“Wiarda Schwartz!” cries the girl; “Wiarda!” clapping her hands. Receiving no answer to this she says: “I’ll be back in a minute,” and running lightly upstairs returns in a few minutes followed by a bright, vivacious, dark-eyed lady’s maid, whose attire indicates she is the favorite of her mistress, and whose short muslin skirts and white, high Friesian peasant’s cap denotes the soubrette. In answer to the girl’s rather off-hand courtesy, Chester remarks: “I am the Captain Guido Amati, of Romero’s foot. Can I see Vrouw Bodé Volcker for a moment?” “Not unless you go to the other world,” answers the girl pertly. “Vrouw Bodé Volcker has been dead four years.” “That is going further than walking to the warehouses for her widower,” smiles Guy. Then he asks: “Can I see the mistress of the house?” “Oh, you mean Freule Wilhelmina Bodé Volcker,” says the girl. Next adds majestically: “Freule Wilhelmina Bodé Volcker is at present at the fête of the Countess de Mansfeld.” Remembering the Countess Mansfeld’s lackey’s slurring remarks about the daughter of an ex-burgomaster dancing in his highest priced silks for the entertainment of the company, it is difficult for Chester to fight down a chuckle. However, being very anxious for information, he suggests: “Then, perhaps, you can answer my question. Do you know when Antony Oliver, the herald of the Duke of Alva, is returning to Brussels?” And this ruins Captain Guido Amati in the estimation of Wiarda Schwartz, maid in waiting to the ex-burgomaster’s daughter. She says with pert arrogance: “Well, I never! That good-for-nothing, beggarly painter? I know nothing about him. I had supposed Mijn Heer Captain was acquainted with the nobility!” As Guy passes out of the house without information, he sees Mademoiselle Schwartz’s pert nose very much up in the air and Mademoiselle Schwartz’s red stockinged ankle and shapely foot patting the floor in jeering gesture. “There is nothing but to be quiet and sleep until morning. I might as well get some of that,” cogitates the Englishman. “God only knows what to-morrow will bring to me.” So getting hold of the link boy again, who has evidently loitered about in hopes that Guy’s visit at the Bodé Volckers’ will be short, Chester gives him his orders, and is conducted to the inn known as “The Painted House,” celebrated for its wine and beer, and situated on the Shoemarket opposite the Place de Meir. It is but a few steps from the residence of the merchant, and can be easily distinguished, Guy notes as he approaches, by its high, painted gables, which give it its name. Lights are showing from its lower rooms, the pentice or wooden awning in front of it is ornamented by evergreens and shrubs and illuminated by swinging lamps; chairs and tables are under these, on which lounge several of the better-to-do burghers of the town, a couple of Spanish officers, and half a dozen travelers. Late as it is the sound of revelry comes from the main inner room.