The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1888-06-23 00:00:00

A CLUE TO CHARACTER.

A BLAZING August afternoon. The sun beat fiercely
down upon the pavement of such London Courts ae
gave it access, was caught up and reflected by thE
hot brick walls on either side, and vanished in a
misty haze of dancing motes and beams.
The heat was so intense, that three clerks, seated
at the sloping desk which occupied the centre of a
certain City counting-house, with one accord laid
down their pens, wiped thcir reeking faces, and gasped
for breath.

And well they m'ght ; for Augustine Close, albeit it
has its trees and garden views from some of the
upper office windows, is sinuous, contracted, and
shut in by gates—silent and breathless, even in the
nooks where the fiercest winds which descend so low
expend their power in whirling round a few dry
leaves, odd paper scraps, and vagrant straws; em-
blems of its old life these, when many a seared and
withered soul from the outer world sought refuge
here, and spent its remnant of existence in a daily
round of monotonous duties.

For a Priory of Augustine friars once occupied the
Close, founded in the year that the great Khan was
said to have been converted, that the Alhambra was
commenced, that Sicily was offered to Richard of
Cornwall, and that Henry 111. intrigued for it for
his son Edmund, after allowing Grosteste and the
Parliament to snub the Pope.
Three hundred years afterwards the church resounds
with Dutch and Walloon voices, and is called the
temple of the Lord Jesus, while the friars' garden
belongs to the Company of Drapers.
Turn the kaleidoscope of time another three
hundred years. The glass house of the Venetians has
gone, where James Howel says he melted away under
their fierce fires. The house of the Spanish Ambassador,
who praised the City gormandiser, but told his master
English houses were but sticks and dirt, is razed.
The clish-clash of the tanners, who gazed out on the
London Wall, and felt convinced there was "nothing
like leather," is silent.

Augustine Close is still a hot place, and a quiet,
even although a miniature Babel of merchants of all
nations swarms under its archways daily as the clock
strikes ten. It is especially quiet on Sundays, when
you might think it a nook of some city of the dead,
for few come to hear the Dutch doctor preach, and
none but housekeepers dream of dwelling there.
The firm of Fabian van Flewker and Company,
General Merchants, Commission Agents, and Foreign
Bankers, occupied the three rooms forming the
ground floor of No. 99, in the Close. The back of the
house looked into the Draper's garden, aforetime my
Lord Cromwell's. The office proper consisted of two
only of these apartments, the third hind-most chamber
being the principal's private room. This sanctum was
entered by a rather long, dark, winding passage, out
of which opened the safe-room, a dungeon with an
Iron door—believed to be the repository of fabulous
wealth. Although the legend upon the door-post at
the entrance gave the name of "Fabian van Flewrer
and Company" as constituting the firm, it is only
candid to admit that the "Company" was a fashion-
able fiction, and the business owned by Mynheer van
Flewker alone.

Upon this particular sultry August afternoon, the
counting-house was occupied by three clerks—Whiffles,
book-keeper and cashier; Kleckser, foreign corres-
pondent; and Gwillim, clerk for general utility. Two
of the number being Britons, the conversation naturally
turned upon the weather.
The discourse was commenced by Gwillim. This
young man stammered somewhat. Being Welsh, and
of an exitable temperament, the impediment in his
speech was rather increased than lessened by his
eagerness to overcome it.
Now you may have every possible sympathy with
a man who stutters, but it is not easy always to be
grave when he speaks. Gwillim strained occasionally
at a syllable for full a minute; and, with singular ill-
fortune, this usually happened when most inopportune.
Now and then, though rarely, a Cambrian accent was
perceptible in his talk.
"Did you ever hear of the Bub-Bub-Bubbl-Black
Hole at Ca-Ca-Calcutta, Mr. Whiffles ?"he asked, with
a longing glance at an empty water-bottle that stood
upon the desk.
"I have, Mr. Gwillim," returned
_Whiffles.
_

It was noticeable that Gwillim and Whiffles,
altlnugh daily companions, and upon the bestpossible
terms were studiously particular to give each other his
full title upon every occasion. Likewise, that, though
each was gasping with thirst, he would not, upon any'
account, have compromised his dignity by filling the
water-bottle from the pump in the cellar. From this
menial office, each preferred awaiting the return of the
errand-boy, who had gone to Wapping, and would not
be back for a couple of hours, at least.
"Well, Mr. 'Whiffles," continued Gwillim, "it's
my o-p-p-pinion that the P-P-Plack Hole at Ca-Ca-
Calcutta was an ice-house to Au-gu-gu-guggl-gustine
Clem"

