Heer Cents chatted with her while they waited for his nephew and Willem to finish their business. She saw Adriaen had purchased a Raphael and six Michelangelo drawings. Obviously his taste ran to Italian work. Willem was promising delivery of them and it was clear that Adriaen was a valued customer. It seemed to her that her feet barely touched the ground as she went with the uncle and nephew out of the house. The coach was far more elaborately ornamented and gilded than Ludolf's and there were four matched grays in the traces. Had she been in a less agitated state when she arrived at Willem's house she would have taken more notice of the splendid equipage. As if in a dream, she sat down on the seat upholstered in sapphire velvet and saw to her amazement that the roof above her had painted panels depicting mythological scenes. Heer Cents was seated opposite her and Adriaen sat down at her side.

"We're going straight to the best jeweler in the city," he told her rea.s.suringly.

She came close to panic. There were only a few stivers in her purse and there was no way she could pay for an expensive repair. She had counted on Heer Korver doing it free. "I'd prefer to go to a jeweler known to me," she insisted swiftly. "He is a diamond merchant I know well since he lives in the same street as I do."

"What is his name?"

"Heer Korver."

"I've heard of him. He has a good reputation. It will suit me to go there too. I'll be interested to see what he might have to show me." He glanced across at Heer Cents. "What of you, Uncle? Do you mind a delay in our viewing that property?"

"Not at all. My time is my own."

As Adriaen gave the changed address to the coachman through a small aperture, Sybylla almost wriggled with delight. Not only would she bring Heer Korver a new and very rich customer, but her time with Adriaen would be extended and she could show an admiring interest in the diamond pieces displayed that would be remembered by this young man at a suitable time in the future. She could see that he was much taken with her. She knew the signs only too well. Never had she been more glad that since coming to womanhood she had kept her sensual impulses in check. She would donate her virginity to the marriage and he his riches. It would be the best of bargains.

All these thoughts were darting about in her head as she directed her dancing glances at both men, trilling at their little jokes and making all the pretty movements of her head and hands that she knew to be captivating. Never in her life had she been more determined to get what she wanted. If claws had suddenly grown from the tips of her fingers she did not think she would have been surprised.

Everything went swimmingly. While Heer Korver's a.s.sistant mended her bracelet clasp, Adriaen was shown sets of diamonds suitable for mounting into coat b.u.t.tons. She surprised him by talking knowledgeably about the various cuts and tints of diamonds, but then he was not to know that she had long since thought she should learn as much as possible about them in readiness for when she would wear such fine stones herself.

"How did you learn so much about diamonds?" he questioned with interest.

Smilingly she invited Heer Korver to answer for her, which he did. "Sybylla has been in and out of my house since she could walk and has heard as much about the diamond trade as my own children. Then, in later years," he added with twinkling glances at her, "I have allowed her into my workshop on occasions."

She turned with a mischievous little laugh to Adriaen. "I wasn't a very well-disciplined child, which was why it was barred to me previously."

"So you have changed," he challenged flirtatiously.

"On the surface anyway," she gave back.

"I'm intrigued."

Heer Korver, seeing there would be no sale at all if Sybylla continued to work her wiles over van Jansz, making him forget everything else but her, produced two more sets of diamonds. "These are from India," he said, drawing the young man's attention back to the glittering array, "and are mogul-cut."

The final selection took a considerable time, neither Adriaen nor Sybylla wanting to hurry this time together. Several times Heer Cents, sitting patiently on a chair, took out his watch to look at it. Eventually Sybylla, having heard from Adriaen that the diamonds would become b.u.t.tons for an evening coat of moonshine silk, advised a set of symmetrically rose-cut diamonds with a peach tint, saying they would give a warmer sparkle.

The usual decanter of wine was brought in to round off the transaction, which gained Sybylla further time to cement this new relationship with Adriaen. She had drawn away tactfully when prices were discussed and had no idea what the diamonds had cost, although there was a clue toward their value in Heer Korver having produced his fifteenth-century Venetian goblets for the wine, for these only came out for special customers and high transactions. Perhaps it was also the first time he had had a member of the van Jansz family in his house.

Outside, her bracelet safe on her wrist, she declined an offer of a further ride in the coach, saying she would walk the short distance across the bridge to her home. Adriaen accompanied her on foot, which she had expected, and their stroll was leisurely while Heer Cents rode in the coach that lumbered slowly behind them. At her door Adriaen spoke of taking his sister to some musical gathering arranged for the following afternoon in aid of charity. He had extra tickets. Would Sybylla care to attend with her father as his guests? She hesitated deliberately until she was sure that disappointment was gathering in him as he feared a refusal. Then she accepted on her father's behalf and her own. On this happy note they parted.

