He is right, for the girl is dressed as a bride, in gleaming, glimmering, glistening white, some exquisite creation of the looms of Lyons. She has orange flowers in her hair, her beautiful shoulders and maiden bosom gleam like ivory, and her white arms are pure as alabaster as they close softly round him, and she whispers: “My Guido, at last! See what I have for thee. Come with me, now we shall be happy. Perchance if I entreat him, he will permit us to be one this night.” Her fairy fingers point to the chapel, as she laughs: “I have a surprise for him, too. It is because I have prayed to her that the Madonna looks so kindly on me this night.” At this Guy gives a start and becomes radiant himself, though he scarcely understands, for, following Hermoine’s hand, he sees the curtains are raised showing the chapel; wax tapers are burning now in hundreds on its altar, there are flowers upon it, and everything seems ready for some religious ceremony. “Don’t look at it too long; come with me. He will be astonished when I tell him the reason.” “He! Who?” “Quick, I’ll lead you to him.” They are at the curtains of the great arches between this room and the dining saloon, she cries: “Draw up the draperies!” As they rise, she whispers: “Guido, on your knees before my father, who has promised that you shall be my husband—on your knees and thank him as I do!” and prostrates herself before the gaunt figure in black who always wears the golden fleece, the Viceroy of the King of Spain, My Lord of Alva! Suddenly she is astounded, for instead of dropping on his knees, her Guido springs from her with a wild cry of horrified amazement, and lays hands upon his sword. At that same instant eight Spanish arquebusiers spring in at the open windows and catching him with sword half drawn, have bound his hands, but not without desperate struggle. Before it is done there is a dead Spaniard lying at his feet. At this the girl starting up cries: “Guido! are you mad to kill a Spanish soldier?” next says haughtily: “Fellows, release that gentleman immediately!” But the men only look at her father. “Unhand that gentleman! You don’t know what you’re doing. Unbind him! He is Colonel Guido Amati, the future son-in-law of your Viceroy!” Then she says apologetically to Guy: “It is some horrible mistake, my Guido. Don’t struggle with them, they may kill you.” For Chester is silently trying to force his way to the window that he may throw himself out of it into the waters of the Schelde. Then Hermoine, turning to her father, cries: “Command your soldiers to release the man I love. Is this the way you keep promise to me, your daughter?” On this the Duke asks: “Who is this man? Somebody tell me. Do you recognize him? Who is he?” Coming from behind him the bluff Sergeant of Romero salutes and whispers into the Viceroy’s ear: “It is ‘The First of the English!’”