Schalken the Painter - Joseph Le Fanu

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Schalken the Painter

Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu

blished: 1851

tegorie(s): Fiction, Occult & Supernatural, Supernatural Creatures, Ghost, Horror,

ort Stories

urce: http://gutenberg.org



bout Le Fanu:

Sheridan Le Fanu was born at No. 45 Lower Dominick Ste

ublin, into a literary family of Huguenot origins. Both h

andmother Alicia Sheridan Le Fanu and his great-uncle Richa

insley Sheridan were playwrights. His niece Rhoda Brought

ould become a very successful novelist. Within a year of his birth h

mily moved to the Royal Hibernian Military School in Phoenix Pa

here his father, an Anglican clergyman, was the chaplain of t

tablishment. Phoenix Park and the adjacent village and par

urch of Chapelizod were to feature in Le Fanu's later stories.

anu studied law at Trinity College in Dublin, where he was elect

uditor of the College Historical Society. He was called to the bar

39, but he never practised and soon abandoned law for journalis1838 he began contributing stories to the Dublin Univers

agazine, including his first ghost story, entitled "A Strange Event

e Life of Schalken the Painter" (1839). He became owner

veral newspapers from 1840, including the Dublin Evening M

d the Warder. In 1844 Le Fanu married Susanna Bennett, th

ughter of a leading Dublin barrister. In 1847 he supported Jotchell and Thomas Meagher in their campaign against t

difference of the Government to the Irish Famine. His support co

m the nomination as Tory MP for County Carlow in 1852. H

rsonal life also became difficult at this time, as his wife Susan

ffered from increasing neurotic symptoms. She died in 1858

clear circumstances, and anguished excerpts from Le Fan

aries suggest that he felt guilt as well as loss. However, it was on

er her death that, becoming something of a recluse, he devot

mself full time to writing. In 1861 he became the editor a

oprietor of the Dublin University Magazine and he began exploiti

uble exposure: serializing in the Dublin University Magazine a

en revising for the English market. The House by the Churchya

d Wylder's Hand were both published in this way. After thkewarm reviews of the former novel, set in the Phoenix Park area



ublin, Le Fanu signed a contract with Richard Bentley, his Lond

blisher, which specified that future novels be stories "of an Engli

bject and of modern times", a step Bentley thought necessary

der for Le Fanu to satisfy the English audience. Le Fa

cceeded in this aim in 1864, with the publication of Uncle Sila

hich he set in Derbyshire. In his very last short stories, however,

anu returned to Irish folklore as an inspiration and encouraged hend Patrick Kennedy to contribute folklore to the D.U.M. Le Fa

ed in his native Dublin on February 7, 1873. Today there is a roa

Ballyfermot, near his childhood home in south-west Dublin, nam

er him. Source: Wikipedia

so available on Feedbooks Le Fanu:

A Stable for Nightmares (1896)

Carmilla (1871)

Uncle Silas (1864)

The Child That Went With The Fairies (1870)

An Account of Some Strange Disturbances in Aungier Stree(1853)

An Authentic Narrative of a Haunted House (1862)

Ghost Stories of Chapelizod (1851)

The House by the Church-Yard (1863)

The Evil Guest (1851)

The Mysterious Lodger (1850)

ote: This book is brought to you by Feedbooks

p://www.feedbooks.com

rictly for personal use, do not use this file for commercial purpose



or he is not a man as I am that we should come together; neith

there any that might lay his hand upon us both. Let hi

erefore, take his rod away from me, and let not his fear terrify meThere exists, at this moment, in good preservation a remarkab

ork of Schalken's. The curious management of its lights constitute

usual in his pieces, the chief apparent merit of the picture. I s

pparent , for in its subject, and not in its handling, however exquisi

nsists its real value. The picture represents the interior of wh

ght be a chamber in some antique religious building; and

reground is occupied by a female figure, in a species of white rob

rt of which is arranged so as to form a veil. The dress, however,

t that of any religious order. In her hand the figure bears a lamp,

hich alone her figure and face are illuminated; and her featurear such an arch smile, as well becomes a pretty woman wh

actising some prankish roguery; in the background, and, excepti

here the dim red light of an expiring fire serves to define the form,

al shadow, stands the figure of a man dressed in the old Flemi

shion, in an attitude of alarm, his hand being placed upon the hilt

s sword, which he appears to be in the act of drawing.There are some pictures, which impress one, I know not how, w

conviction that they represent not the mere ideal shapes a

mbinations which have floated through the imagination of the arti

t scenes, faces, and situations which have actually existed. The

in that strange picture, something that stamps it as t

presentation of a reality.And such in truth it is, for it faithfully records a remarkable a

ysterious occurrence, and perpetuates, in the face of the fema

ure, which occupies the most prominent place in the design,

curate portrait of Rose Velderkaust, the niece of Gerard Douw, th

st, and, I believe, the only love of Godfrey Schalken. My gre

andfather knew the painter well; and from Schalken himself

arned the fearful story of the painting, and from him too he ultimat

ceived the picture itself as a bequest. The story and the pictu



ve become heir-looms in my family, and having described t

ter, I shall, if you please, attempt to relate the tradition which h

scended with the canvas.