No sooner was Sybylla inside the house than she flung herself into a wild jig, clapping her hands and laughing exuberantly, her petticoats aswirl. She danced into the studio and then remembered that Hendrick was out that day. Promptly she rushed along to the kitchen, where Maria was dozing in her favorite place by the hearth, her slippered feet on a foot warmer. The old woman was jerked awake when Sybylla let the kitchen door slam behind her.

"I've found him!" Sybylla's voice was exultant and she flung her arms around the old nurse to kiss her on both cheeks.

"Who, child?" Maria exclaimed in bewilderment, slightly dazed by her rough awakening.

"The man I'm going to marry!" Sybylla drew back to make a deep curtsy, "You see before you the future Vrouw van Jansz!"

"Oh, my!" Maria pressed a hand against her ample bosom as if to quieten her heart. "Don't play such tricks on me!"

"It's no trick. I've met him and it's true." Sybylla flung herself down to rest her head in the wide lap and look up into Maria's wrinkled face. "He's already falling in love with me."

"My dear child," Maria said sadly, stroking the girl's golden curls, "if he is of the van Jansz family such a marriage could never come about. Money marries money. You have no dowry."

"There's some money Mama left for Francesca and Aletta and me."

"It's very little. Nowhere near the amount your father would be expected to offer. My guess is that it would have to be many thousands of guilders with land and property as well."

"If Adriaen loves me, a dowry won't be important."

"Not to him, perhaps, but it would be to his parents. Put this dream aside. It can never be fulfilled."

Slowly Sybylla raised her head. "It has to be. I'll never have a chance like this again to secure all that I want from life. I know how to make him want me so much in his turn that his head will spin and he'll overrule all opposition."

"Hush! That's wanton talk. I'll not listen." Maria held up her hands as if to keep it at bay.

"No, it's not, Maria. I promise you that Adriaen van Jansz shall never regret the day I become his wife."

Maria, although she foresaw only trouble ahead, relented and cupped the girl's fervent face between her soft palms. "You were always foolish and headstrong," she declared with loving exasperation, a quiver to her lips.

Sybylla beamed. "All will be well. You'll see."

Hendrick received the news of the connection Sybylla had made with far more enthusiasm than she had expected. Unlike Maria, who saw only gloom and doom, he looked at it in a keen and hopeful light. A rich son-in-law would solve all his troubles. At the right moment, after Sybylla was well and truly wed to Adriaen van Jansz, it would be a simple matter to confide his misfortune at cards that had led to the dreadful trap in which Ludolf held him and Francesca. The sum needed to settle those debts would be nothing to a van Jansz and the hired wits of the best and most expensive lawyer in the city could make that marriage contract, which had been signed under threat, null and void. He himself would have his freedom again and Francesca need never know how nearly he had ruined her life for her.

"I'll attend this afternoon charity affair with you," he said jovially to Sybylla, his face brighter than it had been for many weeks.

She linked her arm through his and hugged it. "I'm so glad! I was so afraid you'd be busy or wouldn't want to come."

He grinned at her. "If you really fancy this Adriaen van Jansz, I'll not stand in your way. You've taken long enough to make up your mind."

Maria snapped at them both. "On the strength of two or three hours, mark you!" All her misgivings had returned and she felt she had blundered when she had shown in a weak moment her devotion for the girl, who was still childish in so many ways. It was when she should have mustered all past authority into her voice and put her foot down, squashing Sybylla's notion once and for all. She thrust to the back of her mind the possibility that it would have made no difference. Hendrick had come across to her.

"Don't be sour, Maria," he chided genially. "I knew as soon as I clapped eyes on Anna that she was the one for me. Love at first sight happens more often than you think. I believe that something very special happened between those two young people this afternoon and we'll soon be hearing wedding bells."

Maria snorted derisively and clattered plates. Never had she seen the likeness in character between Hendrick and his youngest daughter stronger than at this moment. With that same buoyant optimism, which took no account of possible disappointments, they already had a marriage band on Sybylla's finger.

"There's many a slip betwixt the cup and the lip," she warned them ferociously.

To her intense annoyance they both laughed.

AT THE VAN Deventer house Pieter was checking the laying of the flagstones. He had a good foreman and there was no need for him to be there personally, but he wanted to see Neeltje. He had received a full account from Francesca of Ludolf's visit and the attempt to disrupt her apprenticeship. Now that she knew Ludolf and Geetruyd were well acquainted she was convinced that the last-minute switch of her accommodation had been due to his conniving and her father had simply fallen in with his patron's wishes.

Pieter, knowing much more about the whole situation, had not the least doubt that it was as she believed, for he was certain that Ludolf was using Hendrick's gambling debts to virtually blackmail the artist into doing his will with regard to Francesca.

