ty. Well,
to save the blood of another she had bought, and in her own blood and
happiness, or in that of those dear to her, assuredly she must pay,
however cruel and unjust might be the price.

Such were the thoughts that passed through Lysbeth's mind as the strong
Flemish gelding lumbered forward, dragging the sledge at the same steady
pace over rough ice and smooth. And all the while Montalvo behind her
was chatting pleasantly about this matter and that; telling her of
the orange groves in Spain, of the Court of the Emperor Charles,
of adventures in the French wars, and many other things, to which
conversation she made such answer as courtesy demanded and no more.
What would Dirk think, she was wondering, and her cousin, Pieter van de
Werff, whose good opinion she valued, and all the gossips of Leyden? She
only prayed that they might not have missed her, or at least that they
took it for granted that she had gone home.

On this point, however, she was soon destined to be undeceived, for
presently, trudging over the snow-covered ice and carrying his useless
skates in his hand, they met a young man whom she knew as Dirk's fellow
apprentice. On seeing them he stopped in front of the sledge in such a
position that the horse, a steady and a patient animal, pulled up of its
own accord.

"Is the Jufvrouw Lysbeth van Hout there?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes," she replied, but before she could say more Montalvo broke in,
inquiring what might be the matter.

"Nothing," he answered, "except that she was lost and Dirk van Goorl, my
friend, send me to look for her this way while he took the other."

"Indeed. Then, noble sir, perhaps you will find the Heer Dirk van Goorl
and tell him that the Senora, his cousin, is merely enjoying an evening
drive, and that if he comes to her house in an hour's time he will find
her safe and sound, and with her myself, the Count Juan de Montalvo,
whom she has honoured with an invitation to supper."

Then, before the astonished messenger could answer; before, indeed,
Lysbeth could offer any explanation of his words, Montalvo lashed up
the horse and left him standing on the moat bewildered, his cap off and
scratching his head.

After this they proceeded on a journey which seemed to Lysbeth almost
interminable. When the circuit of the walls was finished, Montalvo
halted at one of the shut gates, and, calling to the guard within,
summoned them to open. This caused delay and investigation, for at