A strange hush hung in the air--the hush of a Sunday afternoon when a big and peaceful city is at rest--a hush in strange and almost weird contrast to the din which had shaken up the very atmosphere during the past two days. Only from the castle-yard down below there comes the sad sound of groans and sighs of pain, and an occasional call for "donna Lenora!" with the cool, soft hands and the gentle voice, the ministering angel of goodness and consolation. "Grete," queried Lenora abruptly, "dost love me truly?" "With my whole heart, noble lady," replied the child simply. "Then, if thou lovest me, didst pray at Mass this morning for the success of our cause and the confusion of those abominable rebels?" Grete made no reply, and anon a low, suppressed sob caused Lenora to say, not unkindly: "Thy heart is with the rebels, Grete." "I know most of their leaders, noble lady," murmured the girl, through her tears. "They are brave, fine men. When I think of those who surely must die after this, I feel as if my heart must break with sorrow and with pity." "Didst know them well?" "Aye, noble lady. They used to come to the ’Three Weavers.’" "The ’Three Weavers,’ Grete?" "Aye! my father kept the tavern, here in Ghent.... The noble seigniors of the city and the Spanish officers of the garrison all used to come to us in the afternoons.... Messire Jan van Migrode, the Chief Sheriff, Messire Lievin van Deynse and the seigneur de Beauvoir, they all came regularly. And ... and Messire Mark van Rycke," she added under her breath, "him they call Leatherface." "My husband, Grete," murmured Lenora. "I know it, noble lady." "Didst know then that Messire Mark van Rycke was Leatherface?" "Not till yesterday, noble lady ... not till the men spoke of it and said that the mysterious Leatherface was the leader of the rebels ... and that he was the son of the High-Bailiff of Ghent, Messire Mark van Rycke...." "Thou didst know him, too, then as Leatherface?" "Aye, noble lady," said Grete quietly, "he saved my life and my sister’s. I would give mine to save him now." "Saved thy life? How? When?" "Only a few days ago, noble lady," murmured the child, speaking with a great effort at self-control. The recollection of that awful night brought fresh terror to her heart. But Lenora’s brows contracted now in puzzlement. A few days ago? Mark was courting her then.... "I do not understand," she said impatiently, "a few days ago Leatherface ... Messire Mark van Rycke ... was in Ghent ... I was betrothed to him on the seventh day of this month...." "And ’tis on that night he saved my life ... and Katrine’s ... aye! and saved us from worse than death...."