figure paused also, and, turning gently round, displayed, by the light
of the lamp it carried, the face and features of his first love, Rose
Velderkaust. There was nothing horrible, or even sad, in the
countenance. On the contrary, it wore the same arch smile which used to
enchant the artist long before in his happy days. A feeling of awe and
interest, too intense to be resisted, prompted him to follow the
spectre, if spectre it were. She descended the stairs--he followed--and
turning to the left, through a narrow passage, she led him, to his
infinite surprise, into what appeared to be an old-fashioned Dutch
apartment, such as the pictures of Gerard Douw have served to
immortalize. Abundance of costly antique furniture was disposed about
the room, and in one corner stood a four-post bed, with heavy black
cloth curtains around it; the figure frequently turned towards him with
the same arch smile; and when she came to the side of the bed, she drew
the curtains, and, by the light of the lamp, which she held towards its
contents, she disclosed to the horror-stricken painter, sitting bolt
upright in the bed, the livid and demoniac form of Vanderhausen.
Schalken had hardly seen him, when he fell senseless upon the floor,
where he lay until discovered, on the next morning, by persons employed
in closing the passages into the vaults. He was lying in a cell of
considerable size, which had not been disturbed for a long time, and he
had fallen beside a large coffin, which was supported upon small
pillars, a security against the attacks of vermin.

To his dying day Schalken was satisfied of the reality of the vision
which he had witnessed, and he has left behind him a curious evidence of
the impression which it wrought upon his fancy, in a painting executed
shortly after the event I have narrated, and which is valuable as
exhibiting not only the peculiarities which have made Schalken's
pictures sought after, but even more so as presenting a portrait of his