Whether any thought of conspiracy or of State secrets had at this time entered her head it were impossible to say, whether she thought of Ramon’s murderer or of her oath to her father just then, who can tell? Certainly not the girl herself--she only listened--listened with all her might, and anon she heard the scraping of a chair against the tiled floor, then the iron rings of a curtain sliding along the rod, finally the whistling sound of a gust of wind rushing through an open window. This moment she chose as her opportunity. She turned the handle of the door very gently, and quite noiselessly it responded to her touch. Then she pushed the door wide open and waited--listening. The door into the withdrawing-room was wide open just as she had conjectured, the wind was blowing the feeble light about which flickered in that room, and there were men in there who moved stealthily and spoke in whispers. Lenora crept forward--furtive as a mouse. The darkness in the dining-hall was impenetrable, and she in her house-dress of dark woollen stuff made no noise as she glided along, keeping well within the gloom, her hands stretched out before her to feel the objects that might be in her way. At last she came within range of the open door and had a view of the little room beyond. She saw the table in the centre, the men sitting around it, and Clémence van Rycke in a high-back chair at its further end. Just now they all had their faces turned toward the window, where in the open casement the head and shoulders of a man were dimly visible to Lenora for one instant and then disappeared. After that she heard the men talking together and heard what they said: she saw that one man appeared to be the recipient of great marks of respect, and that the others called him "Your Highness." She was now listening as if her very life depended on what she heard--crouching in the angle of the dining-room as closely as her unwieldy farthingale would allow. She heard the man whom the others called "Your Highness," and who could be none other than the Prince of Orange, explain to the others a plan for massing together two thousand men in connection with a forthcoming visit of the Duke of Alva to Ghent, she heard the word "Leatherface" and a great deal about a packet of papers. She heard the Prince speak about a meeting to-morrow in the house of the Procurator-General, and finally she saw Laurence van Rycke take a packet of papers from the Prince’s hand and lock it up in the bureau that stood close to the window. Indeed she could not for a moment be in doubt as to the meaning of what she saw and heard.