found in the city."

"Ah, mynheer, that would be serving me indeed; it is not the distance I
dread but leaving my mother so long."

"Is she ill?"

"No, mynheer. It is the father. You may have heard it, how he has been
without wit for many a year--ever since the great Schlossen Mill was
built; but his body has been well and strong. Last night the mother
knelt upon the hearth to blow the peat (it is his only delight to sit
and watch the live embers, and she will blow them into a blaze every
hour of the day to please him). Before she could stir, he sprang upon
her like a giant and held her close to the fire, all the time laughing
and shaking his head. I was on the canal, but I heard the mother scream
and ran to her. The father had never loosened his hold, and her gown was
smoking. I tried to deaden the fire, but with one hand he pushed me off.
There was no water in the cottage or I could have done better, and all
that time he laughed--such a terrible laugh, mynheer, hardly a sound,
but all in his face. I tried to pull her away, but that only made it
worse. Then--it was dreadful, but could I see the mother burn? I beat
him--beat him with a stool. He tossed me away. The gown was on fire.! I
WOULD put it out. I can't remember well after that. I found myself upon
the floor, and the mother was praying. It seemed to me that she was in
a blaze, and all the while I could hear that laugh. Gretel flew to the
closet and filled a porringer with the food he liked and put it upon the
floor. Then, mynheer, he left the mother and crawled to it like a little
child. She was not burned, only a part of her clothing. Ah, how kind
she was to him all night, watching and tending him. He slept in a high
fever, with his hands pressed to his head. The mother says he has done
that so much of late, as though he felt pain there. Ah, mynheer, I did
not mean to tell you. If the father was himself, he would not harm even
a kitten."

For a moment the two boys moved on in silence.

"It is terrible," said Peter at last. "How is he today?"

"Very sick, mynheer."

"Why go for Dr. Boekman, Hans? There are others in Amsterdam who
could help him, perhaps. Boekman is a famous man, sought only by the
wealthiest, and they often wait upon him in vain."

"He PROMISED, mynheer, he promised me yesterday to come to the father in
a week. But now that the change has come, we cannot wait. We think the
poor father is dying. Oh, mynheer, you can plead with him to com