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 Leyden for its courage and staying power.  What interested Lysbeth most, however, was to discover that the charioteer was none other than Pieter van de Werff, though now when she thought of it, she remembered he had told her that his sledge was named the Badger.  In his choice of passenger she noted, too, not without a smile, that he showed his cautious character, disdainful of any immediate glory, so long as the end in view could be attained.  For there in the sleigh sat no fine young lady, decked out in brave attire, who might be supposed to look at him with tender eyes, but a little fair-haired mate aged nine, who was in fact his sister.  As he explained afterwards, the rules provided that a lady passenger must be carried, but said nothing of her age and weight.