his wife."

"Oh, no! Her voice sounds differently."

During this conversation, Captain Van der Laen had risen and examined the
landlord's singular treasures. He was now standing before a board, on
which the head of an ox was sketched in charcoal, freely, boldly and with
perfect fidelity to nature.

"What magnificent piece of beef is this?" he asked the landlord.

"No less a personage than Frank Floris sketched it," replied Aquanus. "He
once came here from Brussels and called on Meister Artjen. The old man
had gone out, so Floris took a bit of charcoal and drew these lines with
it. When Artjen came home and found the ox's head, he stood before it a
long time and finally exclaimed: 'Frank Floris, or the devil!' This
story--But there comes the burgomaster. Welcome, Meister Peter. A rare
honor."

All the guests rose and respectfully greated Van der Werff; Georg started
up to offer him his chair. Peter sat down for a short time and drank a
glass of wine, but soon beckoned to the Junker and went out with him into
the street.

There he briefly requested him to go to his house, for they had an
important communication to make, and then went to Van Hout's residence,
which was close beside the inn.

Georg walked thoughtfully towards the burgomaster's.

The "they" could scarcely have referred to any one except Maria. What
could she want of him at so late an hour? Had his friend regretted having
offered him lodgings in her own house? He was to move into his new
quarters early next morning; perhaps she wished to inform him of this
change of mind, before it was too late. Maria treated him differently
from before, there was no doubt of that, but surely this was natural! He
had dreamed of a different, far different meeting! He had come to Holland
to support the good cause of Orange, yet he would certainly have turned
his steed towards his beloved Italy, where a good sword was always in
demand, instead of to the north, had he not hoped to find in Holland her,
whom he had never forgotten, for whom he had never ceased to long--Now
she was the wife of another, a man who had shown him kindness, given him
his confidence. To tear his love from his heart was impossible; but he
owed it to her husband and his own honor to be strong, to resolutely
repress every thought of possessing her, and only rejoice in seeing her;
and this he must try to accomplish.

He had told himself all these things more than once, but realized that he
was wal