Zorrillo bore him ill-will, Ulrich read it in his eyes; but he made him a captain, and the man performed his duty as quartermaster in the most exemplary manner.  Florette wished to tell him that the Eletto was her son, but the latter begged her to wait till his power was more firmly established, and how could she refuse her darling anything?  She had grieved deeply, very deeply, but this mood soon passed away, and now she could be happy in Ulrich’s society, and forget sorrow and heartache.

What joy it was to have him back, to be loved by him!  Where was there a more affectionate son, a pleasanter home than hers?  The velvet and brocade dresses belonging to the Baroness de Hierges had fallen to the Eletto.  How young Florette looked in them!  When she glanced into the mirror, she was astonished at herself.

Two beautiful riding-horses for ladies’ use and elegant trappings had been found in the baron’s stable.  Ulrich had told her of it, and the desire to ride with him instantly arose in her mind.  She had always accompanied Grandgagnage, and when she now went out, attired in a long velvet riding-habit, with floating plumes in her dainty little hat, beside her son, she soon noticed how admiringly even the hostile citizens and their wives looked after them.  It was a pretty sight to behold the handsome soldier, full of pride and power, galloping on the most spirited stallion, beside the beautiful, white-haired woman, whose eyes sparkled with vivacious light.

Zorrillo often met them, when they passed the guildhall, and Florette always gave him a friendly greeting with her whip, but he intentionally averted his eyes or if he could not avoid it, coldly returned her recognition.

This wounded her deeply, and when alone, it often happened that she sunk into gloomy reverie and, with an aged, weary face, gazed fixedly at the floor.  But Ulrich’s approach quickly cheered and rejuvenated her.

Florette now knew what her son had experienced in life, what had moved his heart, his soul, and could not contradict him, when he told her that power was the highest prize of existence.

The Eletto’s ambitious mind could not be satisfied with little Aalst.  The mutineers had been outlawed by an edict from Brussels, but the king had nothing to do with this measure; the shameful proclamation was only intended to stop the wailing of the Netherlanders.  They would have to pay dearly for it!  There was a great scheme in view.

The Antwerp of those days was called “as rich as the Indies;” the project under consideration was the possibility of manoeuvring this abode of wealth into the hands of the mutineers; the whole Spanish army in the Netherlands being about to follow the example of the regiments in Aalst.

The mother was the friend and counsellor of the son.  At every step he took he heard her opinion, and often yielded his own in its favor.  This interest in the direction of great events occupied the sibyl’s versatile mind.  When, on many occasions, pros and tons were equal in weight, she brought out the cards, and this oracle generally turned the scale.