At sight of him, de Vargas gave a cry of rage and surprise.
"Mark van Rycke!" he exclaimed. "What hath he to do with it all?"
"Thy daughter's husband," said Alva coolly. "Nay, then we'll soon make her a widow."
But to the Orangists he called peremptorily: "'Tis with the rebel whom ye call Leatherface that I wish to speak."
"I have been known as Leatherface hitherto," retorts Mark van Rycke coolly. "Speak without fear. I listen."
Vargas' cry of rage was echoed by more than one Spanish captain present. They remembered Mark van Rycke, the ne'er-do-well with whom they had oft drunk and jested in the taverns of Ghent and Brussels, aye! and before whom they had oft talked openly of their plans.
"Spy as well as rebel!" they cried out to him wrathfully.
"Pity he cannot hang more than once," added de Vargas with bitter spite.
But to Alva the personality of the rebel was of no consequence. What cared he if the man was called van Rycke and was the husband of his friend's daughter? There stood an abominable rebel who had gained by treachery and stealth a momentary advantage over the forces of his suzerain Lord the King, and who would presently suffer along with the whole of this insurgent city the utmost rigour of Alva's laws! In the meanwhile he deigned to parley with the lout, for he was sore pressed inside the Kasteel, and the messengers who were speeding to Dendermonde for reinforcements could not possibly bring help for at least another four-and-twenty hours.
Therefore, now he--the Lieutenant-Governor of the Netherlands and Captain-General of His Majesty's forces--demanded attention in the name of the King.