n and rage to start, and after the first
yard or two want the whip, so all this hurry cooled into inaction when
Hans got as far as the principal hostelry of Tergou, and saw two of
his boon companions sitting in the bay window. He went in for a parting
glass with them; but when he offered to pay, they would not hear of it,
No; he was going a long journey; they would treat him; everybody must
treat him, the landlord and all.

It resulted from this treatment that his tongue got as loose as if the
wine had been oil; and he confided to the convivial crew that he was
going to show the Italians how to paint: next he sang his exploits
in battle, for he had handled a pike; and his amorous successes with
females, not present to oppose their version of the incidents. In short,
"plenus rimarum erat: huc illuc diffluebat;" and among the miscellaneous
matters that oozed out, he must blab that he was entrusted with a letter
to a townsman of theirs, one Gerard, a good fellow: he added "you are
all good fellows:" and to impress his eulogy, slapped Sybrandt on the
back so heartily, as to drive the breath out of his body.

Sybrandt got round the table to avoid this muscular approval; but
listened to every word, and learned for the first time that Gerard was
gone to Italy. However, to make sure, he affected to doubt it.

"My brother Gerard is never in Italy."

"Ye lie, ye cur," roared Hans, taking instantly the irascible turn, and
not being clear enough to see that he, who now sat opposite him, was the
same he had praised, and hit, when beside him. "If he is ten times
your brother, he is in Italy. What call ye this? There, read me that
superscription!" and he flung down a letter on the table.

Sybrandt took it up, and examined it gravely; but eventually laid it
down, with the remark, that he could not read. However, one of the
company, by some immense fortuity, could read; and proud of so rare an
accomplishment, took it, and read it out:

"To Gerard Eliassoen, of Tergou. These by the hand of the trusty Hans
Memling, with all speed."

"'Tis excellently well writ," said the reader, examining every letter.

"Ay!" said Hans bombastically, "and small wonder: 'tis writ by a famous
hand; by Margaret, sister of Jan Van Eyck. Blessed and honoured be his
memory! She is an old friend of mine, is Margaret Van Eyck."

Miscellaneous Hans then diverged into forty topics.

Sybrandt stole out of the company, and went in search of Cornelis.

The