"But that is impossible," she exclaimed, "monstrous!..." "Monstrous, as you say, Madonna," he rejoined with a smile. "But do you feel equal to scaling the city walls?" "Oh!" "I fear me that that would be the only thing to do, if indeed you desire to be in Brussels this night ... and even then, I doubt but that they would bring us back." "Then, Messire," she asked, trying to appear as calm, as detached, as he seemed to be, "do you mean to tell me that we must spend the night--here?" "It is a pretty city..." he suggested. "That we cannot now start for Brussels?" "Impossible. The Schout of Dendermonde hath refused to allow us out of this city until we have proved to his satisfaction that we are neither spies of the Prince of Orange, nor emissaries of the Queen of England." "You should have seen to it, Messire," she said haughtily, "that all our papers were in order. This is an exceedingly mortifying and unpleasant contretemps." "I did not know the French word for it, Madonna," he rejoined with exasperating good-humour, "but I know that it must be somewhat unpleasant ... for you." She tried to meet his glance, without that tell-tale blush spreading immediately over her cheeks: and she could have cried with vexation when she saw that the merry twinkle was more apparent in his grey eyes than it had been since their wedding day. "I believe," she said slowly, "that you, Messire, have devised this scheme from beginning to end. You neglected your papers purposely--purposely you quarrelled with the provost at the gate--purposely you have caused me to be detained in this miserable city...." "A pretty city, Madonna," he interposed imperturbably, "the church was built three hundred years ago ... the Cloth Hall..." "And now you are impertinent," she declared hotly. "Impertinent," he said quietly, even though the merry, gently mocking glance still lingered in his eyes, "impertinent because I decline to look on the present situation as a tragedy? How can I do that, Madonna, since it gives me the opportunity of spending an evening alone with you?" "You might have done that yesterday and saved me much humiliation," she retorted. "Yesterday I was a fool, Madonna," he said. "To-day I have become a wise man." "What hath changed you?" "Ten minutes of your company in the dining-hall last night."