He had undone the buckle of his sword-belt, and was carrying his sheathed sword in his hand: he found it a splendid weapon for striking further terror into the hearts of the two girls, whose shrieks of pain and fear caused great hilarity amongst the soldiers. Don Ramon felt that if only Mark van Rycke could have been there, all the wounds which that young malapert had dared to inflict upon the pride of a Spanish grandee would forthwith be healed. Indeed, don Ramon enjoyed every incident of this exhilarating spectacle; for instance, when buxom Katrine had at last toddled down the steps into the cellar, the soldiers closed the trap-door upon her; whereupon the provost, who had become very hilarious, shouted lustily: "What ho! what are you louts doing there? His Magnificence will be wanting the wine which he has ordered. If you lock the cellarer into her cellar, she’ll come out presently as drunk as a Spanish lord." "All right, provost," retorted one of the men, "we’ll let her out presently. His Magnificence won’t have to wait for long. But we can levy a toll on her--do you understand?--whenever the wench is ready to come out of prison." "Oh! I understand!" quoth the provost with a laugh. And don Ramon laughed too. He was enjoying himself even more than he had hoped. He saw the other girl--Grete--turn almost grey with terror, and he felt that he was punishing Mark van Rycke for every insolent word which he had uttered at the Town Hall and Laurence for every threatening gesture. He gave Grete a sharp prodding with the hilt of his sword: "Now then, you Flemish slut," he said harshly, "show me to your best parlour, and don’t stand there gaping." Perforce she had to show him the way out of the public _tapperij_ to the private room reserved for noble guests. "Send one of your men to fetch the wench away in about half an hour, provost," called don Ramon loudly over his shoulder, "I shall have got tired of her by then." Loud laughter greeted this sally and a general clapping of mugs against the table. Grete more dead than alive nearly fell over the threshold. IV The private room was on the opposite side of the narrow tiled hall and was dimly lighted by a small iron lamp that hung from a beam of the ceiling above. The door was half open and Grete pushed it open still further and then stood aside to allow the señor captain to pass. "Will your Magnificence be pleased to walk in," she whispered. Great tears were in her eyes; don Ramon paused under the lintel of the door, and with a rough gesture pinched her cheek and ear. "Not ugly for a Flemish heifer," he said with a laugh. "Come along, girl! Let’s see if your heretical father hath taught you how to pay due respect to your superiors." "My humblest respect I do offer your Magnificence," said Grete, who was bravely trying to suppress her tears.