driver suddenly drew up at a small inn on the dike outside of the city
of Antwerp. The landlady and groom instantly sallied forth, and by their
profound salutations and civility exhibited their marked respect for a
well-known stranger.

"It's a fine day, Monsieur Vlierbeck, isn't it?" said the dame; "yet
it's a trifle warm, however. Don't you think it would be well for the
high-grounds if we had a sprinkle more of rain, Monsieur Vlierbeck?
Shall we give the horse some hay, Monsieur Vlierbeck? But stay: I see,
now, your coachman has brought his hay with him. Will you take anything,
Monsieur Vlierbeck?"

While the hostess was pouring forth this torrent of questions, Monsieur
De Vlierbeck got out of the vehicle, and, entering the house, addressed
the most flattering compliments to the dame about her good looks,
inquired as to the health of each of her children, and finished by
apprizing her that he was obliged to be in town instantly. Thereupon,
shaking her cordially by the hand, yet with a condescending air that
marked and preserved the distance between them, he gave his orders to
his lackey, and, with a farewell bow, walked toward the bridge leading
into the city.

At a solitary spot on the outer rampart Monsieur De Vlierbeck stopped,
looked round as if to see if any one was observing him, dusted his
garments, brushed his hat with a handkerchief, and then passed on
through the Porte Rouge into the city of Antwerp.

As he entered a town where he was likely to find himself constantly an
object of notice, he assumed a lofty carriage and self-satisfied air,
which might have deceived any one into the belief that he was the