such dreadful
vengeance?" replied the maiden, calmly.

"What cause, young lady? He came to my house--despoiled the dead--took
from my mother's corpse a relic beyond price."

"Despoiled the dead!--he surely cannot--you must wrong him, young sir."

"No, no. It is the fact, lady,--and that relic--forgive me--but that
relic I must have. You know not what depends upon it."

"Wait, young sir," replied the maiden; "I will soon return."

Philip waited several minutes, lost in thought and admiration: so fair a
creature in the house of Mynheer Poots! Who could she be? While thus
ruminating, he was accosted by the silver voice of the object of his
reveries, who, leaning out of the window held in her hand the black
ribbon to which was attached the article so dearly coveted.

"Here is your relic, sir," said the young female; "I regret much that my
father should have done a deed which well might justify your anger: but
here it is," continued she, dropping it down on the ground by Philip;
"and now you may depart."

"Your father, maiden! can he be _your_ father?" said Philip, forgetting
to take up the relic which lay at his feet.

She would have retired from the window without reply, but Philip spoke a
again--

"Stop, lady, stop one moment, until I beg your forgiveness for a wild,
foolish act. I swear by this sacred relic," continued he, taking it
from the ground and raising it to his lips, "that had I known that any
unoffending person had been in this house, I would not have done the
deed, and much do I rejoice that no harm hath happened. But there is
still danger, lady; the door must be unbarred, and the jambs, which
still are glowing, be extinguished, or the house may yet be burnt. Fear
not for your father, maiden; for had he done me a thousand times more
wrong, you will protect each hair upon his head. He knows me well
enough to know I keep my word. Allow me to repair the injury I have
occasioned, and then I will depart."

"No, no; don't trust him," said Mynheer Poots, from within the chamber.

"Yes, he may be trusted," replied the daughter; "and his services are
much needed for what could a poor weak girl like me, and a still weaker
father, do in this strait? Open the door, and let the house be made
secure." The maiden then addressed Philip--"He shall open the door,
sir, and I will thank you for your kind service. I trust entirely to
your promise."

"I never yet was known to break my word, maiden," repli