There are few forms on which the mantle of romance hangs mo

gracefully than upon that of the uncouth Schalken—the boorish b

ost cunning worker in oils, whose pieces delight the critics of o

y almost as much as his manners disgusted the refined of his owd yet this man, so rude, so dogged, so slovenly, in the midst of h

lebrity, had in his obscure, but happier days, played the hero in

d romance of mystery and passion.

When Schalken studied under the immortal Gerard Douw, he w

very young man; and in spite of his phlegmatic temperament, he

ce fell over head and ears in love with the beautiful niece of healthy master. Rose Velderkaust was still younger than he, havin

t yet attained her seventeenth year, and, if tradition speaks tru

ssessed all the soft and dimpling charms of the fair, light-hair

emish maidens. The young painter loved honestly and fervently. H

ank adoration was rewarded. He declared his love, and extracted

tering confession in return. He was the happiest and proudeinter in all Christendom. But there was somewhat to dash h

ation; he was poor and undistinguished. He dared not ask o

erard for the hand of his sweet ward. He must first win a reputati

d a competence.

There were, therefore, many dread uncertainties and cold da

fore him; he had to fight his way against sore odds. But he h

on the heart of dear Rose Velderkaust, and that was half the batt

is needless to say his exertions were redoubled, and his lasti

lebrity proves that his industry was not unrewarded by success.

These ardent labours, and worse still, the hopes that elevated a

guiled them, were however, destined to experience a sudd

erruption—of a character so strange and mysterious as to baffle

quiry and to throw over the events themselves a shadow eternatural horror.



Schalken had one evening outstayed all his fellow-pupils, and s

rsued his work in the deserted room. As the daylight was fa

ling, he laid aside his colours, and applied himself to t

mpletion of a sketch on which he had expressed extraordina

ins. It was a religious composition, and represented t

mptations of a pot-bellied Saint Anthony. The young artist, howev

stitute of elevation, had, nevertheless, discernment enough to ssatisfied with his own work, and many were the patient erasur

d improvements which saint and devil underwent, yet all in va

e large, old-fashioned room was silent, and, with the exception

mself, quite emptied of its usual inmates. An hour had thus pass

way, nearly two, without any improved result. Daylight had alrea

clined, and twilight was deepening into the darkness of night. Ttience of the young painter was exhausted, and he stood befo

s unfinished production, angry and mortified, one hand buried in t

ds of his long hair, and the other holding the piece of charco

hich had so ill-performed its office, and which he now rubbe

thout much regard to the sable streaks it produced, with irritab

essure upon his ample Flemish inexpressibles. "Curse tbject!" said the young man aloud; "curse the picture, the devils, t

int—"

At this moment a short, sudden sniff uttered close beside h

ade the artist turn sharply round, and he now, for the first tim

came aware that his labours had been overlooked by a strange

thin about a yard and half, and rather behind him, there stood t

ure of an elderly man in a cloak and broad-brimmed, conical hat

s hand, which was protected with a heavy gauntlet-shaped glov

carried a long ebony walking-stick, surmounted with wh

peared, as it glittered dimly in the twilight, to be a massive head

ld, and upon his breast, through the folds of the cloak, there sho

e links of a rich chain of the same metal. The room was so obscu

at nothing further of the appearance of the figure could certained, and his hat threw his features into profound shadow



ould not have been easy to conjecture the age of the intruder; bu

antity of dark hair escaping from beneath this sombre hat, as w

his firm and upright carriage served to indicate that his yea

uld not yet exceed threescore, or thereabouts. There was an air

avity and importance about the garb of the person, and somethi

describably odd, I might say awful, in the perfect, stone-like stillne

the figure, that effectually checked the testy comment which hadce risen to the lips of the irritated artist. He, therefore, as soon

had sufficiently recovered his surprise, asked the stranger, civil

be seated, and desired to know if he had any message to leave

s master.

"Tell Gerard Douw," said the unknown, without altering his attitud

the smallest degree, "that Minheer Vanderhausen, of Rotterdasires to speak with him on tomorrow evening at this hour, and if

ease, in this room, upon matters of weight; that is all."

The stranger, having finished this message, turned abruptly, an

th a quick, but silent step quitted the room, before Schalken h

me to say a word in reply. The young man felt a curiosity to see

hat direction the burgher of Rotterdam would turn, on quitting tudio, and for that purpose he went directly to the window wh

mmanded the door. A lobby of considerable extent intervene

tween the inner door of the painter's room and the street entranc

that Schalken occupied the post of observation before the o

an could possibly have reached the street. He watched in va

wever. There was no other mode of exit. Had the queer old m

nished, or was he lurking about the recesses of the lobby for som

nister purpose? This last suggestion filled the mind of Schalk

th a vague uneasiness, which was so unaccountably intense as

ake him alike afraid to remain in the room alone, and reluctant

ss through the lobby. However, with an effort which appeared ve

sproportioned to the occasion, he summoned resolution to lea

e room, and, having locked the door and thrust the key in hcket, without looking to the right or left, he traversed the passa



hich had so recently, perhaps still, contained the person of h

ysterious visitant, scarcely venturing to breathe till he had arrived

e open street.

