222 Hans Brinker

one’s country. His English courtiers complimented him upon
his reception. ‘ Yes,” said he; “but the shouting is nothing
to what it would have been if Mary had been with me!”

While Ben was looking at the portraits, Mynheer van Gend
was giving the boys an account of a recent visit to Antwerp.
As it was the birthplace of Quentin Matsys, the blacksmith
who for love of an artist’s daughter studied until he became a
great painter, the boys asked their host if he had seen any of
Matsys’ works.

“Yes, indeed!” he replied ; “Cand excellent they are. His
famous triptych in a chapel of the Antwerp Cathedral, with
the Descent from the Cross on the centre panel, is especially
fine; but I confess I was more interested in his well.”

“© What well, mynheer?” asked Ludwig.

“One in the heart of the city, near this same cathedral,
whose lofty steeple is of such delicate workmanship that the
French emperor said it reminded him of Mechlin lace. The
_ well is covered with a Gothic canopy, surmounted by the
figure of a knight in full armor. It is all of metal, and proves
that Matsys was an artist at the forge as’ well as at the easel :
indeed, his great fame is mainly derived from his miraculous
skill as an artificer in iron.”

Next, mynheer showed the boys some exquisite Berlin cast-
ings, which he had purchased in Antwerp. They were iron
jewelry, and very delicate, — beautiful medallions designed
from rare paintings, bordered with fine tracery and openwork,
—worthy, he said, of being worn by the fairest lady of the
land. Consequently the necklace was handed, with a bow
and a smile, to the blushing Mevrouw van Gend.

Something in the lady’s aspect as she bent her bright young
face over the gift caused mynheer to add earnestly, —