rhausen, of Rotterdam! I never
heard of the man till yesterday. What can he want of me? A portrait,
perhaps, to be painted; or a poor relation to be apprenticed; or a
collection to be valued; or--pshaw! there's no one in Rotterdam to leave
me a legacy. Well, whatever the business may be, we shall soon know it
all."

It was now the close of day, and again every easel, except that of
Schalken, was deserted. Gerard Douw was pacing the apartment with the
restless step of impatient expectation, sometimes pausing to glance over
the work of one of his absent pupils, but more frequently placing
himself at the window, from whence he might observe the passengers who
threaded the obscure by-street in which his studio was placed.

"Said you not, Godfrey," exclaimed Douw, after a long and fruitful gaze
from his post of observation, and turning to Schalken, "that the hour he
appointed was about seven by the clock of the Stadhouse?"

"It had just told seven when I first saw him, sir," answered the
student.

"The hour is close at hand, then," said the master, consulting a
horologe as large and as round as an orange. "Minheer Vanderhausen from
Rotterdam--is it not so?"

"Such was the name."

"And an elderly man, richly clad?" pursued Douw, musingly.

"As well as I might see," replied his pupil; "he could not be young, nor
yet very old, neither; and his dress was rich and grave, as might become
a citizen of wealth and consideration."

At this moment the sonorous boom of the Stadhouse clock told, stroke
after stroke, the hour of seven; the eyes of both master and student
were directed to the door; and it was not until the last peal of the
bell had ceased to vibrate, that Douw exclaimed----

"So, so; we shall have his worship presently, that is, if he means to
keep his hour; if not, you may wait for him, Godfrey, if you court his
acquaintance. But what, after all, if it should prove but a mummery got
up by Vankarp, or some such wag? I wish you had run all risks, and
cudgelled the old burgomaster soundly. I'd wager a dozen of Rhenish, his
worship would have unmasked, and pleaded old acquaintance in a trice."

"Here he comes, sir," said Schalken, in a low monitory tone; and
instantly, upon turning towards the door, Gerard Douw observed the same
figure which had, on the day before, so unexpectedly greeted his pupil
Schalken.

There was something in the air of the figure which at once satisfied the
painter that there was no masqu