"Minheer Vanderhausen!" said Gerard Douw within himself, as t

pointed hour approached, "Minheer Vanderhausen, of Rotterda

ever heard of the man till yesterday. What can he want of me?

rtrait, perhaps, to be painted; or a poor relation to be apprenticea collection to be valued; or—pshaw! there's no one in Rotterda

leave me a legacy. Well, whatever the business may be, we sh

on know it all."

It was now the close of day, and again every easel, except that

chalken, was deserted. Gerard Douw was pacing the apartme

th the restless step of impatient expectation, sometimes pausingance over the work of one of his absent pupils, but more frequen

acing himself at the window, from whence he might observe t

ssengers who threaded the obscure by-street in which his stud

as placed.

"Said you not, Godfrey," exclaimed Douw, after a long and fruit

ze from his post of observation, and turning to Schalken, "that tur he appointed was about seven by the clock of the Stadhouse?

"It had just told seven when I first saw him, sir," answered t

udent.

"The hour is close at hand, then," said the master, consulting

rologe as large and as round as an orange. "Minhe

anderhausen from Rotterdam—is it not so?"

"Such was the name."

"And an elderly man, richly clad?" pursued Douw, musingly.

"As well as I might see," replied his pupil; "he could not be youn

r yet very old, neither; and his dress was rich and grave, as mig

come a citizen of wealth and consideration."

At this moment the sonorous boom of the Stadhouse clock to

oke after stroke, the hour of seven; the eyes of both master audent were directed to the door; and it was not until the last peal



e bell had ceased to vibrate, that Douw exclaimed——

"So, so; we shall have his worship presently, that is, if he means

ep his hour; if not, you may wait for him, Godfrey, if you court h

quaintance. But what, after all, if it should prove but a mummery g

by Vankarp, or some such wag? I wish you had run all risks, a

dgelled the old burgomaster soundly. I'd wager a dozen of Rhenis

s worship would have unmasked, and pleaded old acquaintancerice."

"Here he comes, sir," said Schalken, in a low monitory tone; a

stantly, upon turning towards the door, Gerard Douw observed th

me figure which had, on the day before, so unexpectedly greet

s pupil Schalken.

There was something in the air of the figure which at once satisfie painter that there was no masquerading in the case, and that

ally stood in the presence of a man of worship; and so, witho

sitation, he doffed his cap, and courteously saluting the strang

quested him to be seated. The visitor waved his hand slightly, as

acknowledgment of the courtesy, but remained standing.

"I have the honour to see Minheer Vanderhausen of Rotterdamid Gerard Douw.

"The same," was the laconic reply of his visitor.

"I understand your worship desires to speak with me," continu

ouw, "and I am here by appointment to wait your commands."

"Is that a man of trust?" said Vanderhausen, turning towar

chalken, who stood at a little distance behind his master.

"Certainly," replied Gerard.

"Then let him take this box, and get the nearest jeweller

ldsmith to value its contents, and let him return hither with

rtificate of the valuation."

At the same time, he placed a small case about nine inch

uare in the hands of Gerard Douw, who was as much amazed

weight as at the strange abruptness with which it was handed m. In accordance with the wishes of the stranger, he delivered it in



e hands of Schalken, and repeating his direction, despatched h

on the mission.

Schalken disposed his precious charge securely beneath the fol

his cloak, and rapidly traversing two or three narrow streets,

opped at a corner house, the lower part of which was then occupi

the shop of a Jewish goldsmith. He entered the shop, and calli

e little Hebrew into the obscurity of its back recesses, oceeded to lay before him Vanderhausen's casket. On bei

amined by the light of a lamp, it appeared entirely cased with lea

e outer surface of which was much scraped and soiled, and nea

hite with age. This having been partially removed, there appear

neath a box of some hard wood; which also they forced open a

er the removal of two or three folds of linen, they discovered ntents to be a mass of golden ingots, closely packed, and, as t

w declared, of the most perfect quality. Every ingot underwent t

rutiny of the little Jew, who seemed to feel an epicurean delight

uching and testing these morsels of the glorious metal; and ea

e of them was replaced in its berth with the exclamation: "Me

ott , how very perfect! not one grain of alloy—beautiful, beautifue task was at length finished, and the Jew certified under his ha

e value of the ingots submitted to his examination, to amount

any thousand rix-dollars. With the desired document in his pock

d the rich box of gold carefully pressed under his arm, a

ncealed by his cloak, he retraced his way, and entering the stud

und his master and the stranger in close conference. Schalken h

sooner left the room, in order to execute the commission he h

ken in charge, than Vanderhausen addressed Gerard Douw in t

lowing terms:——

"I cannot tarry with you to-night more than a few minutes, and s

all shortly tell you the matter upon which I come. You visited t

wn of Rotterdam some four months ago, and then I saw in t

urch of St. Lawrence your niece, Rose Velderkaust. I desire arry her; and if I satisfy you that I am wealthier than any husband y



n dream of for her, I expect that you will forward my suit with yo

thority. If you approve my proposal, you must close with it here a

w, for I cannot wait for calculations and delays."