Ludolf was wandering about the garden, watching the work in progress, which meant that Neeltje would not appear. Pieter was impatient for the man to be gone, but he did not seem to have any other commitments that morning. Pieter did not dare send a note to Neeltje, fearing that Ludolf inspected all correspondence that came to the house before it was pa.s.sed on.

Pieter glanced upward at the house several times, but there was no sign of the woman. For all he knew she might have been dismissed already. Disappointed, he left his foreman to complete the work and went from the house. At the first corner of the street he found Neeltje waiting for him.

"I've been hoping to see you!" he exclaimed.

"That's what I thought. I saw you look up at the house several times."

"Can you tell me anything about your master's relationship with a woman in Delft named Geetruyd Wolff?"

"Only that she writes to him on business matters occasionally. She has mentioned Juffrouw Francesca only twice-once when she first went to Delft and secondly when Juffrouw Aletta went there too." Neeltje saw Pieter's gaze sharpen and realized she had given herself away. She jerked her shoulders back defiantly. "Yes, I read his correspondence. I have my reasons."

"Maybe if you confided those reasons to me we might work together on them."

She regarded him steadily for a few moments as she considered what he had said. Then she spoke abruptly. "Shall I come to your house this evening?"

"I'll be there," he said, and gave her directions.

She hurried back along the street to the house without saying farewell. There was no point in wasting time when she would be seeing him later. For the first time since Ludolf had cast a shadow across her life she felt a glimmer of hope. If all went well this evening she would have a strong ally in Pieter van Doorne.

She arrived at his house after dark. His housekeeper served them tea and cakes by the fireside and then withdrew. Neeltje was grateful for Pieter's relaxed att.i.tude and easy manner. No pressure was being put on her to confide anything if she should have second thoughts. It helped her tremendously and she supposed he knew that. She drained the last drop of her tea from the little bowl of Chinese porcelain before returning it to its saucer and putting it to one side.

"I was still a child in those mad years of the tulipomania," she began.

He listened quietly and attentively as she recounted the horrific experience of the destruction of the black tulip bulb and her father's brutal murder. It astounded him to learn whom she believed the murderer to be. She gazed into the fire all the time she was talking. Although she did not weep he saw the firelight reflected like tiny sparks in the tears that gathered in her eyes, but which she blinked back. He was full of compa.s.sion for her and when at last she fell silent he shook his head sympathetically.

"I've never heard a worse story of treachery and foul murder," he said. "You say you remember Ludolf as being the younger of the two men when you saw him again. Are you absolutely sure that it was he?"

She turned her head slowly and looked directly at him. "I'm absolutely certain. As I said, when I saw him in my home his face was already familiar and this caused me to study his features. That's why, ever since I entered my late mistress's employ, I began to check on him, hoping to find something incriminating against him. I've been shameless in reading his correspondence from the time I first managed to get a duplicate key made to his study, the first of several I collected through patient waiting and watching until I could gain access to all his private letters and papers wherever they were kept. It's my belief that what he was paid as an accessory in the destruction of the black tulip enabled him to buy a half-share in a ship. Eventually he must have done well enough to own his own vessel before becoming a ship broker. At the time when inquiries were made it was believed he had gone straight to sea. Never did I suppose that the day would come when I would be wanting to make him atone for a second murder as well."

"A second?" Pieter queried alertly.

She folded her hands in her lap. "If this were to be my dying breath I would swear that Ludolf van Deventer caused the death of his wife. He smothered her with a cushion! He had to be rid of her in order to marry Juffrouw Francesca!"

"What are you saying?" he demanded.

She told him everything. He was convinced that the truth was in all she said, and he questioned her closely about the correspondence she had followed through the years.

"What sort of business is it that causes Geetruyd Wolff to keep in touch with him?"

"I don't know. She used not to write at all, except for one letter that came from Delft some years ago and which he burnt immediately. I found the ashes of it in the fireplace and kept a tiny sc.r.a.p of paper that had escaped the flames. I matched it up with other writing, but never found its like until she began writing these business letters three or four years ago. It was undoubtedly her handwriting and I believe it was a love letter that he had put to the flames. He must have told her that he thought it was too risky to write in such a manner again."

"That is only supposition," he pointed out practically.

"It's what I believe. But to get back to what she writes now. It's sometimes about a delivery of which she's had a good report that it will please him to hear about and so forth. She only refers to people by their initials."

"Perhaps he has a half-share in her house, just as he may once have had in a ship, and she is referring to the number of guests she takes in. When I tried for accommodation the last time I was in Delft, the wife of the tavernkeeper asked her husband if Vrouw Wolff had any vacant rooms."

"Maybe that's it," she agreed. "I thought the occasional references to a ship might mean that he handles investments for her."