"1 don't know about that, Mr. Gwillim," answered
Whiffles, a hard-headed practical young fellow, never
Indulging in simile or overstrained comparison. "if you
read the published accounts, you'll find that, of 146
prisoners, 123 were suffocated in a single night; now,
I don't quite think that could have happened in an
ice-house." - -

" W-w-well, of c-c-eourse not, if you st-st-stick to
the strict le-le-let-letter of the thing,"returned Gwillim,
pettishly. "But you know what I m-m-mean, Mr.
Whiffles; I mean that the heat is int-t-tolerablc, over-
powering, kick-kick-kick-killing."
"Yet we live on," suggested Whiffles.
" Yes ; but how? In a T-T-Tit-Turkish bath. I
declare, it can't be w-w-worse in India than here.
T-t-talk of t-t-tropical countries! If a man lives in
the tropics, he gets ac-kick-climatised, and don't
mind heat; besides, he has p-p-pun-punkahs, and
ther-ther-thermantidotes, and all that sort of thing.
But our c-c-climate is about the most variable under
the sun—or under the cu-cu-clouds, to speak
correctly. Three m-m-months of the year we're
roasted, t-t-two frozen, and the other seven
d-d-drowned. Heigho When will that young
sc-sc-sc-scamp come in?"
The scamp, Bill Pordy, the errand-boy, was at
that precise moment luxuriating under a pump at
Mile End. Had Gwillim known it, there would have
been wailing on Pordy's return. Well, ignorance is
often bliss.

" Was ise des Deutseltes Vaterland I" ("What
is the German's Fatherland ?") at this moment
struck in Kleckser, a round-faced, chubby
young German, with a straw-coloured moustache,
spectacles, and no whiskers. Gvillim, my poy,
ton't pe unhabby. Tink of the ship's carbenter,
who says everyting viii be all de same 19,761 years
hence."

"Hang the kick-kick-carpenter, Mr. Kleckser !"
exclaimed the irritated Gwillim. "That's st-st-stu-
upid theory's no comfort to me. There's that Pordy,
too, been gone more than an hour, and it's quite
t-t-time he was back again to get sonic water."
Pordv has been away just twenty minutes, Mr.
Gwillim," stated precise Whiffles.
. _

"Boor Gwillhia ! He shall tie of his dirst !"
laughed Kleckser. "Give me de pottle, my poy,
and I'll fetch de vater. Ito pelieve you chaps you'd
sooner pe roasted to teath, like dat King of Spain
vhat tumpled into de fire and might'nt pe bulled out
py his grantees, sooner dan lose an inch of your
pleased tignity.• Give me de pottle."
Gwillim remonstrated faintly, for the prospect of
water was too grateful to be rejected. Eleckser
seized the bottle, and swinging himself from his stool,
was dancing out of the door singing, 7hen he came
full butt in the entrance against a gentleman of so
much importance in my story, that he deserves a fresh
paragraph.
Enter M. Napoleon-Victoire Parlandet, whom,
though introduction has gone out of fashion, I yet
take leave to present with some formality. A portly
personage, above the middle height, with dark eyes,
flattisk, common-place features, and a magnificent
coal-black, spade beard. Altogether, an imposing-
looking gentleman, with a thick watch-guard
meandering over his waistcoat, and many shining rings
upon his fleshy fingers. His position in the house
of Fabian dan Flewker and Company will develop
itself as we proceed.
"Good morning, my children," exclaimed M
Parlandet, with one arm in air, and the other clasp-
ing the astonished Kleckser to his manly breast.
"Signor Kleckser, do not knock me down with your
formidable bottle, and tr-rrrr-rample upon my life-
less corpse. Aha I"
It was a peculiarity of M. Parlandet to terminate
his little speeches with this interjection, when he
thought he had said anything witty or telling. At
these times his false white teeth would glisten out of
his black beard in a manner he considered peculiarly
fascinating: others might, perhaps, have thought so,
too. There is no accounting for tastes, either good
or bad. _ _

