The patroon, however, made a more striking figure. He was dressed all in black, save for the crimson cap he always wore in the house, and the pale lace about his neck and wrists. His long black coat was trimmed in silver buttons artificially darkened till they were of a deep grey. His knee breeches and hose were also black. His shoes, instead of being fastened with huge silver buttons, as was the custom, were tied with narrow black ribbons. His black robes set off his silvery hair—prematurely white through trouble and disease—with superb effect. The only other bit of color about him was the gold head of his ebony cane, which he held between his thumb and forefinger, as if he were about to lift it lightly from the floor. But all this description of how the patroon looked is the result of a moment’s glance and after recollection. For almost in an instant I forgot everything, and saw only those eagle eyes like jewels gazing at me. Was it the dove and the serpent over again? No, no, Patroon Van Volkenberg. You have a man to deal with this time. “Thy head or my head,” saith the King. At last he spoke to me. “If you are to cut a figure in the Red Band, you must know somewhat of my affairs. I spoke a while ago of a man Le Bourse.” He kept his eyes fiercely on me. “I have cause to hate this dog, for I hold him little better than a dog. If I ever have him in arm’s reach—you saw how I dealt with Ronald Guy?” “Yes, I saw it. What is your grievance against Le Bourse?” “I have done him wrong.” “Therefore you would do him more?” “Is not that logic? I would break him upon the rack. Bah, he is no fool. I must watch him close.” “I thought he was dead.” “Ay, dead if not alive. Lately he had the impudence to hang about that very window and spy upon my affairs.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, but he kept his eyes on me. I saw through his plot clearly. He did not know that I was Le Bourse, but he thought so, and wanted me to betray myself. I was more than a match for him, however, as events soon proved. He told me briefly what he knew of my escapade of a few nights before and how it led up to his expulsion from the privy-council. All the while he watched me narrowly, though now and then glancing for a moment at Louis, who seemed more asleep than awake in the great chair. At last the patroon let his cane slip. It came down with a startling rattle upon the floor, and when he picked it up again he leaned back in his chair with a silent, sullen manner. He was evidently at the end of his string for that moment. My first ordeal was over. He had tried me in the balance and found—nothing. Evidently the patroon was not convinced one way or the other.