Mentally he stored away all that she had told him. They talked for a little while longer before he saw her home. She told him not to go farther than the corner of the street nearest the van Deventer house, but he watched until her lantern, bobbing along at the side of the ca.n.a.l, disappeared down into the servants' entrance under the double flight of steps to the main door. Satisfied that she was safely indoors, he returned to his own home.

SOME DUTIES IN the reserve militia kept Pieter in Amsterdam for another week. The present standard-bearer was getting married, which meant that a replacement would soon be needed and Pieter heard that his name had been put forward. It was an honor given only to a bachelor, for the standard-bearer was expected to wear the richest clothes and finest sashes with gold or silver fringes, all of which mounted up to a considerable financial outlay, and it had been agreed long since that a married man with other responsibilities should not be expected to take on this expense. In conversation during one of the meals Pieter had enjoyed in the Visser house, before being barred from there, Hendrick had talked of Frans Hals's only time in Amsterdam when he had been commissioned to paint the officers and subalterns of the Civil Guard.

"Hals was so homesick being away from Haarlem," Hendrick had said, "and he disliked Amsterdam so much that he only painted the left half of the painting and then went home again, leaving somebody else to finish it off. But you can be sure that the standard-bearer with his lace and silver, his white boots and golden spurs and his orange sash with enough fabric in it to make a woman's skirt was in Hals's completed section. The standard-bearer always draws the eye and Hals wouldn't have wanted his replacement to belittle that splendor."

Pieter, after being officially approached, agreed he should give his reply to the whole corps and he chose a moment about an hour after the start of a three-day banquet that had begun that evening. At these gatherings, restricted solely to officers and subalterns, music and singing provided breaks in the eating and drinking, the speeches and the toasts.

"You do me much honor, gentlemen," Pieter said, standing at his place and looking up and down the table at the seated company, "but I have to decline the esteemed appointment as standard-bearer that has been offered me."

"Are you taking a bride too?" someone shouted out jovially.

Smiling, Pieter shook his head. "Not yet. My reason is that I shall be in Amsterdam less and less during the months ahead and I wouldn't wish to be absent on any important occasion when a standard-bearer should be present."

There was a rumble of disappointment, but his reason was accepted. Pieter sat down again to enjoy two or three hours of good talk and feasting before he made his departure. When he did leave he had reached the hall when one of his fellow officers who had seen him go from the table came after him.

"Van Doorne! Wait a minute. Are you going already?"

"I'm returning to Haarlem tomorrow. I need to get some sleep."

"I won't delay you long, but you know the artist Hendrick Visser, I believe."

Pieter compressed his lips slightly. "I have an acquaintanceship of sorts with him."

"Good. A vote was taken at the last meeting, which you were unable to attend, that it was high time another group painting was commissioned. It's several years since the last one and there are many new faces among us now, including that of the captain. It was suggested that you should see the artist and talk terms and so forth."

Pieter nodded, welcoming a legitimate reason to break the ban of calling at the Visser house that had been placed on him. "I'll be pleased to do so. Out of interest, why was Master Visser selected?"

"One or two people had seen his work in the van Deventer house and also elsewhere."

"I'll call on him before I leave Amsterdam tomorrow and send you a written report from Haarlem afterward."

Next morning at the Visser house Griet expressed her pleasure at seeing Pieter again. "It's been such a long time, mijnheer! Come in."

"How are you, Griet?" he inquired.

"Very happy indeed. My sweetheart is home from the sea and we've become betrothed." She was so full of excitement that he guessed the betrothal was very recent.

"That's excellent news. My felicitations!"

"But I'll not be leaving here, because after we're wed he will be returning to sea before very long."

He regarded her with understanding. "It will not be easy for the two of you to part again, but I'm sure this household is very glad not to be losing you."

"I don't know how they would ever manage without me." Then she clapped a hand over her mouth. Heady with joy over this new turn of events in her life, she was not her usual discreet self that morning. "Take no notice of me, mijnheer. I'm forgetting myself. I'll tell the master you're here."

"You'd better state my business too." Pieter was not at all sure that Hendrick would see him otherwise. "Tell him I'm here to commission a group portrait on behalf of the Civil Guard."

It was not long before Pieter was shown into the studio. Hendrick was alone but at work. On his canvas people were at table and a richly robed man had risen to his feet with an expression of such fear and alarm on his face that Pieter guessed the subject to be Belshazzar's Feast. The paint had been built up thickly on the jeweled brocade cloak and Hendrick was carving it away with a knife to promote the rich texture.

"What's all this about a group painting?" Hendrick questioned gruffly without greeting, his eyes on his work. When what was needed had been explained to him he gave a snort. "I don't paint portraits on demand. I choose faces to my own liking."

"I remember Francesca telling me that." Pieter paused deliberately. "Before a ban was placed on our meeting."

"Why did you come here, then?" Hendrick shot at him with a scowl.