Gerard Douw was hugely astonished by the nature of Minhe

anderhausen's communication, but he did not venture to expre

rprise; for besides the motives supplied by prudence a

liteness, the painter experienced a kind of chill and oppression liat which is said to intervene when one is placed in unconscio

oximity with the object of a natural antipathy—an undefined b

erpowering sensation, while standing in the presence of t

centric stranger, which made him very unwilling to say anythi

hich might reasonably offend him.

"I have no doubt," said Gerard, after two or three prefatory hemat the alliance which you propose would prove alike advantageo

d honourable to my niece; but you must be aware that she has

l of her own, and may not acquiesce in what we may design for h

vantage."

"Do not seek to deceive me, sir painter," said Vanderhausen; "y

e her guardian—she is your ward—she is mine if you like to mar so."

The man of Rotterdam moved forward a little as he spoke, a

erard Douw, he scarce knew why, inwardly prayed for the spee

turn of Schalken.

"I desire," said the mysterious gentleman, "to place in your han

once an evidence of my wealth, and a security for my libe

aling with your niece. The lad will return in a minute or two with

m in value five times the fortune which she has a right to expe

m her husband. This shall lie in your hands, together with h

wry, and you may apply the united sum as suits her interest best

all be all exclusively hers while she lives: is that liberal?"

Douw assented, and inwardly acknowledged that fortune had be

traordinarily kind to his niece; the stranger, he thought, must th wealthy and generous, and such an offer was not to



spised, though made by a humourist, and one of no ve

epossessing presence. Rose had no very high pretensions for s

d but a modest dowry, which she owed entirely to the generosity

r uncle; neither had she any right to raise exceptions on the sco

birth, for her own origin was far from splendid, and as the oth

jections, Gerald resolved, and indeed, by the usages of the tim

as warranted in resolving, not to listen to them for a moment."Sir" said he, addressing the stranger, "your offer is liberal, a

hatever hesitation I may feel in closing with it immediately, aris

lely from my not having the honour of knowing anything of yo

mily or station. Upon these points you can, of course, satisfy m

thout difficulty?'

"As to my respectability," said the stranger, drily, "you must taat for granted at present; pester me with no inquiries; you c

scover nothing more about me than I choose to make known. Y

all have sufficient security for my respectability—my word, if y

e honourable: if you are sordid, my gold."

"A testy old gentleman," thought Douw, "he must have his own wa

t, all things considered, I am not justified to declining his offer. I wt pledge myself unnecessarily, however."

"You will not pledge yourself unnecessarily," said Vanderhause

angely uttering the very words which had just floated through t

nd of his companion; "but you will do so if it is necessary

esume; and I will show you that I consider it indispensable. If t

ld I mean to leave in your hands satisfy you, and if you don't w

y proposal to be at once withdrawn, you must, before I leave th

om, write your name to this engagement."

Having thus spoken, he placed a paper in the hands of the mast

e contents of which expressed an engagement entered into

erard Douw, to give to Wilken Vanderhausen of Rotterdam,

arriage, Rose Velderkaust, and so forth, within one week of t

te thereof. While the painter was employed in reading thvenant, by the light of a twinkling oil lamp in the far wall of the roo



chalken, as we have stated, entered the studio, and havi

livered the box and the valuation of the Jew, into the hands of t

anger, he was about to retire, when Vanderhausen called to him

ait; and, presenting the case and the certificate to Gerard Douw,

used in silence until he had satisfied himself, by an inspection

th, respecting the value of the pledge left in his hands. At length

id——"Are you content?"

The painter said he would fain have another day to consider.

"Not an hour," said the suitor, apathetically.

"Well then," said Douw, with a sore effort, "I am content, it is

rgain."

"Then sign at once," said Vanderhausen, "for I am weary."At the same time he produced a small case of writing materia

d Gerard signed the important document.

"Let this youth witness the covenant," said the old man; a

odfrey Schalken unconsciously attested the instrument which

er bereft him of his dear Rose Velderkaust.

The compact being thus completed, the strange visitor folded e paper, and stowed it safely in an inner pocket.

"I will visit you to-morrow night at nine o'clock, at your own hous

erard Douw, and will see the object of our contract;" and so sayi

lken Vanderhausen moved stiffly, but rapidly, out of the room.

