"I don't think them so much amiss," replied Moor. "Whatever friendly
spirits now work for you at night, you must learn in Antwerp to paint in
broad day at any hour."

"In Antwerp?"

"We shall prepare for departure this very day. It must be done with the
utmost privacy. When Isabella has gone, pack your best clothes in the
little knapsack. Perhaps we shall leave secretly; we have remained in
Madrid long enough. Keep yourself always in readiness. No one, do you
hear, no human being, not even the servants, must suspect what is going
on. I know you; you are no babbler."

The artist suddenly paused and turned pale, for men's loud, angry voices
were heard outside the door of the studio.

Ulrich too was startled.

The master's intention of leaving Madrid had pleased him, for it would
withdraw the former from the danger that might result from his own
imprudence. But as the strife in the anteroom grew louder, he already
saw the alguazils forcing their way into the studio.

Moor went towards the door, but it was thrown wide open ere he reached
it, and a bearded lansquenet crossed the threshold.

Laughing scornfully, he shouted a few derisive words at the French
servants who had tried to stop him, then turning to the artist, and
throwing back his broad chest, he held out his arms towards Moor, with
passionate ardor, exclaiming: "These French flunkies--the varlets, tried