After them a draggled rabble of lads and half-grown girls, bound together with ropes and kept at a dog's trot by the pricking spears of the men-at-arms behind, who thought it a jest to sink a spear point-deep in the flesh of a man's back--"drawing the claret wine" they called it.

For these riders of Duke Casimir were every one jolly companions, and must have their merry jest.
After the captives had gone past--and sorry I was for them--the body-guard of Duke Casimir came riding steadily and gallantly, all gentlemen of the Mark, with their sons and squires, landed men, towered men, free Junkers, serving the Duke for loyalty and not servitude, though ever "living by the saddle"-- as, indeed, most of the Ritterdom and gentry of the Mark had done for generations.
Then behind them came Duke Casimir himself.

The Eastland blood he had acquired from his Polish mother showed as he rode gloomily apart, thoughtful, solitary, behind the squared shoulders of his knights.

After him another squadron of riders in ghastly armor of black-and-white, with torches in their hand and grinning skulls upon their shields, closed in the array.

The great gate of the Wolfsberg was open now, and, leaving behind him the hushed and darkened town, the master rode into his castle.
The Wolf was in his lair.