The musician Wilhelm was also present, but no longer alone; beside him sat his beautiful, delicate wife, Anna d’Avila, with whom he had recently returned from Italy.  He had borne for several years the name of Van Duivenbode (messenger-dove), which the city had bestowed on him, together with a coat of arms bearing three blue doves on a silver field and two crossed keys.

With the Prince’s consent the legacies bequeathed by old Fraulein Van Hoogstraten to her relatives and servants, had been paid, and Wilhelm now occupied with his wife a beautiful new house, that did not lack a dovecote, and where Maria, though her four children gave her little time, took part in many a madrigal.  The musician had much to say about Rome and his beautiful sister-in-law Henrica, to Adrian, now a fine young man, who had graduated at the University and was soon to be admitted to the council.  Belotti, after the death of the young girl’s father, who had seen and blessed Anna again, went to Italy with her, where she lived as superior of a secular institution, where music was cultivated with special devotion.

Barbara did not appear among the guests.  She had plenty to do in the kitchen.  Her white caps were now plaited with almost coquettish skill and care, and the firm, contented manner in which she ruled Trautchen and the two under maid-servants showed that everything was going on well in Peter’s house and business.  It was worth while to do a great deal for the guests upstairs.  Junker von Warmond was among them, and had been given the seat of honor between Doctor Grotius and Janus Dousa, the first trustee of the University, for he had become a great nobleman and influential statesman, who found much difficulty in getting time to leave the Hague and attend the banquet with his young assistant, Nicolas Van Wibisma.  He drank to Meister Aquanus as eagerly and gaily as ever, exclaiming: 

“To old times and our friend, Georg von Dornburg.”

“With all my heart,” replied the landlord.  “We haven’t heard of his bold deeds and expeditions for a long time.”

“Of course!  The fermenting wine is now clear.  Dornburg is in the English service, and four weeks ago I met him as a member of her British Majesty’s navy in London.  His squadron is now on the way to Venice.  He still cherishes an affectionate memory of Leyden, and sends kind remembrances to you, but you would never recognize in the dignified commander and quiet, cheerful man, our favorite in former days.  How often his enthusiastic temperament carried him far beyond us all, and how it would make the heart ache to see him brooding mournfully over his secret grief.”

“I met the Junker in Delft,” said Doctor Grotius.  “Such enthusiastic natures easily soar too high and then get a fall, but when they yoke themselves to the chariot of work and duty, their strength moves vast burdens, and with cheerful superiority conquers the hardest obstacles.”