"Said you not, Godfrey," exclaimed Douw, after a long and fruitful gaze
from his post of observation, and turning to Schalken, "that the hour he
appointed was about seven by the clock of the Stadhouse?"

"It had just told seven when I first saw him, sir," answered the
student.

"The hour is close at hand, then," said the master, consulting a
horologe as large and as round as an orange. "Minheer Vanderhausen 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 young, nor
yet very old, neither; and his dress was rich and grave, as might become
a citizen of wealth and consideration."

At this moment the sonorous boom of the Stadhouse clock told, stroke
after stroke, the hour of seven; the eyes of both master and student
were directed to the door; and it was not until the last peal of the
bell had ceased to vibrate, that Douw exclaimed----

"So, so; we shall have his worship presently, that is, if he means to
keep his hour; if not, you may wait for him, Godfrey, if you court his
acquaintance. But what, after all, if it should prove but a mummery got
up by Vankarp, or some such wag? I wish you had run all risks, and
cudgelled the old burgomaster soundly. I'd wager a dozen of Rhenish, his