Van Volkenberg had spoken with calmness and respect; but for the moment I was in doubt whether the governor with his strong prejudices would trust him. He did not know, of course, as I did, what had prompted the patroon to this act of humility and grace. However, after a few minutes’ hesitation, the Earl thanked him cordially. He consulted with his advisers and they came to the conclusion that it would be best to accept the offer of the patroon. The fact that he himself would return to his manor-house for the time being and leave the command of the troops wholly to the governor won them over. They all shook hands with him, and Bellamont thanked him again for the way in which he had come to the rescue of the city. “We shall let bygones be bygones,” he said. “We have had our quarrel. To-morrow there will be a meeting of my council at the usual hour, at which I hope you will be present.” For just a moment there seemed likely to be an interruption in store for us. Louis, who had not shared my conversation with the Earl, seemed amazed. His eyes stood out like knobs. His great misshapen mouth opened. He threw back his head with that weird contortion of his face that preceded his peculiar, ghastly laugh. I caught in my reins lest my horse should startle at the sound. But Louis subsided slowly without a laugh and took on again that solemn look of acquiescence. “A mere freak of his,” said the patroon in explanation. “A curiosity of mine, but he means no harm.” With that they parted harmoniously and we three, the patroon, Louis and I, rode back to the manor-house. We who had gone into town in such pomp returned alone without a man to bear us company. And a hundred and fifty of the best troops of the province were in the fort, ready to guard it against attack. Later that evening, Louis Van Ramm was nowhere to be found. The patroon seemed alarmed at his henchman’s absence. “He has never left me without permission before, St. Vincent. Did he say anything to you?” He had said nothing to me. No one else had any notion of the dwarf’s whereabouts. We went out upon the terrace in the vague hope of seeing or hearing something of him. Suddenly the distinct sound of clattering horse hoofs fell upon the night. The wind blew in gusts and, in a moment, the sound had vanished. But the wind came again in a moment and the hoof beats with it, louder than before. And then, fast and clear, the triple ring of a horse at full gallop along the frozen highway to the north. “Someone is abroad to-night,” said the patroon. “Yes, a horseman,” I replied. We both spoke calmly. An observer might have wondered why we had not cried out, for the sound came suddenly like one speaking in the dark. For my part, I suspected Louis, though how or what I did not know. The patroon may have thought likewise, for he asked: “Who is that, do you suppose?” “A horseman,” I replied again.