prospect of my uncle's return--you were then half frantic, mother, as
you know you sometimes are--"

"Well, Philip, what did you hear me say?" inquired his mother, with
tremulous anxiety.

"You said, mother, that there was money in that room which would save
us; and then you screamed and raved, and said that you preferred death.
Now, mother, what is there in that chamber, and why has it been so long
shut up? Either I know that, or I go to sea."

At the commencement of this address of Philip, his mother appeared to be
transfixed, and motionless as a statue; gradually her lips separated,
and her eyes glared; she seemed to have lost the power of reply; she put
her hand to her right side, as if to compress it, then both her hands,
as if to relieve herself from excruciating torture: at last she sank,
with her head forward, and the blood poured out of her mouth.

Philip sprang from the table to her assistance, and prevented her from
falling on the floor. He laid her on the couch, watching with alarm the
continued effusion.

"Oh! mother--mother, what is this?" cried he, at last, in great
distress.

For some time his mother could make him no reply; she turned further on
her side, that she might not be suffocated by the discharge from the
ruptured vessel, and the snow-white planks of the floor were soon
crimsoned with her blood.

"Speak, dearest mother, if you can," repeated Philip in agony; "What
shall I do?--what shall I give you? God Almighty! what is this?"

"Death, my child, death!" at length replied the poor woman, sinking into
a state of unconsciousness.

Philip, now much alarmed, flew out of the cottage, and called the
neighbours to his mother's assistance. Two or three hastened to the
call; and as soon as Philip saw them occupied in restoring his mother,
he ran as fast as he could to the house of a medical man, who lived
about a mile off;--one Mynheer Poots, a little, miserable, avaricious
wretch but known to be very skilful in his profession. Philip found
Poots at home, and insisted upon his immediate attendance.

"I will come--yes, most certainly," replied Poots, who spoke the
language but imperfectly; "but, Mynheer Vanderdecken, who will pay me?"

"Pay you! my uncle will, directly that he comes home."

"Your uncle, de Skipper Vanbrennen: no, he owe me four guilders, and he
has owed me for a long time. Besides his ship may sink."

"He shall pay you the four guilders, and for this attendance also,