The Poor Gentleman

tly been cleaned with the utmost care, every thing about it betokened decay. Its joints were open, discolored, and weather-beaten, and it swung from side to side on its springs like a rickety

ly polished, and the vestiges of silver-plating, still visible in the creases of the orna

bering gait intimated very clearly that he was oftener employed in

n 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

raciously 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

inch 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 pr

l inn on the dike outside of the city of Antwerp. The landlady and groom instantly sallied forth, an

be well for the high-grounds if we had a sprinkle more of rain, Monsieur Vlierbeck? Shall we give the horse some hay, Monsi

out 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

as if to see if any one was observing him, dusted his garments, brushed his hat with

he profoundest agony! He was, perhaps, about to suffer humiliation,-a humiliation that would cut him to the very heart! But there was a being in the world whom he loved better than his life or honor,-his only child, his daughter! For her-how frequently had he already sacrificed

as about to visit. Soon after he stopped at a door, and, as he pulled the bell, his hand trembled violently in sp

servant replied affirmatively, and, showing the vi

ght foot over the left to hide the rent in his boot, drew

assumed that reserved air with which a cautious man arms himself when he expects a request which he is predetermined to refuse. Instead, therefore, of lavishing on Monsieur De V

slightly pale; still, he managed to rally his nerves, as he remarked, affably,-"Pray excuse me, sir; bu

h of me?" answered

not want all the money at once, but I have especial need of two hundred francs, which I must ask the favor of you to le

"and who, pray, will guarantee the interest? Your pr

ir," exclaimed Monsieur

nd the consequence is that your creditors will not get back their loans unless it shall sell for an extraordinary price. Permit me to say, sir, that you have acted ve

rough his mind, but said nothing, though his hand grasp

can no longer disguise it. For ten years-and God knows at what cost-you have been able to keep the secret of your r

of doubt and agony on the no

ve directed me not to renew it. If Monsieur Hoogebaen was your friend his heirs certainly are not. During ten years you have failed to cancel this debt, and have paid two t

oor gentleman, in a distressed tone;

s is a painful prospect; but, as it is a decree of fate that no one can control, you have nothing to do but prepare to receive the blow.

s face buried in his hands, as if crushed by the notary's adv

which I hold sacred. I have reason to believe that God is about granting the earnest prayer I have daily offered for ten years. My daughter is beloved by a rich gentleman, whose character I think I may confide in, and his family appears to sympathize in all his

may be? Do you not suppose that by such a course of c

stung by an adder, while a nervous thrill ran through

n myself and my beloved child by teaching." He stopped for a moment, as if swallowing his grief, and then continued, in a lower tone, half speaking to himself, "And, yet, did I not promise my dear wife on her death-bed-did I not promise it on the holy cross-that our child should not undergo such a fate? Ten years of suffering-ten abject years-have not sufficed to realiz

rrassment, "Yet, Monsieur De Vlierbeck, I cannot comprehend

ely nothing to give them! Besides this, my child needs some trifles to appear decently before the guests, and it is probable that the civility will be returned by an invitation from them. Our isolation cannot long conceal our want. Sacrifices of all kinds have already been made to prevent our being overwhelmed with mortification." As he uttered these last words he drew forth his han

deceive my clients, sir. What pledge can you give to secure the loan?

ed De Vlierbeck. "Lend me, at least, somethi

coldly. "In a fortnight perhaps I may have some;

endship, I beseech you, le

what I might lend," said the notary, contemp

ow knotted with frowns. Yet he quickly curbed the unwonted agitation, bowed his head, and sighed, re

whether the poor gentleman was wounded by the actual receipt of charity, or whether the sum was too small to be useful; but

De Vlierbeck sprang from his chair, dashing away the tears that had gathered in his eyes. The notary pointed to the money,

said he, "but I have now on

it

p my secret for my

know me well enough to be aware of my dis

d; and, trembling as if seized by a sudden chill, he rushed from the

fellow ran about the streets for a considerable length of time without knowing what he was about or whither he was going. At length the stern conviction of want and duty part

f suffering, shame, and hope. After a while he drew forth from his pocket the golden snuff-box, looked long and sadly on the armorial engravings that adorned it, and then fell into a reverie, from which h

shield whenever poverty was on the eve of betraying me, last fragment of my ancestry, I must bid thee farewell; and-alas! alas!-my own

of the crest and shield disappeared from the emblazoned lid. After this he returned to the heart of the town and passed th

earch. His eye lighted on a sign which bore the simple but ominous inscription-"SWORN PAWNBROKER." He passed by the door and walked rapidly to the end of the lane; then, turning hastily, he retraced his steps

through which the sufferer had passed. Walking rapidly from street to street, he soon reached a pastry-cook's, where he filled a basket with a stuffed turkey, a pie, preserves, and various other smaller equipments for the table, and, paying for his purchas