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, "and 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 castings, which he had purchased in Antwerp. They were iron jewelry, and very delicate—beautiful medallions designed from rare paintings, bordered with fine tracery and open work—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:
"I can read your thoughts, sweetheart."
She looked up in playful defiance.
"Ah! now I am sure of them. You were thinking of those noble-hearted women, but for whom Prussia might have fallen. I know it by that proud light in your eye."
"The proud light in my eye plays me false, then," she answered. "I had no such grand matter in my mind. To confess the simple truth, I was only thinking how lovely this necklace would be with my blue brocade."