"Pardon, M. Parlandet," said, Bleckser, emerging,
bottle in hand, from the voluminous folds of the
new-corner's waistcoat. "I tit not see you vere
coming."
" My son, your excuses are accepted," returned
M. Parlandet, with a gracious wave of the hand.
"M. van Flewker, then, is not yet upon his return,
eh P"
" Not yet, M. Parlandet," returned Whiffles. "Do
you know when he is expected ?"
"I did receive of his news this morning, my dear
Mr. Chancellor," said M. Parlandet, "and did think to
encounter him already here. No matter! He shall
speedily, without doubt, make his apparation. But
what is of the most interesting to me, I would ask if
you could oblige with some leetle of the needful on
account."
"Certainly, M. Parlandet," said the cashier. "How
much do you require ?''
M. Parlandet named the amount of his pecuniary
desires, and, after a small passage of arms about the
state of his account with "cc cher ohancelicr," as
he styled Whiffles, gracefully withdrew.
"There he goes again," said Whiffles. "Money—
money—money ! is always his cry. I do believe he
fancies Mr. van Flewker only keeps up the business to
find him in cash."
"He does get through his sa-sa-sal-salary amaz-
ingly fast," observed Gwillim. "And though it may
seam wrik-c4l.4.cktaritable tosay so, Pal Teally ap.

pears to me more ornamental thin useful. There he
is all d-d-day at the West End office, a place fit for a
p-p-pup-prince, and the quantity of b-b-business he
brings in a year you might put upon a page of note-
paper. When he does introduce a c-c-cus-customer,
there's generally something wrong about him. D-d-do
you really think, Mr. Whiffles, he's worth what the
g-g-gov-governor gives him?"
"Worth it!" ejaculated Whiffles, with intense scorn.
"He's not worth "

"A glass of vater on a hot tay, my poy," interrupted
Meckser, presenting that refreshment to Gwillim, who
seized it eagerly. "is vort all de Parlandets dat ever
came from France."

"so it is, Mr. Kleckser," said Whiffles. " But whatle.
to be done? Mr. van Flewker has confidence in Pan,
and will continue to a've it, I s'pose, till the end o' the
chapter."
""s is noch nicht alto- Tage abend,' my poy-," re-
turned Kleckser, significantly. " Vhich, peing inter-
preted for penighted intivituals like you, vhat ton't
unterstand de peauties of de German language, means,
De tay isn't at an end until de evening.' It's my
obinion, my tear Vhiffles, Pan l hasn't quite got to de
ent of his tether mit de governor yet. Vhen he toes,
dere'll pe vhat's bobularly called a rumbus."
" Well, I can't make it out," said Gwillim. "Mr
van F-F-Flewker ought to know P-P-Parl pretty wel
by this time. Over and over again he's led the governoi
into b-b-blunders and loss, of which I wonder he hasn'
grown tired.
"Listen, my poy," said Kleckser, "and I'll tell you
just how de governor and Pan l seem to me to live
No, toubt, in your exberience of life, you've seen at
old married bair, who've lived in de plessed madri
monial state a goot numper of years. Dey tont can
apout each oder much, and vatever love done might
have peen at first has gone to de togs; dey're alvays
quarrelling, and alvays making it up. Hapit keeps 'em
togedder. Dat's just how it is mit M. van Flewker and
Pan."

"Very true, Mr. Kleckser," observed Whiffles, " biti
still, that's no explanation 'ow Parl gets rid of hit
money."
"I shall tell you dat, too, mine friend," replied tht
German, "dough I don't know noting of his hapits
I judge by vhat you English call analysis."
"You mean analogy, I suppose, Mr. K-K-K-Klock
ser," interrupted Gwillim.
"To pe sure," returned the correspondent. aI have
alvays found dat vhat a man like Parl is in leetel
tings, so viii he pe in great vons. Tit you ever know
him to give anyting avay ?—a cigar to you or to me,
a benny to a boor, shoeless tevil shivering in de snow ?
Not a pit. Veil, den, ye have von end of de clue to
Pan's character. He is not generous. Next, tit you
ever know him grudge himself von single ting to
vhich he took a fancy? No matter de cost—no matter
its utility. It is enough dat it bleases him for dat he
shall try to get it. Dat is anoder link of de clue. Parl
is greedy and brodigal."
"Upon my word, Mr. Kleckser," said Whiffles,
"you're quite a a philosoper. I 'ope you don't quietly
analyse our characters as you're reckoning up Pan's.
He's bad enough, I believe, but surely not so black as
you're painting him."
"Stop a minute." said Kleckser, "I haven't tone
vid Parl yet. Ye find him ungenerous, greedy, and
brodigal. You have blayed chess mit him him of even-
ings, Gvillim. So have I. He blays veil, put is care-
less, ton't pay addention, and often commits a fault.
Tit you ever know him tecline to take pack a piece
vhen his mistake was bointed out ? Toes he ever allow
you to retrieve your oversight? Not a pit. He takes
all he can get, and never gives noting pack to his
obbonent. Ye are getting on a little harder mit de clue.
Parl is mean and illiberal."

