J. S. Le Fanus Ghostly Tales, Volume 1 | Page 6

he left her, and took his way to the room in which his
pupils worked.
When the evening closed in, Gerard called Schalken, who was about to
take his departure to his own obscure and comfortless lodgings, and
asked him to come home and sup with Rose and Vanderhausen. The
invitation was, of course, accepted and Gerard Douw and his pupil soon
found themselves in the handsome and, even then, antique chamber,
which had been prepared for the reception of the stranger. A cheerful
wood fire blazed in the hearth, a little at one side of which an
old-fashioned table, which shone in the fire-light like burnished gold,
was awaiting the supper, for which preparations were going forward;
and ranged with exact regularity, stood the tall-backed chairs, whose
ungracefulness was more than compensated by their comfort. The little
party, consisting of Rose, her uncle, and the artist, awaited the arrival
of the expected visitor with considerable impatience. Nine o'clock at
length came, and with it a summons at the street door, which being
speedily answered, was followed by a slow and emphatic tread upon
the staircase; the steps moved heavily across the lobby, the door of the
room in which the party we have described were assembled slowly
opened, and there entered a figure which startled, almost appalled, the
phlegmatic Dutchmen, and nearly made Rose scream with terror. It was
the form, and arrayed in the garb of Minheer Vanderhausen; the air, the
gait, the height were the same, but the features had never been seen by
any of the party before. The stranger stopped at the door of the room,
and displayed his form and face completely. He wore a dark-coloured
cloth cloak, which was short and full, not falling quite to his knees; his
legs were cased in dark purple silk stockings, and his shoes were
adorned with roses of the same colour. The opening of the cloak in
front showed the under-suit to consist of some very dark, perhaps sable
material, and his hands were enclosed in a pair of heavy leather gloves,
which ran up considerably above the wrist, in the manner of a gauntlet.
In one hand he carried his walking-stick and his hat, which he had
removed, and the other hung heavily by his side. A quantity of grizzled
hair descended in long tresses from his head, and rested upon the plaits
of a stiff ruff, which effectually concealed his neck. So far all was well;
but the face!--all the flesh of the face was coloured with the bluish

leaden hue, which is sometimes produced by metallic medicines,
administered in excessive quantities; the eyes showed an undue
proportion of muddy white, and had a certain indefinable character of
insanity; the hue of the lips bearing the usual relation to that of the face,
was, consequently, nearly black; and the entire character of the face
was sensual, malignant, and even satanic. It was remarkable that the
worshipful stranger suffered as little as possible of his flesh to appear,
and that during his visit he did not once remove his gloves. Having
stood for some moments at the door, Gerard Douw at length found
breath and collectedness to bid him welcome, and with a mute
inclination of the head, the stranger stepped forward into the room.
There was something indescribably odd, even horrible, about all his
motions, something undefinable, that was unnatural, unhuman; it was
as if the limbs were guided and directed by a spirit unused to the
management of bodily machinery. The stranger spoke hardly at all
during his visit, which did not exceed half an hour; and the host himself
could scarcely muster courage enough to utter the few necessary
salutations and courtesies; and, indeed, such was the nervous terror
which the presence of Vanderhausen inspired, that very little would
have made all his entertainers fly in downright panic from the room.
They had not so far lost all self-possession, however, as to fail to
observe two strange peculiarities of their visitor. During his stay his
eyelids did not once close, or, indeed, move in the slightest degree; and
farther, there was a deathlike stillness in his whole person, owing to the
absence of the heaving motion of the chest, caused by the process of
respiration. These two peculiarities, though when told they may appear
trifling, produced a very striking and unpleasant effect when seen and
observed. Vanderhausen at length relieved the painter of Leyden of his
inauspicious presence; and with no trifling sense of relief the little party
heard the street door close after him.
"Dear uncle," said Rose, "what a frightful man! I would not see him
again for the wealth of the States."
"Tush, foolish girl," said Douw, whose sensations were anything but
comfortable. "A man may be as ugly as