"No! no! he will not guess. He only saw Laurence twice--a fortnight ago when I took him up to Brussels and presented him to señor de Vargas and to the Duke: and then again the next evening: both times the lights were dim. No! no! I have no fear of that! de Vargas will not guess! You and your brother are at times so much alike, and donna Lenora hath not seen Laurence yet." "And you did not speak of Laurence by name? I shouldn’t care to change mine." "No, I don’t think so. I presented my son to the Duke and to señor de Vargas. It was at His Highness’ lodgings: the room was small and dark; and señor de Vargas paid but little heed to us." "We Netherlanders are of so little account in the sight of these grandees of Spain," quoth Mark with a light laugh, "and in any case, father, we must take some risk. So will you go and see my mother and calm her fears, whilst I go and don my best doublet and hose. Poor little mother! she hath put one foot into her grave through terror and anxiety on Laurence’s account." "As for Laurence..." exclaimed the High-Bailiff wrathfully. "Don’t worry about Laurence, father," broke in Mark quietly. "His marriage with a Spaniard would have been disastrous. He would have fallen violently in love with his beautiful wife, and she would have dragged sufficient information out of him to denounce us all to the Inquisition. Perhaps," he added with good-humoured indifference, "it is all for the best." The High-Bailiff rose and placed a hand upon his son’s shoulder. "You are a true son to me, Mark," he said earnestly, "never shall I forget it. I am a wealthy man--more wealthy than many suppose. In virtue of your marriage with that Spanish wench you will be more free from taxation than we Netherlanders are: I’ll make over the bulk of my fortune to you. You shall not regret what you have done for me and for your mother." "It is time I went up to dress," was Mark’s only comment on his father’s kindly speech, and he quietly removed the paternal hand from off his shoulder. "Hurry on," said the High-Bailiff cheerfully, "I’ll wait until you are ready. I must just run up to your mother and tell her the good news. Nay! but I do believe if that hot-headed young rascal were to turn up now, I would forgive him his senseless escapade. As you say, my dear son, it is all for the best!" CHAPTER III THE RULING CASTE I Donna Lenora de Vargas stood beside her father whilst he--as representing the Lieutenant-Governor--was receiving the homage of the burghers and patricians of Ghent. This was a great honour for so young a girl, but every one--even the women--declared that donna Lenora was worthy of the honour, and many a man--both young and old--after he had made obeisance before señor de Vargas paused awhile before moving away, in order to gaze on the perfect picture which she presented.