" Mr. Kleckser's right," interrupted Gwillim. "I've
n-n-noticed that feature in P-P-Pup-Pan's character
myself."
" Goot," said Kleckser, dat's vat counsel call con-
roporative evidence, I pelieve. Into Parrs religious
obinions, or rader irreligious obinions, I shan't enter.
Ve've often peen disgusted py his prutal ateism. I
only mention dem now to show dat as Parl ton't
pelieve in a future state his bumps of conscientious-
ness and vederation must pe very small. But dere's
anoder organ dat he possest in deir place, vhich I
should tink must extend all over his skull, and dat is
de organ of self-esteem. Even Parrs pest friend, who
is M. van Flewker, vould atmit his having dis faculty
most largely developed. And I ton't exbect eider of
you viii teny it—eh?"
"Certainly not," said Whiffles. "A more important
person in his own eyes than M. Parlandet I don't
believe can possibly exist. Still, you know, Mr.
Kleckser, a man may be all that you have stated in
his private character, and yet, in a business point of
view, fairly to be depended upon."
"My poy," returned the German, sententiously,
" dere's an immoral consistency as veil as a moral
consistency. If you find a man ungenerous, selfish, im-
provident, mean, greedy of advantage, and conceited,
pe sure it's noting put fear of consequences vhat keeps
him from going very wrong inteet. I say noting more
dan that I ton't pelieve in Parl, and I hope M. van
Flewker may riot pe opliged to come to de same col-
elusion. Now, my poy, give me some vater, for talk-
ing philosophy always makes me try."
"People do call it a dry subject, you know, Mr.
Kleckser," retorted Whiffles, with a quiet grin.
"Dose vhat says so ton't know not noting apout
it," sputtered Kleckser, half choking himself, as some
water went the wrong way, in his eagerness to refute
the heresy.
Gwillim and Whiffles burst intoa shout of laughter,
as much at the philosopher's vehemence as at his
mishap, and Kleckser, after a moment's pause, chimed
in with his companions.
While these young fellows are laughing, I may
perhaps take the opportunity of bringing you ac-
quainted with mysterious Mynheer Fabian van
Flewker—the shadowy personage of whom you have
heard a little, but as yet have not seen.

CHAPETR 11.
FROM DRAMA TO TRAGEDY.

RATTIER more than forty years ago, Fabian van
Flewker was a small, many-breeched Dutch boy, who
lived in a certain city in Holland called Rotterdam.
The fact of his existence was in itself peculiar—
indeed, according to the traditions of the Van Fkiwker
family, he had no right to have come into the world
at all; for it must be stated that the males of the
house of Van Flewker for many generations past had
invariably intermarried with one of three families,
the Van Brouns, the Van Jonahs, or Van Robinsonks.
The relation of these Dutch families to three oth,lrs,
nearly as eminent in the British middle-class hier-
archy, win be evident at a glance.
When, therefore, Hendrijk van Flewker, the great
shipowner and Batavian trader, found that his end
was near at hand, he called to his bedside his son
Jobst, a wild, harum-scarum youth, about five-and-
twenty, and addressed him in the following terms :
Son Jobst, I am about to place a grave trust in
thy hands. Those signs snd tokens wisely given
unto man, in warning that the hour of his dissolution
draweth nigh, tell me only too plainly that I am not
long for this world; and I am anxious, before I die,
to insure thy future welfare. Thou art very young
to be intrusted with the responsibility of a great
business; the happiness of many is committed to thy
charge. I fear thou art too much given up to worldly
vanities to make a prudent use of the riches I shall
Leave behind.

"Still, young as thou art, it is not well for matt
to be alone, and my last counsel to thee is to look
around for a prudent and thrifty helpmate. Thy
choice will naturally be limited to the three families
into which our home has always married, and by rare
good fortune, there is a marriageable daughter at
this moment in each of the families of Van Broun
Van Jonah, and Van Robinsonk.

