The soldiers obeyed, wondering somewhat, and the Mare scrambled to her feet.  For a moment she stood looking at her deliverer.  Then crying, “We shall met again, Lysbeth van Hout!” suddenly she turned and sped up a dyke at extraordinary speed.  In a few seconds there was nothing to be seen of her but a black spot upon the white landscape, and presently she had vanished altogether.

“Gallop as you will, Mare, I shall catch you yet,” screamed Black Meg after her.  “And you too, my pretty little liar, who have cheated me out of a dozen florins.  Wait till you are up before the Inquisition as a heretic—­for that’s where you’ll end.  No fine Spanish lover will save you then.  So you have gone to the Spanish, have you, and thrown over your fat-faced burgher; well, you will have enough of Spaniards before you have done with them, I can tell you.”

Twice had Montalvo tried to stop this flood of furious eloquence, which had become personal and might prove prejudicial to his interests, but without avail.  Now he adopted other measures.

“Seize her,” he shouted to two of the soldiers; “that’s it; now hold her under water in that hole till I tell you to let her up again.”

They obeyed, but it took all three of them to carry out the order, for Black Meg fought and bit like a wild cat, until at last she was thrust into the icy moat head downwards.  When at length she was released, soaked and shivering, she crept off silently enough, but the look of fury which she cast at Montalvo and Lysbeth drew from the captain a remark that perhaps it would have been as well to have kept her under water two minutes longer.

“Now, sergeant,” he added, in a genial voice, “it is a cold night, and this has been a troublesome business for a feast-day, so here’s something for you and your watch to warm yourselves with when you go off duty,” and he handed him what in those days was a very handsome present.  “By the way,” he said, as the men saluted him gratefully, “perhaps you will do me a favour.  It is only to take this black horse of mine to his stable and harness that grey trooper nag to the sledge instead, as I wish to go the round of the moat, and my beast is tired.”

Again the men saluted and set to work to change the horses, whereon Lysbeth, guessing her cavalier’s purpose, turned as though to fly away, for her skates were still upon her feet.  But he was watching.

“Senora,” he said in a quiet voice, “I think that you gave me the promise of your company for the rest of this evening, and I am certain,” he added with a slight bow, “that you are a lady whom nothing would induce to tell an untruth.  Had I not been sure of that I should scarcely have accepted your evidence so readily just now.”

Lysbeth winced visibly.  “I thought, Senor, that you were going to return to the fete.”

“I do not remember saying so, Senora, and as a matter of fact I have pickets to visit.  Do not be afraid, the drive is charming in this moonlight, and afterwards perhaps you will extend your hospitality so far as to ask me to supper at your house.”