"Give Messire van Rycke your hand, Lenora," commanded de Vargas. And the girl--obediently and mechanically--stretched out her small, white hand and Mark van Rycke touched her finger tips with his lips. Every one noticed how closely señor de Vargas had watched his daughter all the while that the formal ceremony of betrothal was taking place, and that, as soon as donna Lenora had extended her hand to Messire van Rycke a smile of intense satisfaction became apparent round the corners of his mouth. "And now, Messire," he said solemnly, and turning once more to the bridegroom-elect, "it is my pleasant duty to apprise you that our Sovereign Lord and King hath himself desired that I should be his mouthpiece in wishing you lasting happiness. "I thank you, Messire," said Mark van Rycke quietly. "As you know," continued de Vargas speaking with paternal benevolence, "it is the Lieutenant-Governor’s earnest wish that we should hasten the wedding. He himself hath graciously fixed this day sennight for the religious ceremony--the festival day of Our Lady of Victory--a great and solemn occasion, Messire," he continued unctuously, "which will sanctify your union with my daughter and confer on it an additional blessing." "As His Highness commands," rejoined Mark somewhat impatiently. He had made several efforts to meet his beautiful bride’s glance again, but she kept her eyes steadily averted from his now. Truly so cold and unemotional a bride was enough to put any bridegroom out of patience. No doubt had Laurence van Rycke stood there instead of Mark there might have been enacted a little scene of ill-temper which would have disturbed don Juan de Vargas’ unctuous manner. But Mark took it all as a matter of course: he looked supremely indifferent and more than a little bored whilst his prospective father-in-law delivered himself of all these urbane speeches. He had obviously been deeply struck at first by donna Lenora’s exquisite beauty, but now the effect of this pleasing surprise had worn off, he looked down on her with cool indifference, whilst a little smile of irony became more and more accentuated round his lips. But the High-Bailiff appeared overjoyed; his flat, Flemish face gradually broadened into a huge, complacent smile, he leaned on the arm of his son with easy familiarity and every one felt that--had señor de Vargas demanded such a token of gratitude and loyalty--Mynheer Charles van Rycke would have laid down on the floor and licked the dust from Monseigneur’s slashed shoes. III At last the interminable ceremony of betrothal was over and donna Lenora was given a little breathing time from the formal etiquette which surrounded her father whenever he represented the Lieutenant-Governor, and which oppressed this poor young girl physically like the stiff corslet which she wore.