"If thou wilt be guided by my wishes thou wilt
select as thy bride Katrina van Robinsonk. Though
not comely, she will make thee an excellent and saving
helpmate; and further, her dowry will be larger than
those of Hedwig van Jonah or Margret van Broun.
Besides, the affairs of the Van Brouns are not in good
order; at least, one, if not more, of their bills was pro-
tested last week; and Gylls van Jonah was elected to
tho Senate in my stand, five-and-twenty years ago -
a wrong I have never forgotten.
"Of one thing only I must warn thee. Beware of
marrying any but one of these three damsels, for, if
thou dost, a heavy punishment awaits thee.
"Confide in all things in my book-keeper, Pieter
Maritzburg, who is thoroughly trustworthy, and
entirely devoted to the interests of our house. And
now, my son, embrace me, and farewell 1"
Whereupon Hendrijk van Flewker turned his face
to the wall, and, with a heavy sigh, yielded up the
ghost.
Jobst van Flewker turned a deaf ear to all the
ugly stories told in Rotterdam of the way in which
his father had amassed his wealth; enough for him
that it was gained, and was now his own. He held
several conferences with the grey old book-keepez,
Pieter Maritzburg, in the dingy little counting-house
where generation after generation the Van
Flewkers had sat day by day, and often late into the
night, adding up column upon column of fine, fat,
profitable figures, and placing the total at the foot of
each with a sigh of opulent delight. Together the
two went out over the catalogue of Hendrijk van
Flewker's property; the sh ps in dock and afloat, the
actual cash in hand, the shares in banks, canals, and
in a new fangled method of conveyance called rail-
roads, then just beginning to be heard of,
at which worthy Pieter Maritzburg gravely shook
his experienced head, opining the scheme would
never_ pay. •

"Would you believe it, mynheer ?" said horrified
Pieter to his young master, "the projectors talk of
carrying not only goods, but passengers, at a speed
of twelve miles in the hour; some even go so far as
to say fifteen. We should do well to sell those
shares as soon as possible, mynheer."
It is astonishing how soon a man grows accustomed
to good fortune. Three months after the decease of
Hendrijk van Flewker, Jobst had grown quite familiar
with his position as a man of great respectability
and standing in the town. But that to which he could
not by any means reconcile himself was the notion of
wedding Katrina van Robinsonk. He had visited at
the house of her father upon several occasions, with
the intention of sedately courting the lady's affections.
He had always been most warmly received by the
parents, but had been so little encouraged to pursue
his suit with the fair Katrina, that he cast aside all
thought of larger dowry this damsel would re-
ceive, and set out to inspectthe perfections of Marglet
van Broun and Hedwig van Jonah.
Still, though received by the parents of these
maidens .ivith c.,1.1 possible politeness, accardina to

Dutch notions of the commOdity some forty Years
ago, Jobst van Flewker left their mansions as heart-
whole as he entered them.

Now it was his misfortune, as it has been the fate
of many another great man, to be in advance of his
age. He had done all in his power to comply with
his father's wish; had inspected the three damsels
from which he was permitted to select a wife; and
had come to the conclusion he could marry none of
them. He was sufficiently original to imagine that
in a wife a man has need of a companion. But
this was not a popular notion in Holland then.
A wife in that day was regarded as a re-
spectable kind of upper servant, a housekeeper,
who looked after domestic affairs, and kept things
together.
"But," reasoned Jobst, "a housekeeper is one
thing and a wife is another. If a servant does not
suit me, I can discharge her, and hire one that does.
If I marry a wife I wed her for life, and cannot get
rid of her if I find we do not agree. Again, it is
probable that we should have children. I should not
like my children to have an ignorant, uneducated
mother."

You will see into what terribly dangerous hands
the merchant's property had fallen. Why, a man
like this was positively capable of devoting it to
philanthropic purposes—of founding schools, or
colleges, or almshouses; or establishing libraries or
musezans—tasks which, it is well known, are the
exclusive employment of eccentric and wealthy dolts,
ignorant of the value of money!
The result of Jobst's wooing, therefore, just
amounted to this: being resolved not to espouse
either of the three damsels from which he might
have made a selection, he determined for the present
not to marry at all.
But, alas! for the instability of human resolutions.
Little more than a year had passed since Jobst's
accession to the paternal wealth and dignities, when
several additions were made to the players at the
theatre in Rotterdam. Amongst the new-comers was
a certain Juffrouw Rosalba van Levissen, stated upon
the bills to have been engaged, regardless of expense,
direct from Paris, having previously played with un-
limited applause before every crowned and annointed
head in the Old World and the New.

