for some bad purpose? This last suggestion
filled the mind of Schalken with a
vague horror, 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 ap-
peared very disproportioned to the
occasion, he summoned resolution to leave
the room, and, having double-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.

'Mynher Vanderhausen,' said Gerard
Douw within himself, as the appointed
hour approached, 'Mynher Vanderhausen
of Rotterdam! I never heard of the man
till yesterday. What can he want of me?
A portrait, perhaps, to be painted; or a
younger son or a poor relation to be
apprenticed; or a collection to be valued; or
--pshaw I there's no one in Rotterdam to
leave me a legacy. Well, whatever the
business may be, we shall soon know it all.'