Schalken, eager to resolve his doubts, had placed himself by t

ndow, in order to watch the street entrance; but the experime

rved only to support his suspicions, for the old man did not iss

m the door. This was very strange, odd, nay fearful. He and h

aster returned together, and talked but little on the way, for ea

d his own subjects of reflection, of anxiety, and of hope. Schalke

wever, did not know the ruin which menaced his dearest projects

Gerard Douw knew nothing of the attachment which had sprung

tween his pupil and his niece; and even if he had, it is doubthether he would have regarded its existence as any serio



struction to the wishes of Minheer Vanderhausen. Marriages we

en and there matters of traffic and calculation; and it would ha

peared as absurd in the eyes of the guardian to make a mutu

achment an essential element in a contract of the sort, as it wou

ve been to draw up his bonds and receipts in the language

mance.

The painter, however, did not communicate to his niece thportant step which he had taken in her behalf, a forebearan

used not by any anticipated opposition on her part, but solely by

dicrous consciousness that if she were to ask him for a descripti

her destined bridegroom, he would be forced to confess that

d not once seen his face, and if called upon, would find

solutely impossible to identify him. Upon the next day, Geraouw, after dinner, called his niece to him and having scanned h

rson with an air of satisfaction, he took her hand, and looking up

r pretty innocent face with a smile of kindness, he said:——

"Rose, my girl, that face of yours will make your fortune." Ro

ushed and smiled. "Such faces and such tempers seldom

gether, and when they do, the compound is a love charm, feads or hearts can resist; trust me, you will soon be a bride, girl. B

s is trifling, and I am pressed for time, so make ready the lar

om by eight o'clock to-night, and give directions for supper at nine

pect a friend; and observe me, child, do you trick yourself o

ndsomely. I will not have him think us poor or sluttish."

With these words he left her, and took his way to the room in whi

s pupils worked.

When the evening closed in, Gerard called Schalken, who w

out to take his departure to his own obscure and comfortle

dgings, and asked him to come home and sup with Rose a

anderhausen. The invitation was, of course, accepted and Gera

ouw and his pupil soon found themselves in the handsome an

en then, antique chamber, which had been prepared for tception of the stranger. A cheerful wood fire blazed in the hearth,



e at one side of which an old-fashioned table, which shone in t

e-light like burnished gold, was awaiting the supper, for whi

eparations were going forward; and ranged with exact regulari

ood the tall-backed chairs, whose ungracefulness was more th

mpensated by their comfort. The little party, consisting of Rose, h

cle, and the artist, awaited the arrival of the expected visitor w

nsiderable impatience. Nine o'clock at length came, and with itmmons at the street door, which being speedily answered, w

lowed by a slow and emphatic tread upon the staircase; the ste

oved heavily across the lobby, the door of the room in which t

rty we have described were assembled slowly opened, and the

tered a figure which startled, almost appalled, the phlegma

utchmen, and nearly made Rose scream with terror. It was the ford arrayed in the garb of Minheer Vanderhausen; the air, the ga

e height were the same, but the features had never been seen

y of the party before. The stranger stopped at the door of the roo

d displayed his form and face completely. He wore a da

loured cloth cloak, which was short and full, not falling quite to h

ees; his legs were cased in dark purple silk stockings, and hoes were adorned with roses of the same colour. The opening

e cloak in front showed the under-suit to consist of some very da

rhaps sable material, and his hands were enclosed in a pair

avy leather gloves, which ran up considerably above the wrist,

e manner of a gauntlet. In one hand he carried his walking-stick a

s hat, which he had removed, and the other hung heavily by h

de. A quantity of grizzled hair descended in long tresses from h

ad, and rested upon the plaits of a stiff ruff, which effectua

ncealed his neck. So far all was well; but the face!—all the flesh

e face was coloured with the bluish leaden hue, which is sometim

oduced by metallic medicines, administered in excessi

antities; the eyes showed an undue proportion of muddy white, a

d a certain indefinable character of insanity; the hue of the liaring the usual relation to that of the face, was, consequent



arly black; and the entire character of the face was sensu

alignant, and even satanic. It was remarkable that the worship

ranger suffered as little as possible of his flesh to appear, and th

ring his visit he did not once remove his gloves. Having stood f

me moments at the door, Gerard Douw at length found breath a

llectedness to bid him welcome, and with a mute inclination of t

ad, the stranger stepped forward into the room. There wmething indescribably odd, even horrible, about all his motion

mething undefinable, that was unnatural, unhuman; it was as if t

mbs were guided and directed by a spirit unused to t

anagement of bodily machinery. The stranger spoke hardly at

ring his visit, which did not exceed half an hour; and the ho

mself could scarcely muster courage enough to utter the fecessary salutations and courtesies; and, indeed, such was t

rvous terror which the presence of Vanderhausen inspired, th

ry little would have made all his entertainers fly in downright pan

m the room. They had not so far lost all self-possession, howev

to fail to observe two strange peculiarities of their visitor. Duri

s stay his eyelids did not once close, or, indeed, move in tghtest degree; and farther, there was a deathlike stillness in h

hole person, owing to the absence of the heaving motion of t

est, caused by the process of respiration. These two peculiaritie

ough when told they may appear trifling, produced a very striki

d unpleasant effect when seen and observed. Vanderhausen

ngth relieved the painter of Leyden of his inauspicious presenc

d with no trifling sense of relief the little party heard the street do

ose after him.

