as I have to learn
my profession. Should I return some day, they may help me to own a
ship. I know not what my destiny may be."

"And should you not return?" replied Amine, gravely.

"Then they are yours--as well as all that is in this cottage, and the
cottage itself."

"You have relations, have you not?"

"But one, who is rich; an uncle, who helped us but little in our
distress, and who has no children. I owe him but little, and he wants
nothing. There is but one being in this world who has created an
interest in this heart, Amine, and it is you. I wish you to look upon
me as a brother--I shall always love you as a dear sister."

Amine made no reply. Philip took some more money out of the bag which
had been opened, for the expenses of his journey, and then locking up
the safe and cupboard, gave the keys to Amine. He was about to address
her, when there was a slight knock at the door, and in entered Father
Seysen, the priest.

"Save you, my son; and you, my child, whom as yet I have not seen. You
are, I suppose, the daughter of Mynheer Poots?"

Amine bowed her head.

"I perceive, Philip, that the room is now opened, and I have heard of
all that has passed. I would now talk with thee, Philip, and must beg
this maiden to leave us for awhile alone."

Amine quitted the room, and the priest, sitting down on the couch,
beckoned Philip to his side. The conversation which ensued was too
long to repeat. The priest first questioned Philip relative to his
secret, but on that point he could not obtain the information which he
wished; Philip stated as much as he did to Amine, and no more. He
also declared his intention of going to sea, and that, should he not
return, he had bequeathed his property--the extent of which he did
not make known--to the doctor and his daughter. The priest then made
inquiries relative to Mynheer Poots, asking Philip whether he knew
what his creed was, as he had never appeared at any church, and report
said that he was an infidel. To this Philip, as usual, gave his frank
answer, and intimated that the daughter, at least, was anxious to
be enlightened, begging the priest to undertake a task to which he
himself was not adequate. To this request Father Seysen, who perceived
the state of Philip's mind with regard to Amine, readily consented.
After a conversation of nearly two hours, they were interrupted by the
return of Mynheer Poots, who darted out of the room the instant he
perceived Father Seyse