The Poor Gentleman | Page 2

used to freshen them,
but the borrowed lustre could not hide the cracks and repairs with
which they were defaced. The door-handles and other parts of the
vehicle that were made of copper had been carefully polished, and the
vestiges of silver-plating, still visible in the creases of the ornaments,
denoted a former richness which had been almost entirely worn out by
time and use.
The _calèche_ was drawn by a stout, heavy horse, whose short and
lumbering gait intimated very clearly that he was oftener employed in
the plough and cart than in carrying his owner toward the capital.
A peasant-boy of seventeen or eighteen was perched on the driver's seat.
He was in livery; a tarnished gold band adorned his hat, and brass
buttons glistened on his coat; but the hat fell over his ears, and the coat
was so large that the driver seemed lost in it as in a bag. The garments
had been worn by many of the lackey's predecessors on the box, and, in
a long series of years, had doubtless passed from coachman to
coachman till they descended to their present possessor.
The only person in the vehicle was a man about fifty years old. He was
unquestionably the master of both servant and cabriolet, for his look
and deportment commanded respect and consideration. With head
depressed and moody air, he sat motionless and dreamy in his seat till
he heard the approach of other vehicles, when, suddenly lifting his eyes,
he would salute the strangers graciously and then instantly relapse into
his former attitude. A moment's glance at this person was sufficient to
excite an interest in him. His face, though hard and wrinkled, was so
regular and noble in its contour, his look so mild and yet so earnest and
penetrating, his broad brow so clear and lofty, that the most careless
observer could not doubt that he was endowed with the best qualities of
human nature. Besides this, there were unquestionable indications that

he had been a sufferer. If a simple glance at his features did not impress
one with a conviction of this fact, it was confirmed by the fringe of
silvery hair that straggled over his temples, and the sombre, melancholy
fire that glimmered in his eyes like the last rays of expiring hope.
His dress was in perfect keeping with his physiognomy. It was of that
neat and simple style which always characterizes a man of the world
who is governed by refined and elegant tastes. His linen was spotlessly
white, his cloth extremely fine, and his well-brushed hat shone smartly
in the sunshine. Occasionally, as some one passed on the road, he
might be seen to draw forth a handsome gold snuff-box and inhale a
pinch with so graceful an air that an observer would be convinced he
belonged to the highest classes of society. A malicious eye, it is true,
might have discovered by close inspection that the brush had been too
familiar with his coat and worn it threadbare, that his silk hat had been
doctored to preserve its lustre and smoothness, and that his gloves were
elaborately darned. If an inquisitive critic could have pried into the
bottom of the vehicle, he would have detected a large crack in the side
of the left boot, beneath which a gray stocking had been carefully
masked with ink. Still, all these signs of poverty were so artfully
concealed, and his dress worn with so careless an air of opulence and
ease, that every body might have supposed the traveller did not put on
better clothes only because he had a whim for bad ones.
The _calèche_ had rolled along rapidly for about two hours, when the
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