The company was of the same character as the furniture, handsome and solid; people of means, every man and woman of them, accumulated by themselves or their fathers, in the exercise of the honest and profitable trade whereof at this time the Netherlands had a practical monopoly. “I have made no mistake,” thought Montalvo to himself, as he surveyed the room and its occupants. “My little neighbour’s necklace alone is worth more cash than ever I had the handling of, and the plate would add up handsomely. Well, before very long I hope to be in a position to make its inventory.” Then, having first crossed himself devoutly, he fell to upon a supper that was well worth his attention, even in a land noted for the luxury of its food and wines and the superb appetites of those who consumed them. It must not be supposed, however, that the gallant captain allowed eating to strangle conversation. On the contrary, finding that his hostess was in no talkative mood, he addressed himself to his fellow guests, chatting with them pleasantly upon every convenient subject. Among these guests was none other than Pieter van de Werff, his conqueror in that afternoon’s conquest, upon whose watchful and suspicious reserve he brought all his batteries to bear. First he congratulated Pieter and lamented his own ill-luck, and this with great earnestness, for as a matter of fact he had lost much more money on the event than he could afford to pay. Then he praised the grey horse and asked if he was for sale, offering his own black in part exchange. “A good nag,” he said, “but one that I do not wish to conceal has his faults, which must be taken into consideration if it comes to the point of putting a price upon him. For instance, Mynheer van de Werff, you may have noticed the dreadful position in which the brute put me towards the end of the race. There are certain things that this horse always shies at, and one of them is a red cloak. Now I don’t know if you saw that a girl in a red cloak suddenly appeared on the bank. In an instant the beast was round and you may imagine what my feelings were, being in charge of your fair kinswoman, for I thought to a certainty that we should be over. What is more, it quite spoilt my chance of the race, for after he has shied like that, the black turns sulky, and won’t let himself go.” When Lysbeth heard this amazing explanation, remembering the facts, she gasped. And yet now that she came to think of it, a girl in a red cloak did appear near them at the moment, and the horse _did_ whip round as though it had shied violently. Was it possible, she wondered, that the captain had not really intended to foul the Badger sledge?