llied forth all dressed in deepest mourning and attended by a train
of servants, and, embarking upon a flat-bottomed barge, was borne up the
river Scheldt towards Antwerp. Bruges was her ultimate destination, of
which she left no word behind her, and took the longest way round to
reach it. From Antwerp her barge voyaged on to Ghent, and thence by
canal, drawn by four stout Flemish horses, at last to the magnificent
city where the Dukes of Burgundy kept their Court.

Under the June sunshine the opulent city of Bruges hummed with activity
like the great human hive it was. For Bruges at this date was the market
of the world, the very centre of the world's commerce, the cosmopolis
of the age. Within its walls were established the agencies of a score of
foreign great trading companies, and the ambassadors of no less a
number of foreign Powers. Here on a day you might hear every language of
civilization spoken in the broad thoroughfares under the shadow of such
imposing buildings as you would not have found together in another city
of Europe. To the harbour came the richly laden argosies from Venice
and Genoa, from Germany and the Baltic, from Constantinople and from
England, and in her thronged markets Lombard and Venetian, Levantine,
Teuton, and Saxon stood jostling one another to buy and sell.

It was past noon, and the great belfry above the Gothic Cloth Hall in
the Grande Place was casting a lengthening shadow athwart the crowded
square. Above the Babel of voices sounded on a sudden the note of a
horn, and there was a cry of "The Duke! The Duke!" followed by a general
scuttle of the multitude to leave a clear way down the middle of the
great square.

A gorgeous cavalcade some twoscore strong came into sight, advancing
at an amble, a ducal hunting party returning to the palace. A hush fell
upon the burgher crowd as it pressed back respectfully to gaze; and
to the din of human voices succeeded now the clatter of hoofs upon the
kidney-stones of the square, the jangle of hawkbells, the baying of
hounds, and the occasional note of the horn that had first brought
warning of the Duke's approach.

It was a splendid iridescent company, flaunting in its apparel every
colour of the prism. There were great lords in silks and velvets of
every hue, their legs encased in the finest skins of Spain; there
were great ladies, in tall, pointed hennins or bicorne headdresses and
floating veils, with embroidered gowns that swept down bel