wards the door.

"Is it possible," said she, sweeping the hair from off her brow, "so
soon,--yes, yes, 'tis even so. I feel that I would sooner share his
hidden woe--his dangers--even death itself were preferable with him,
than ease and happiness with any other. And it shall be strange indeed
if I do not. This night my father shall move into his cottage; I will
prepare at once."

The report of Philip and Mynheer Poots was taken down by the
authorities, the bodies examined, and one or two of them recognised as
well-known marauders. They were then removed by the order of the
burgomaster. The authorities broke up their council, and Philip and
Mynheer Poots were permitted to return to Amine. It will not be
necessary to repeat the conversation which ensued: it will be sufficient
to state that Poots yielded to the arguments employed by Amine and
Philip, particularly the one of paying no rent. A conveyance for the
furniture and medicines was procured, and in the afternoon most of the
effects were taken away. It was not, however, till dusk that the strong
box of the doctor was put into the cart, and Philip went with it as a
protector. Amine also walked by the side of the vehicle, with her
father. As it may be supposed, it was late that night before they had
made their arrangements, and had retired to rest.

CHAPTER SIX.

"This, then, is the chamber, which has so long been closed," said Amine,
on entering it the next morning long before Philip had awakened from the
sound sleep produced by the watching of the night before. "Yes, indeed,
it has the air of having long been closed." Amine looked around her,
and then examined the furniture. Her eyes were attracted to the
birdcages: she looked into them:--"Poor little things!" continued she,
"and here it was his father appeared unto his mother. Well, it may be
so,--Philip saith that he hath proofs; and why should he not appear?
Were Philip dead, I should rejoice to see his spirit,--at least it would
be something. What am I saying--unfaithful lips, thus to betray my
secret?--The table thrown over:--that looks like the work of fear; a
workbox, with all its implements scattered,--only a woman's fear: a
mouse might have caused all this; and yet there is something solemn in
the simple fact that, for so many years, not a living being has crossed
these boards. Even that a table thus overthrown could so remain for
years seems scarcely natural, and therefore has its pow