political nature at home to allow himself to be drawn away from his
beloved Antwerp.

But now he had a rival--the only real rival he had ever known. Van Dyck
was making head. The rival was younger, handsomer, and had such a
blandishing tongue and silken manner that the crowd began to call his
name and declare he was greater than Cæsar.

Yet Rubens showed not a sign of displeasure on his fine face--he bowed
and smiled and agreed with the garrulous critics when they smote the
table and declared that all of Van Dyck's Madonnas really winked.

He bided his time.

And it soon came, for the agent of Lord Arundel, that great Mæcenas of
the polite arts, came over to Flanders to secure treasures, and of course
called on Rubens.

And Rubens talked only of Van Dyck--the marvelous Van Dyck.

The agent secured several copies of Van Dyck's work, and went back to
England, telling of all that Rubens had told him, with a little
additional coloring washed in by his own warm imagination.

To discover a genius is next to being one yourself. Lord Arundel felt
that all he had heard of Van Dyck must be true, and when he went to the
King and told him of the prodigy he had found, the King's zeal was warm
as that of the agent, for does not the "messianic instinct" always live?

This man must be secured at any cost. They had failed to secure Rubens,