Too anxious to remain any longer quiescent， I had no sooner breakfasted， than I repaired once more to M.Vandenhuten’s， scarcely hoping to find him at home； for a week had barely elapsed since my first call： but fancying I might be able to glean information as to the time when his return was expected.A better result awaited me than I had anticipated， for though the family were yet at Ostend， M.Vandenhuten had come over to Brussels on business for the day.He received me with the quiet kindness of a sincere though not excitable man.I had not sat five minutes alone with him in his bureau， before I became aware of a sense of ease in his presence， such as I rarely experienced with strangers.I was surprised at my own composure， for， after all， I had come on business to me exceedingly painful—that of soliciting a favour.I asked on what basis the calm rested—I feared it might be deceptive.Ere long I caught a glimpse of the ground， and at once I felt assured of its solidity； I knew where it was.
M.Vandenhuten was rich， respected， and influential； I， poor， despised and powerless； so we stood to the world at large as members of the world’s society； but to each other， as a pair ofhuman beings， our positions were reversed.The Dutchman (he was not Flamand， but pure Hollandais) was slow， cool， of rather dense intelligence， though sound and accurate judgment； the Englishman far more nervous， active， quicker both to plan and to practise， to conceive and to realize.The Dutchman was benevolent， the Englishman susceptible； in short our characters dovetailed， but my mind having more fire and action than his， instinctively assumed and kept the predominance.
This point settled， and my position well ascertained， I addressed him on the subject of my affairs with that genuine frankness which full confidence can alone inspire.It was a pleasure to him to be so appealed to； he thanked me for giving him this opportunity of using a little exertion in my behalf.I went on to explain to him that my wish was not so much to be helped， as to be put into the way of helping myself； of him I did not want exertion—that was to be my part—but only information and recommendation.Soon after I rose to go.He held out his hand at parting—an action of greater significance with foreigners than with Englishmen.As I exchanged a smile with him， I thought the benevolence of his truthful face was better than the intelligence of my own.Characters of my order experience a balm-like solace in the contact of such souls as animated the honest breast of Victor Vandenhuten.
The next fortnight was a period of many alternations； my existence during its lapse resembled a sky of one of those autumnal nights which are specially haunted by meteors and falling stars.Hopes and fears， expectations and disappointments， descended in glancing showers from zenith to horizon； but all were transient， and darkness followed swift each vanishingapparition.M.Vandenhuten aided me faithfully； he set me on the track of several places， and himself made efforts to secure them for me； but for a long time solicitation and recommendation were vain—the door either shut in my face when I was about to walk in， or another candidate， entering before me， rendered my further advance useless.Feverish and roused， no disappointment arrested me； defeat following fast on defeat served as stimulants to will.I forgot fastidiousness， conquered reserve， thrust pride from me： I asked， I persevered， I remonstrated， I dunned.It is so that openings are forced into the guarded circle where Fortune sits dealing favours round.My perseverance made me known； my importunity made me remarked.I was inquired about； my former pupils’ parents， gathering the reports of their children， heard me spoken of as talented， and they echoed the word： the sound， bandied about at random， came at last to ears which， but for its universality， it might never have reached； and at the very crisis when I had tried my last effort and knew not what to do， Fortune looked in at me one morning， as I sat in drear and almost desperate deliberation on my bedstead， nodded with the familiarity of an old acquaintance—though God knows I had never met her before—and threw a prize into my lap.
In the second week of October， 18—， I got the appointment ofEnglish professor to all the classes of — College， Brussels， with a salary of three thousand francs per annum； and the certainty of being able， by dint of the reputation and publicity accompanying the position， to make as much more by private means.The official notice， which communicated this information， mentioned also that it was the strong recommendation of M.Vandenhuten， négociant， which had turned the scale of choice in my favour.
No sooner had I read the announcement than I hurried to M.Vandenhuten’s bureau， pushed the document under his nose， and when he had perused it， took both his hands， and thanked him with unrestrained vivacity.My vivid words and emphatic gesture moved his Dutch calm to unwonted sensation.He said he was happy—glad to have served me； but he had done nothing meriting such thanks.He had not laid out a centime—only scratched a few words on a sheet of paper.
Again I repeated to him—
“You have made me quite happy， and in a way that suits me； I do not feel an obligation irksome， conferred by your kind hand； I do not feel disposed to shun you because you have done me a favour； from this day you must consent to admit me to your intimate acquaintance， for I shall hereafter recur again and again to the pleasure of your society.”
“Ainsi soit-il，” was the reply， accompanied by a smile ofbenignant content.I went away with its sunshine in my heart.
