"The hour is close at hand, then," said the master, consulting a
horologe as large and as round as a full-grown orange. "Mynher
Vanderhausen, from Rotterdam--is it not so?" "Such was the name." "And an elderly man, richly clad?" continued Douw. "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 old
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, thou mayst wait for him, Godfrey, if you court
the acquaintance of a capricious burgomaster. As for me, I think our old
Leyden contains a sufficiency of such commodities, without an
importation from Rotterdam." Schalken laughed, as in duty bound; and, after a pause of some minutes,
Douw suddenly exclaimed,--

"What if it should all prove a jest, a piece of mummery got up by
Vankarp, or some such worthy! I wish you had run all risks, and
cudgelled the old burgomaster, stadholder, or whatever else he may be,
soundly. I would wager a dozen of Rhenish, his worship would have
pleaded old acquaintance before the third application." "Here he comes, sir," said Schalken, in a low, admonitory tone; and
instantly, upon turning towards the door, Gerard Douw observed the same
figure which had, on the day before, so unexpectedly greeted the vision
of his pupil Schalken. There was something in the air and mien of the figure which at once
satisfied the painter that there was no mummery in the case, and that he
really stood in the presence of a man of worship; and so, without
hesitation, he doffed his cap, and courteously saluting the stranger,
requested him to be seated. The visitor waved his hand slightly, as if in acknowledgment of the
courtesy, but remained standing. "I have the honour to see Mynher Vanderhausen, of Rotterdam?" said
Gerard Douw. "The same," was the laconic reply. "I understand your worship desires to speak with me," continued Douw,
"and I am here by appointment to wait your commands." "Is that a man of trust?" said Vanderhausen, turning towards Schalken,
who stood at a little distance behind his master. "Certainly," replied Gerard. "Then let him take this box and get the nearest jeweller or goldsmith to
value its contents, and let him return hither with a certificate of the
valuation." At the same time he placed a small case, about nine inches square, in
the hands of Gerard Douw, who was as much amazed at its weight as at the
strange abruptness with which it was handed to him. In accordance with the wishes of the stranger, he delivered it into the
hands of Schalken, and repeating _his_ directions, despatched him upon
the mission. Schalken disposed his precious charge securely beneath the folds of his
cloak, and rapidly traversing two or three narrow streets, he stopped at
a corner house, the lower part of which was then occupied by the shop of
a Jewish goldsmith. Schalken entered the shop, and calling the little Hebrew into the
obscurity of its back recesses, he proceeded to lay before him
Vanderhausen's packet. On being examined by the light of a lamp, it appeared entirely cased
with lead, the outer surface of which was much scraped and soiled, and
nearly white with age. This was with difficulty partially removed, and
disclosed beneath a box of some dark and singularly hard wood; this,
too, was forced, and after the removal of two or three folds of linen,
its contents proved to be a mass of golden ingots, close packed, and,
as the Jew declared, of the most perfect quality. Every ingot underwent the scrutiny of the little Jew, who seemed to feel
an epicurean delight in touching and testing these morsels of the
glorious metal; and each one of them was replaced in the box with the
exclamation,--

"_Mein Gott_, how very perfect! not one grain of alloy--beautiful,
beautiful!" The task was at length finished, and the Jew certified under his hand
that the value of the ingots submitted to his examination amounted to
many thousand rix-dollars. With the desired document in his bosom, and the rich box of gold
carefully pressed under his arm, and concealed by his cloak, he retraced
his way, and, entering the studio, found his master and the stranger in
close conference. Schalken had no sooner left the room, in order to execute the commission
he had taken in charge, than Vanderhausen addressed Gerard Douw in the
following terms:

"I may not tarry with you to-night more than a few minutes, and so I
shall briefly tell you the matter upon which I come. You visited the
town of Rotterdam some four months ago, and then I saw in the church of
St. Lawrence your niece, Rose Velderkaust. I desire to marry her, and if
I satisfy you as to the fact that I am very wealthy--more wealthy than
any husband you could dream of for her--I expect that you will forward
my views to the utmost of your authority. If you approve my proposal,
you must close with it at once, for I cannot command time enough to wait
for calculations and delays." Gerard Douw was, perhaps, as much astonished as anyone could be by the
very unexpected nature of Mynher Vanderhausen's communication; but he
did not give vent to any unseemly expression of surprise. In addition to
the motives supplied by prudence and politeness, the painter experienced
a kind of chill and oppressive sensation--a feeling like that which
is supposed to affect a man who is placed unconsciously in immediate
contact with something to which he has a natural antipathy--an undefined
horror and dread--while standing in the presence of the eccentric
stranger, which made him very unwilling to say anything that might
reasonably prove offensive. "I have no doubt," said Gerard, after two or three prefatory hems, "that
the connection which you propose would prove alike advantageous and
honourable to my niece; but you must be aware that she has a will of her
own, and may not acquiesce in what _we_ may design for her advantage." "Do not seek to deceive me, Sir Painter," said Vanderhausen; "you are
her guardian--she is your ward. She is mine if _you_ like to make her
so." The man of Rotterdam moved forward a little as he spoke, and Gerard
Douw, he scarce knew why, inwardly prayed for the speedy return of
Schalken. "I desire," said the mysterious gentleman, "to place in your hands at
once an evidence of my wealth, and a security for my liberal dealing
with your niece. The lad will return in a minute or two with a sum in
value five times the fortune which she has a right to expect from a
husband. This shall lie in your hands, together with her dowry, and you
may apply the united sum as suits her interest best; it shall be all
exclusively hers while she lives. Is that liberal?"