ter must be sent?"

Raff shook his head sadly.

"Think!" implored the doctor. Surely the memory so lately awakened
through his aid could not refuse to serve him in a moment like this.

"It is all gone, mynheer," sighed Raff.

Hans, forgetting distinctions of rank and station, forgetting everything
but that his good friend was in trouble, threw his arms around the
doctor's neck.

"I can find your son, mynheer. If alive, he is SOMEWHERE. The earth is
not so very large. I will devote every day of my life to the search.
Mother can spare me now. You are rich, mynheer. Send me where you will."

Gretel began to cry. It was right for Hans to go, but how could they
ever live without him?

Dr. Boekman made no reply, neither did he push Hans away. His eyes were
fixed anxiously upon Raff Brinker. Suddenly he lifted the watch and,
with trembling eagerness, attempted to open it. Its stiffened spring
yielded at last; the case flew open, disclosing a watch paper in the
back bearing a group of blue forget-me-nots. Raff, seeing a shade of
intense disappointment pass over the doctor's face, hastened to say,
"There was something else in it, mynheer, but the young gentleman tore
it out before he handed it to me. I saw him kiss it as he put it away."

"It was his mother's picture," moaned the doctor. "She died when he was
ten years old. Thank God! The boy had not forgotten! Both dead? It is
impossible!" he cried, starting up. "My boy is alive. You shall hear his
story. Laurens acted as my assistant. By mistake he portioned out the
wrong medicine for one of my patients--a deadly poison--but it was never
administered, for I discovered the error in time. The man died that
day. I was detained with other bad cases until the next evening. When I
reached home my boy was gone. Poor Laurens!" sobbed the doctor, breaking
down completely. "Never to hear from me through all these years. His
message disregarded. Oh, what he must have suffered!"

Dame Brinker ventured to speak. Anything was better than to see the
meester cry.

"It is a mercy to know the young gentleman was innocent. Ah, how he
fretted! Telling you, Raff, that his crime was like unto murder. It
was sending the wrong physic that he meant. Crime indeed! Why, our own
Gretel might have done that! Like enough the poor young gentleman heard
that the man was dead--that's why he ran, mynheer. He said, you know,
Raff, that he never could come back to Holland again, unless"--she
hesitate