It is not safe, little cousin, I swear to you that it is not safe." In the centre of the mere the great event of the day, the sledge races, were now in progress.

As the competitors were many these must be run in heats, the winners of each heat standing on one side to compete in the final contest.

Now these victors had a pretty prerogative not unlike that accorded to certain dancers in the cotillion of modern days.

Each driver of a sledge was bound to carry a passenger in the little car in front of him, his own place being on the seat behind, whence he directed the horse by means of reins supported upon a guide-rod so fashioned that it lifted them above the head of the traveller in the car.

This passenger he could select from among the number of ladies who were present at the games; unless, indeed, the gentleman in charge of her chose to deny him in set form; namely, by stepping forward and saying in the appointed phrase, "No, for this happy hour she is mine." Among the winners of these heats was a certain Spanish officer, the Count Don Juan de Montalvo, who, as it chanced, in the absence on leave of his captain, was at that date the commander of the garrison at Leyden.