and will answer you."

"Well then?"

"I had stuffs to buy."

"Are you a merchant?"

The knight shook his head and answered, smiling: "We have rebuilt our
castle since the fire."

"And now you need hangings and artistic stuff. Did you expect to capture
them from us?"

"Scarcely, sir."

"Then what brought you among our enemies?"

"Baron Floyon belongs to my mother's family. He marched against you, and
as I approved his cause. . . ."

"And pillage pleases you, you felt disposed to break a lance."

"Quite right."

"And you have done your cause no harm. Where do you live?"

"Surely you know: in Germany."

"Germany is a very large country."

"In the Black Forest in Swabia."

"And your name?"

The prisoner made no reply; but Ulrich fixed his eyes upon the coat of
arms on the knight's armor, looked at him more steadily, and a strange
smile hovere