"Dear uncle," said Rose, "what a frightful man! I would not see h

ain for the wealth of the States."

"Tush, foolish girl," said Douw, whose sensations were anythin

t comfortable. "A man may be as ugly as the devil, and yet, if h

art and actions are good, he is worth all the pretty-faced perfumppies that walk the Mall. Rose, my girl, it is very true he has not t



etty face, but I know him to be wealthy and liberal; and were he t

mes more ugly, these two virtues would be enough to coun

lance all his deformity, and if not sufficient actually to alter t

ape and hue of his features, at least enough to prevent one thinki

em so much amiss."

"Do you know, uncle," said Rose, "when I saw him standing at t

or, I could not get it out of my head that I saw the old paintooden figure that used to frighten me so much in the Church of

urence at Rotterdam."

Gerard laughed, though he could not help inwardly acknowledgi

e justness of the comparison. He was resolved, however, as far

could, to check his niece's disposition to dilate upon the ugline

her intended bridegroom, although he was not a little pleased, ell as puzzled, to observe that she appeared totally exempt fro

at mysterious dread of the stranger which, he could not disguise

om himself, considerably affected him, as also his pupil Godfr

chalken.

Early on the next day there arrived, from various quarters of t

wn, rich presents of silks, velvets, jewellery, and so forth, for Rosd also a packet directed to Gerard Douw, which on being opene

as found to contain a contract of marriage, formally drawn u

tween Wilken Vanderhausen of the Boom-quay , in Rotterdam, a

ose Velderkaust of Leyden, niece to Gerard Douw, master in the

painting, also of the same city; and containing engagements on t

rt of Vanderhausen to make settlements upon his bride, far mo

lendid than he had before led her guardian to believe likely, a

hich were to be secured to her use in the most unexceptionab

anner possible—the money being placed in the hand of Gera

ouw himself.

I have no sentimental scenes to describe, no cruelty of guardian

magnanimity of wards, no agonies, or transport of lovers. T

cord I have to make is one of sordidness, levity, and heartlessnesless than a week after the first interview which we have ju



scribed, the contract of marriage was fulfilled, and Schalken sa

e prize which he would have risked existence to secure, carried

solemn pomp by his repulsive rival. For two or three days

sented himself from the school; he then returned and worked

th less cheerfulness, with far more dogged resolution than befo

e stimulus of love had given place to that of ambition. Mont

ssed away, and, contrary to his expectation, and, indeed, to trect promise of the parties, Gerard Douw heard nothing of h

ece or her worshipful spouse. The interest of the money, which w

have been demanded in quarterly sums, lay unclaimed in h

nds.

He began to grow extremely uneasy. Minheer Vanderhausen

rection in Rotterdam he was fully possessed of; after somesolution he finally determined to journey thither—a trifli

dertaking, and easily accomplished—and thus to satisfy himself

e safety and comfort of his ward, for whom he entertained

nest and strong affection. His search was in vain, however; no o

Rotterdam had ever heard of Minheer Vanderhausen. Gera

ouw left not a house in the Boom-quay untried, but all in vain. Ne could give him any information whatever touching the object

s inquiry, and he was obliged to return to Leyden nothing wiser a

r more anxious, than when he had left it.

On his arrival he hastened to the establishment from wh

anderhausen had hired the lumbering, though, considering t

mes, most luxurious vehicle, which the bridal party had employed

nvey them to Rotterdam. From the driver of this machine

arned, that having proceeded by slow stages, they had late in t

ening approached Rotterdam; but that before they entered the ci

d while yet nearly a mile from it, a small party of men, soberly cla

d after the old fashion, with peaked beards and moustache

anding in the centre of the road, obstructed the further progress

e carriage. The driver reined in his horses, much fearing, from tscurity of the hour, and the loneliness, of the road, that som



schief was intended. His fears were, however, somewhat allay

his observing that these strange men carried a large litter, of

tique shape, and which they immediately set down upon t

vement, whereupon the bridegroom, having opened the coac

or from within, descended, and having assisted his bride to

ewise, led her, weeping bitterly, and wringing her hands, to th

er, which they both entered. It was then raised by the men wrrounded it, and speedily carried towards the city, and before it h

oceeded very far, the darkness concealed it from the view of t

utch coachman. In the inside of the vehicle he found a purse, who

ntents more than thrice paid the hire of the carriage and man. H

w and could tell nothing more of Minheer Vanderhausen and h

autiful lady.This mystery was a source of profound anxiety and even grief

erard Douw. There was evidently fraud in the dealing

anderhausen with him, though for what purpose committed he cou

t imagine. He greatly doubted how far it was possible for a m

ssessing such a countenance to be anything but a villain, a

ery day that passed without his hearing from or of his niecstead of inducing him to forget his fears, on the contrary tend

ore and more to aggravate them. The loss of her cheerful socie

nded also to depress his spirits; and in order to dispel the gloo

hich often crept upon his mind after his daily occupations were ov

was wont frequently to ask Schalken to accompany him hom

d share his otherwise solitary supper.

