CHAPTER XXVIII.

A considerable, but hastily-collected army of patriots had been utterly routed at Tisnacq by a small force of disciplined Spaniards.

Ulrich had assisted his countrymen to gain the speedy victory, and had been greeted by his old colonel, the brave Romero, the bold cavalry-commander, Mendoza, and other distinguished officers as one of themselves.  Since these aristocrats had become mutineers, the Eletto was a brother, and they did not disdain to secure his cooperation in the attack they were planning upon Antwerp.

He had shown great courage under fire, and wherever he appeared, his countrymen held out their hands to him, vowing obedience and loyalty unto death.

Ulrich felt as if he were walking on air, mere existence was a joy to him.  No prince could revel in the blissful consciousness of increasing power, more fully than he.  The 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.”