any one to whom they took a fancy to
travel in their sledges, in practise they only sought the company of
young women with whom they were on the best of terms, and who were
already warned of their intention.

In an instant these thoughts flashed through her mind, but all she did
was to murmur something about the Heer van Goorl----

"Has already given his consent, like an unselfish gentleman," broke in
Captain Juan tendering her his hand.

Now, without absolutely making a scene, which then, as to-day, ladies
considered an ill-bred thing to do, there was no escape, since half
Leyden gathered at these "sledge choosings," and many eyes were on her
and the Count. Therefore, because she must, Lysbeth took the proferred
hand, and was led to the sledge, catching, as she passed to it through
the throng, more than one sour look from the men and more than one
exclamation of surprise, real or affected, on the lips of the ladies
of her acquaintance. These manifestations, however, put her upon her
mettle. So determining that at least she would not look sullen or
ridiculous, she began to enter into the spirit of the adventure, and
smiled graciously while the Captain Montalvo wrapped a magnificent apron
of wolf skins about her knees.

When all was ready her charioteer took the reins and settled himself
upon the little seat behind the sleigh, which was then led into line by
a soldier servant.

"Where is the course, Senor?" Lysbeth asked, hoping that it would be a
short one.

But in this she was to be disappointed, for he answered:

"Up to the little Quarkel Mere, round the island in the middle of it,
and back to this spot, something over a league in all. Now, Senora,
speak to me no more at present, but hold fast and have no fear, for at
least I drive well, and my horse is sure-footed and roughed for ice.
This is a race that I would give a hundred gold pieces to win, since
your countrymen, who contend against me, have sworn that I shall lose
it, and I tell you at once, Senora, that grey horse will press me hard."

Following the direction of his glance, Lysbeth's eye lit upon the next
sledge. It was small, fashioned and painted to resemble a grey badger,
that silent, stubborn, and, if molested, savage brute, which will not
loose its grip until the head is hacked from off its body. The horse,
which matched it well in colour, was of Flemish breed; rather a
raw-boned animal, with strong quarters and an ugly head, but renowned in
Le