young man's success, and some of them had won money over him. Still
more did they applaud, being great judges of culinary matters, when
the Spaniard began his speech by an elegant tribute to the surpassing
excellence of the supper. Rarely, he assured them, and especially did he
assure the honourable widow Van Ziel (who blushed all over with pleasure
at his compliments, and fanned herself with such vigour that she upset
Dirk's wine over his new tunic, cut in the Brussels style), the fame of
whose skill in such matters had travelled so far as The Hague, for he
had heard of it there himself--rarely even in the Courts of Kings and
Emperors, or at the tables of Popes and Archbishops, had he eaten food
so exquisitely cooked, or drunk wines of a better vintage.

Then, passing on to the subject of his speech, Van de Werff, he toasted
him and his horse and his little sister and his sledge, in really
well-chosen and appropriate terms, not by any means overdoing it, for
he confessed frankly that his defeat was a bitter disappointment to him,
especially as every solder in the camp had expected him to win
and--he was afraid--backed him for more than they could afford. Also,
incidentally, so that every one might be well acquainted with it, he
retold the story of the girl with the red cloak. Next, suddenly dropping
his voice and adopting a quieter manner, he addressed himself to the
Aunt Clara and the "well-beloved Heer Dirk," saying that he owed them
both an apology, which he must take this opportunity to make, for
having detained the lady at his right during so unreasonable a time that
afternoon. When, however, they had heard the facts they would, he was
sure, blame him no longer, especially if he told them that this breach
of good manners had been the means of saving a human life.

Immediately after the race, he explained, one of his sergeants had found
him out to tell him that a woman, suspected of certain crimes against