One evening, the painter and his pupil were sitting by the fi

ving accomplished a comfortable meal, and had yielded to t

ent and delicious melancholy of digestion, when their ruminatio

ere disturbed by a loud sound at the street door, as if occasione

some person rushing and scrambling vehemently against it.

mestic had run without delay to ascertain the cause of t

sturbance, and they heard him twice or thrice interrogate tplicant for admission, but without eliciting any other answer but



stained reiteration of the sounds. They heard him then open t

ll-door, and immediately there followed a light and rapid tread

e staircase. Schalken advanced towards the door. It opened befo

reached it, and Rose rushed into the room. She looked wild, fier

d haggard with terror and exhaustion, but her dress surprised the

much as even her unexpected appearance. It consisted of a ki

white woollen wrapper, made close about the neck, ascending to the very ground. It was much deranged and trav

iled. The poor creature had hardly entered the chamber when s

l senseless on the floor. With some difficulty they succeeded

viving her, and on recovering her senses, she instantly exclaime

a tone of terror rather than mere impatience:——

"Wine! wine! quickly, or I'm lost!"Astonished and almost scared at the strange agitation in which t

ll was made, they at once administered to her wishes, and s

ank some wine with a haste and eagerness which surprised the

he had hardly swallowed it, when she exclaimed, with the sam

gency:

"Food, for God's sake, food, at once, or I perish."A considerable fragment of a roast joint was upon the table, a

chalken immediately began to cut some, but he was anticipated,

sooner did she see it than she caught it, a more than mortal ima

famine, and with her hands, and even with her teeth, she tore

e flesh, and swallowed it. When the paroxysm of hunger had been

le appeased, she appeared on a sudden overcome with shame,

may have been that other more agitating thoughts overpower

d scared her, for she began to weep bitterly and to wring h

nds.

"Oh, send for a minister of God," said she; "I am not safe till

mes; send for him speedily."

Gerard Douw despatched a messenger instantly, and prevailed

s niece to allow him to surrender his bed chamber to her use. Hso persuaded her to retire to it at once to rest; her consent w



torted upon the condition that they would not leave her for

oment.

"Oh that the holy man were here," she said; "he can deliver me: t

ad and the living can never be one: God has forbidden it."

With these mysterious words she surrendered herself to th

idance, and they proceeded to the chamber which Gerard Dou

d assigned to her use."Do not, do not leave me for a moment," said she; "I am lost

er if you do."

Gerard Douw's chamber was approached through a spacio

artment, which they were now about to enter. He and Schalk

ch carried a candle, so that a sufficiency of light was cast upon

rrounding objects. They were now entering the large chambhich as I have said, communicated with Douw's apartment, wh

ose suddenly stopped, and, in a whisper which thrilled them bo

th horror, she said:——

"Oh, God! he is here! he is here! See, see! there he goes!"

She pointed towards the door of the inner room, and Schalk

ought he saw a shadowy and ill-defined form gliding into thartment. He drew his sword, and, raising the candle so as to thro

light with increased distinctness upon the objects in the room,

tered the chamber into which the shadow had glided. No figu

as there—nothing but the furniture which belonged to the room, a

t he could not be deceived as to the fact that something had mov

fore them into the chamber. A sickening dread came upon him

d the cold perspiration broke out in heavy drops upon h

rehead; nor was he more composed, when he heard the increas

gency and agony of entreaty, with which Rose implored them not

ave her for a moment.

"I saw him," said she; "he's here. I cannot be deceived; I know hi

's by me; he is with me; he's in the room. Then, for God's sake,

u would save me, do not stir from beside me."They at length prevailed upon her to lie down upon the bed, whe



e continued to urge them to stay by her. She frequently utter

coherent sentences, repeating, again and again, "the dead and t

ng cannot be one: God has forbidden it." And then again, "Rest

e wakeful—sleep to the sleep-walkers." These and such mysterio

d broken sentences, she continued to utter until the clergym

rived. Gerard Douw began to fear, naturally enough, that terror or

atment, had unsettled the poor girl's intellect, and he hspected, by the suddenness of her appearance, t

seasonableness of the hour, and above all, from the wildness a

rror of her manner, that she had made her escape from some pla

confinement for lunatics, and was in imminent fear of pursuit. H

solved to summon medical advice as soon as the mind of his nie

d been in some measure set at rest by the offices of the clergymhose attendance she had so earnestly desired; and until this obje

d been attained, he did not venture to put any questions to h

hich might possibly, by reviving painful or horrible recollection

crease her agitation. The clergyman soon arrived—a man

cetic countenance and venerable age—one whom Gerard Dou

spected very much, forasmuch as he was a veteran polemough one perhaps more dreaded as a combatant than beloved

Christian—of pure morality, subtle brain, and frozen heart. H

tered the chamber which communicated with that in which Ro

clined and immediately on his arrival, she requested him to pray

r, as for one who lay in the hands of Satan, and who could hope f

liverance only from heaven.

