likewise, led her, weeping bitterly, and wringing her hands, to the
litter, which they both entered. It was then raised by the men who
surrounded it, and speedily carried towards the city, and before it had
proceeded very far, the darkness concealed it from the view of the Dutch
coachman. In the inside of the vehicle he found a purse, whose contents
more than thrice paid the hire of the carriage and man. He saw and could
tell nothing more of Minheer Vanderhausen and his beautiful lady.

This mystery was a source of profound anxiety and even grief to Gerard
Douw. There was evidently fraud in the dealing of Vanderhausen with him,
though for what purpose committed he could not imagine. He greatly
doubted how far it was possible for a man possessing such a countenance
to be anything but a villain, and every day that passed without his
hearing from or of his niece, instead of inducing him to forget his
fears, on the contrary tended more and more to aggravate them. The loss
of her cheerful society tended also to depress his spirits; and in order
to dispel the gloom, which often crept upon his mind after his daily
occupations were over, he was wont frequently to ask Schalken to
accompany him home, and share his otherwise solitary supper.

One evening, the painter and his pupil were sitting by the fire, having
accomplished a comfortable meal, and had yielded to the silent and
delicious melancholy of digestion, when their ruminations were disturbed
by a loud sound at the street door, as if occasioned by some person
rushing and scrambling vehemently against it. A domestic had run without
delay to ascertain the cause of the disturbance, and they heard him
twice or thrice interrogate the applicant for admission, but without
eliciting any other answer but a sustained reiteration of the sounds.
They heard him then open the hall-door, and immediately there followed a
light and rapid tread on the staircase. Schalken advanced towards the