und shadow. It would not have been easy to conjecture
the age of the intruder; but a quantity of dark hair escaping from
beneath this sombre hat, as well as his firm and upright carriage served
to indicate that his years could not yet exceed threescore, or
thereabouts. There was an air of gravity and importance about the garb
of the person, and something indescribably odd, I might say awful, in
the perfect, stone-like stillness of the figure, that effectually
checked the testy comment which had at once risen to the lips of the
irritated artist. He, therefore, as soon as he had sufficiently
recovered his surprise, asked the stranger, civilly, to be seated, and
desired to know if he had any message to leave for his master.

"Tell Gerard Douw," said the unknown, without altering his attitude in
the smallest degree, "that Minheer Vanderhausen, of Rotterdam, desires
to speak with him on tomorrow evening at this hour, and if he please, in
this room, upon matters of weight; that is all."

The stranger, having finished this message, turned abruptly, and, with a
quick, but silent step quitted the room, before Schalken had time to say
a word in reply. The young man felt a curiosity to see in what direction
the burgher of Rotterdam would turn, on quitting the studio, and for
that purpose he went directly to the window which commanded the door. A
lobby of considerable extent intervened between the inner door of the
painter's room and the street entrance, so that Schalken occupied the
post of observation before the old man could possibly have reached the
street. He watched in vain, however. There was no other mode of exit.
Had the queer old man vanished, or was he lurking about the recesses of
the lobby for some sinister purpose? This last suggestion filled the
mind of Schalken with a vague uneasiness, which was so unaccountably
intense as to make him alike afraid to remain in the room alone, and
reluctant to pass through the lobby. However, with an effort which
appeared very disproportioned to the occasion, he summoned resolution to
leave the room, and, having locked the door and thrust the key in his
pocket, without looking to the right or left, he traversed the passage
which had so recently, perhaps still, contained the person of his
mysterious visitant, scarcely venturing to breathe till he had arrived
in the open street.

"Minheer Vanderhausen!" said Gerard Douw within himself, as the
appointed hour approached, "Minheer Vande