Dark as the wolf's throat, or a winter's night, were
the eyes of the lovely Rosalba; black and glossy as
the sheen upon the raven's wing her jetty brows and
hair; glistening and white as snow her pearly teeth;
delicately tinted and fair the bloom upon her rounded
cheek as the blush upon the rosebud newly touched
with dew--which, I am told, are the stock corn.
parisons always required to describe with adequate
fervour a heroine's charms. For how many of these
perfections Rosalba van Levissen was indebted to the
hare's foot and the theatrical enameller's skill, we had
better not inquire. Of what avail is Art but as the
skilful counterfeit of Nature? Upon the stage Rosalba
was sufficiently attractive to call forth a new sensa-
tion in that region of the theatre-going Rotterdam
burghers' bodies where the heart, anatomically speak-
ing, is usually supposed to dwell. You may judge of
its influence when I state that it actually drew
numbers of the citizens to the theatre in place of the
beerhouse for upwards of a week.
Tragedy, comedy, drama or pantomime—dancing,
singing, and the use of the foils—all came alike to
Rosalba. In all she equally shone. Grave and sedate
old citizens, whose serious wrinkled faces you would
imagine no earthly power could relax into a jolly
laugh, roared at the ponderous witticisms of the
national drama, to which Rosalba imparted a spright-
liness it had never yet worn, until their well-clothed
sides shook again, and the benches creaked beneath
the unaccustomed load. Then the scene changed.
Rosalba was the persecuted heroine, undergoing suffer-
ings and misfortunes terrible and dire. Heavy tears
gathered in the eyes of the whilome jolly faces of the
audience; choking sensations rose every moment
higher and higher in their throats, until the pathos of
the actress swelled the tide to bursting ; great drops
rained down the fleshy pending cheeks of well-fed
human beings, who would have denied a stiver to a
beggar, but whose hearts were reached by the mimic
sorrows of Rosalba's skill.

One of the most fervent admirers of the fascinating
actress was Mynheer Jobst van Flewker. The
merchant fell a victim at once, without a struggle.
Here was the charming creature of whom he had so
long sighed ; here were the delight, the happiness, the
ever-varying entertainment, the bliss he had so vainly
sought in the commonplace daughters of Van Broun,
Van Jonah, and Van Robinsonk. Could he transplant
this goddess to his fireside, make her the companion
of his future life, how blest would be his lot! What
a mother must a creature so gifted make to his
children? Jobst turned the matter over in his mind
for a week, then sought an interview with Rosalba
van Levissen ; told his name, his standing, his position;
explained to her the amount of his riches, and asked
her point blank to become his wife. The lady
requested a couple of days for deliberation, which
Van Flewher immediately conceded, and took his
leave

Upon the appointed day the merchant hastened to
MI charmer's house, and was transported with the
reply which issued from beneath the folds of Rosalba's
handkerchief, modestly hiding a face which did not
blush.

The ardent lover made eager preparations for the
wedding, the approach of which he communicated to
Pieter Maritzburg. The old man's face assumed a
grave and earnest look when he heard the news.
" Mynlieer," said the trusty Pieter, "I hope that
what you tell me is not true. You are aware that
your honoured house has always intermarried with
the Van Brouns, the Van Jonahs, or the Van Robin-
souks. You know, too, it was the desire of my late
worthy master—heaven rest his soul !—that you should
select a wife from one of these three families. I hope,
mynheer, you will not act contrary to your honoured
father's wish."

_
"My worthy Pieter," replied Jobst, "it is quite
impossible my father's wishes in this respect can be
obeyed. In choosing a wife, a man must please him-
self. He has to live with her, not with his defunct
ancestors, like the old Egyptians, and he must use his
judgment."
"But, mynheer, there is anothercircumstance which
renders this choice particularly repugnank--" com-
menced Pieter.

"Mind whatyou say, Master Pieter !" shouted Jobst.
"My future wife is not to be spoken of with dis-
respect."
'Pear, dear!" groaned luckless Pieter. "These
headstrong young men! But do you know, mynheer,
that this worn—this lady, I mean—is positively not
even a Christian. She is a pagan, a heretic, or
worse, a Jewess. It is impossible, unheard of,
sacrilegious almost, that a Van Flewker should wed a
Jewess !"

_
" Is she ?" said Jobst, indifferently. "Really I didn't
know it—nor, worthy Pieter, will that in any way
alter my resolution. Juffrow Rosalba will be your
master's wife within a month."

" Mynheer ! mynheer !" ejaculated Pieter, in great
distress. "It cannot be. It must not be. The
greatest misfortunes will happen if this match takes
Place." And the old man wrung his hands. -
• His pertinacity aroused Jobst's attention. "What
mean you, Pieter ?" he inquired. "What misfortune
can happen if I marry one I love ?"