That you may distinctly understand all the circumstances of t

ent which I am going to describe, it is necessary to state t

ative position of the parties who were engaged in it. The o

ergyman and Schalken were in the anteroom of which I ha

eady spoken; Rose lay in the inner chamber, the door of which w

en; and by the side of the bed, at her urgent desire, stood h

ardian; a candle burned in the bedchamber, and three were lightethe outer apartment. The old man now cleared his voice as if abo



commence, but before he had time to begin, a sudden gust of

ew out the candle which served to illuminate the room in which t

or girl lay, and she, with hurried alarm, exclaimed:——

"Godfrey, bring in another candle; the darkness is unsafe."

Gerard Douw forgetting for the moment her repeated injunctions

e immediate impulse, stepped from the bedchamber into the oth

order to supply what she desired."Oh God! do not go, dear uncle," shrieked the unhappy girl—and

e same time she sprung from the bed, and darted after him,

der, by her grasp, to detain him. But the warning came too late, f

arcely had he passed the threshold, and hardly had his niece h

me to utter the startling exclamation, when the door which divid

e two rooms closed violently after him, as if swung by a strong blawind. Schalken and he both rushed to the door, but their united a

sperate efforts could not avail so much as to shake it. Shriek af

riek burst from the inner chamber, with all the piercing loudness

spairing terror. Schalken and Douw applied every nerve to for

en the door; but all in vain. There was no sound of struggling fro

thin, but the screams seemed to increase in loudness, and at tme time they heard the bolts of the latticed window withdrawn, a

e window itself grated upon the sill as if thrown open. One lariek, so long and piercing and agonized as to be scarcely huma

welled from the room, and suddenly there followed a death-li

ence. A light step was heard crossing the floor, as if from the be

the window; and almost at the same instant the door gave wa

d, yielding to the pressure of the external applicants, nea

ecipitated them into the room. It was empty. The window was ope

d Schalken sprung to a chair and gazed out upon the street a

nal below. He saw no form, but he saw, or thought he saw, th

aters of the broad canal beneath settling ring after ring in hea

cles, as if a moment before disturbed by the submission of som

nderous body.No trace of Rose was ever after found, nor was anything certa



male form, clothed in a kind of light robe of white, part of which w

disposed as to form a veil, and in her hand she carried a lam

he was moving rather away from him, in the direction of the flight

eps which conducted towards the vaults. Schalken felt a vag

arm at the sight of this figure and at the same time an irresistib

pulse to follow its guidance. He followed it towards the vaults, b

hen it reached the head of the stairs, he paused; the figure pausso, and, turning gently round, displayed, by the light of the lamp

rried, the face and features of his first love, Rose Velderkau

ere was nothing horrible, or even sad, in the countenance. On t

ntrary, it wore the same arch smile which used to enchant the art

ng before in his happy days. A feeling of awe and interest, to

ense to be resisted, prompted him to follow the spectre, if specwere. She descended the stairs—he followed—and turning to t

t, through a narrow passage, she led him, to his infinite surpris

o what appeared to be an old-fashioned Dutch apartment, such

e pictures of Gerard Douw have served to immortalize. Abundan

costly antique furniture was disposed about the room, and in o

rner stood a four-post bed, with heavy black cloth curtains arouthe figure frequently turned towards him with the same arch smi

d when she came to the side of the bed, she drew the curtain

d, by the light of the lamp, which she held towards its contents, s

sclosed to the horror-stricken painter, sitting bolt upright in the be

e livid and demoniac form of Vanderhausen. Schalken had hard

en him, when he fell senseless upon the floor, where he lay un

scovered, on the next morning, by persons employed in closing t

ssages into the vaults. He was lying in a cell of considerable siz

hich had not been disturbed for a long time, and he had fall

side a large coffin, which was supported upon small pillars,

curity against the attacks of vermin.

To his dying day Schalken was satisfied of the reality of the visio

hich he had witnessed, and he has left behind him a curioidence of the impression which it wrought upon his fancy, in



inting executed shortly after the event I have narrated, and which

luable as exhibiting not only the peculiarities which have ma

chalken's pictures sought after, but even more so as presenting

rtrait of his early love, Rose Velderkaust, whose mysterious fa

ust always remain matter of speculation.



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