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Strangers if any ever come to Quiquendone do not quit the curious old town until they have visited its "Stadtholder's Hall", adorned by a full-length portrait of William of Nassau, by Brandon; the loft of the Church of Saint Magloire, a masterpiece of sixteenth century architecture; the cast-iron well in the spacious Place Saint Ernuph, the admirable ornamentation of which is attributed to the artist-blacksmith, Quentin Metsys; the tomb formerly erected to Mary of Burgundy, daughter of Charles the Bold, who now reposes in the Church of Notre Dame at Bruges; and so on.
"How high it is!" said the burgomaster, passing his handkerchief over his rubicund face. "Very high!" returned the counsellor. "Do you know that we have gone fourteen feet higher than the Church of Saint Michael at Hamburg?" "I know it," replied the burgomaster, in a tone of vanity very pardonable in the chief magistrate of Quiquendone.
But for all that it was an imposing structure; the Roman pillars and Byzantine arches of which would appear to advantage lit up by the oxyhydric gas. Pretty well everything was acted at the theatre of Quiquendone; but the opera and the opera comique were especially patronized.
"This lapse of time is necessary to complete our work," returned Doctor Ox. "The workmen, whom we have had to choose in Quiquendone, are not very expeditious." "How not expeditious?" cried the burgomaster, who seemed to take the remark as personally offensive. "No, Monsieur Van Tricasse," replied Doctor Ox obstinately.
Do you not know that in Quiquendone nothing more is needed to bring about extremely disastrous results? But monsieur, if you, or any one else, presume to speak thus to me " "Or to me," added Niklausse.
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