"I dare not say more, master, but be warne I in
time. I repeat most solemnly, the greatest ill
wil
happen to you if you make this match."
The wedding-day arrived. Jobst and the lovely
Rosalba were married according to both Protestant
and Jewish rites; the latter at the lady's especial
desire, who felt naturally anxious there should be no
mistake about the validity of the ceremony. To
Jobst's extreme surprise, the entire families of the
three rejected damsels attended at church, and
witnessed the proceedings with perfect composure.
Although the bridegroom thought this proceeeding in
bad taste, he was glad to perceive they were so far
reconciled to their disappointment; but was again
puzzled to perceive a significant grin distend the
features of each broad countenance as he led his bride
down the aisle. In an adjacent pew Jobst noticed the
woe-begone face of Pieter Maritzburg, whose withered
cheeks were stained with tears.
When the honeymoon had come to an end, Jobst
van Flewker and his wife returned to Rotterdam.
They found a crowd upon the quay when they left the
steamer to seek the merchant's carriage, which by
some oversight was not in waiting. The townspeople
ranged themselves in two lines, as if at a strange
sight, Jobst and his wife passing up the middle to the
hired vehicle that had been obtained. The driver was
ordered to take them to Van Flewker's house.
"Very careless of Pieter not to have sent the
carriage," said Jobst. "I wrote to tell him when we
should arrive."
The droschky drew up at Jobst van Flewker's
mansion. Open flew the door as the vehicle stopped,
and out stepped the respectable citizens Van Broun,
Van Jonah, and Van Robinsonk, Pieter Maritzburg,
hovering dismally in the background.
"Welcome home, Mynheer Jobst van Flewker !"
exclaimed the three men, bowing and smiling, with a
particular emphasis on the word "home."
"You are very good gentlemen," said Jobst,
alighting, and assisting his wife from the vehicle.
"But as this happens to be my house, perhaps it
would be better if the welcome came from me."
The three men laughed—a hard, unpleasant laugh;
the laugh of men who gloat upon another's woe.
"Walk in, mynheer," said Van Broun. "We have
a communication to make to you."
Van Flewker looked at his wife, who was clinging
to his arm. A horrid suspicion for an instant smote
his soul but he drove it away manfully, and walked
into the house, Pieter Maritzburg leading the way,
and the three citizens following.
When they entered the large dining saloon, Jobst
was astonished to find it filled with the relatives and
acquaintances of the men who had met him at the
door. He turner upon Pieter savagely.
"Tell me this instant, old man," he exclaimed,
"the meaning of this assembly! Why do I find mine
enemies in mine house."
Pieter turned to the burghers, mutely.
"Tell him, Pieter Maritzburg," was the reply.
" Mynheer Jobst van Flewker," said Pieter,
solemnly, " son of my late honoured master, and
descendant of the house my fathers and I have served
from our youth up, listen to Lae."
He drew a paper from his breast and con-
tinued—
" This document is the last will and testament of
your' honoured father, drawn up and executed by
him, in the presence of a notary of this town, as by
law ordained and appointed, shortly before his death.
Shall I read the will ?"

"It is false," cried Jobst, fiercely ; "my father never
made a will! Show it to me, I say 1"
He started forward, tore the document from Pieter's
hands, dashed over the leaves, and recognised his
father's well-known signature at the conclusion. His
face grew white and rigid.
"It is a forgery !" he cried, wrenching at the
parchment, in the vain attempt to tear the leaves
asunder. _ _ .

They held his hands, took the will from his despe-
rate clutch, and gave it back to Pieter.
"Tell him what the will says," exclaimed a com-
passionate bystander.
"The purport of the testament is this," continued
Pieter. " Mynheer Hendrijk van Flewker desires
that his son. Mynheer Jobst, shall enter into the
bonds of wedlock with Juffrouw Hedwig van Broun,
Juffrouw Margret van Jonah, or 3uffrouw Katrina
van Robinsonk, in which case the entire property of
Mynheer Hendrijk comes into the possession of his
son, the said Mynheer Jobst.
" But upon this condition alone can the young
man inherit. If he abstain from marriage for five
years after the decease of Mynheer Hendrijk; 01
marrying, wed any other person than one of the
damsels above-named, then, and in that case, from
the expiration of one month after the said term of
five yeare, or from the date of such his marriage
Mynheer Jobst shall forfeit all right to the property
of Mynheer Hendrijk whatsoever. The said property
shall be then divided into two parts: one moiety
being equally apportioned as dowry to each of the
three damsels aforesaid; the other moiety being
devoted to the endowment of a refuge for the
widows and orphans of distressed and castaway
mariners.

