"In the meanwhile Bracamonte is on his way here.... He must have started well before noon ... he might be here before nightfall...."
"With at least five thousand men, I hope," added de Vargas.
"Night may see us masters of this city once more, seigniors," rejoined Alva, "and by God we'll punish those rebels for the fright they have given us. Ghent will be envying Mons and Mechlin...."
The three men walked slowly away after that, and their voices were lost in the distance. The listeners could no longer distinguish what was said, but anon a harsh laugh struck their ear, and leaning out of the window Lenora could see the Duke and her father standing just outside the council-chamber. The Duke had thrown back his head and was laughing heartily, de Vargas too looked highly amused. Not one single word of remorse or regret had been spoken by either of them for the blasphemous oath which had finally overcome the resistance of the Orangists: of a truth it did not weigh on the conscience of the man who had so wantonly outraged his Maker less than an hour before he knelt at the foot of His Altar, and de Vargas and his kind were only too ready to benefit by the perjury.
The sack of Ghent--jeopardised for a few hours--was once more looming ahead as a coveted prize. What was a false oath or so--one crime the more--when weighed in the balance with all the money and treasure which the unexpected resistance of a few Flemish clowns had so nearly wrenched from these noble Spaniards' grasp?
V
"Didst hear?" came in a smothered whisper from Lenora. She had turned suddenly and now faced Grete, who stood wide-eyed and terrified in the centre of the room. Her arms were behind her, and she clung to the window-ledge: her fair hair--all loose--streamed round her shoulders; pale, with glowing eyes and quivering lips, she looked like some beautiful feline creature at bay.
"Didst hear?" she reiterated hoarsely.
"Every word, most noble lady," came the whispered response.
"What didst make of it?"