Mynheer Hendrijk van Flewker makes this
disposition of his property to test the filial obediencE
of his son, Mynheer Jobst. Upon which account
Pieter Maritzburg, who is entrusted with the execu-
tion of this testament, is solemnly and strictly
charged, as he values his soul's salvation, to keep
the said testament secret from the said Jobst until.
by the conditions of the will, the ultimate disposi-
tion of the said property may have been deter-
mined.' "

The old man's voice, which had faltered per-
ceptibly as he read the concluding paragraph, broke
down completely as he approached its close, and the
final words could only be heard by those at his
side. _ _

Low as they were spoken, however, they were
loud enough for the wretched Jobst. The blast of a
thousand trumpets could not have sounded more
terrific in his startled ears. He turned a despairing
eye upon his wife, clasped his hands together above
his head, and ejaculating, .6 Lost ! lost! beggared!
oh, RIV Rosalba 1" fell heavily, with a wailing cry,
upon the noon
Pieter and Rosalba rushed to his assistance. Ser-
vants were called, who carried Jobst to a bedroom,
whilst others were sent to summon a physician. Van
Broun, Van Jonah, Van Robinsonk, and their ad-
herents, who had surveyed the scene with phlegmatic
calm, regarding it rather as a pleasant spectacle for
which there was nothing to pay, waited for a time,
upon the chance of anything more occurring for their
delectation, then stolidly went their way, discussing
the chances of Jobst's life or reason survivinp the
overthrow of his fortunes.
_ _ _ _

Meanwhile, in the room above, Jobst had recovered
consciousness, only to pass from prostration to raving
despair. In vain Pieter the tears rolling down his
aged cheeks, implored his master to be calm; in vain
Rosalba, her native goodness of heart shining through
the terrible shock of the discovery, besought him not
to grieve over the fortune he had lost, and assured
him she eared nothing for riches so that he remained
to her. Jobst was not to be pacified. He railed at
Pieter's reticence, cursed his father's refined and
horrible cruelty in the dispositions of the testament,
and swore, if there was law or justice left in Holland,
to overturn the will. But Nature would not be denied.
Late in the night he sank into a troubled slumber,
over which the watchers, Age and Affection, kept
anxious ward.

When Jobst awoke next day his malady had
assumed a different phase. Sullen and gloomy de-
spondency replaced the violent passion of the previous
night. Not a word would he utter' not a sign would
he give. No refreshment could be forced upon him.
Dark, deep, and brooding melancholy settled down
upon his features like a mask. Thus four days
passed.
Early in the fifth day, as the grey tints of dawn
were stealing into the sky, and birds were twittering
merrily among the trees in the garden, this was the
sight that might have been seen in Jobst van Flewker's
sick chamber.
A figure lying on a bed, on one side of which sits
an old man, upon the other a young woman, haggard
and worn for w-a,nt of rest. By degrees the eyes of
both the watchers close, their heads nod gradually
forward, then settle upon their breasts. They sleep.
Silence reigns in the sick-room.
Presently the recumbent figure in the bed uncloses
his eyes. With quick and vivid gaze his glance darts
from one guard to the other. Still they sleep. At
Last, then, the long-watched opportunity has come!
Very slowly, very cautiously, the figure slides one leg
from beneath the bedding; the other limb follows.
Slowly, still slowly—hush !—he glides, as the snake
glides over brushwood, noiselessly, stealthily, for-
wards, till he stands erect upon the floor. Ht.l4'
still the watchers sleep.
Gently, gently, as the footfall of the moccaa&td
Indian following up the trail, unheard, almost
invisibly, the maniac steps on tiptoe to his dressing-
table, opens a case, draws rapidly forth a glittering
blade, passes his fingers cautiously along its edge. It
is sharp, it is true ! a vacant smile lights up his
features. Wagging his head to and fro, he mops and
mows at his image in the glass.
At this moment the female watcher wakens with a
start. Is it a dream has warned her, or the faithful
instinct of a loving heart? Her first glance is to the
bed. Empty! She springs to her feet with a shriek,
sees the gibbering form at the table, and rushes
towards it.
Too late! Too late!

A roar, as of a wild beast bounding upon its booty,
fills the air. A flash, a sweep of the shining blade,
and the lunatic suicide falls prostrate at appalled
Rosalba's feet.

The old man, roused from the heavy sleep of wearied
sge by the clamour, sees two bodies, male and female,
Lying across each other in a dreadful reeking pod.
His poor dazed eyes at first can hardly realise the
xwful truth. But when it breaks upon him in all its
aaked hideousness, a passionate lament bursts from
ais overburdened breast, almost in the words of tb.:s
Warrior King of old
My master! oh, my master! Would that I had
given mine aged life for thine !"
The small, many-breeched Dutch boy of whom I
spoke as living some forty years ago in Rotterdam,
.5 the only fruit of that ill-starred union, and you will
make his acquaintance presently under the name of
Fabian van Flewker. •

(lb be continued.)