in a square frame of pure gold, was worth much more
than the sum due to him: he also knew that a large price had been paid
for the relic itself, and as at that time such a relic was considered
very valuable, he had no doubt but that it would again fetch a
considerable sum. Tempted by the sight of it when he entered the
chamber of death, he had taken it from the neck of the corpse, and it
was then actually concealed in his bosom, so he replied--

"My offer is a good one, Mynheer Philip, and you had better take it.
Of what use is such trash?"

"I tell you, no," cried Philip, in a rage.

"Well, then, you will let me have it in my possession till I am paid,
Mynheer Vanderdecken--that is but fair. I must not lose my money. When
you bring me my three guilders and a half and the phial, I will return
it to you."

Philip's indignation was now without bounds. He seized Mynheer Poots
by the collar, and threw him out of the door. "Away immediately,"
cried he, "or by--"

There was no occasion for Philip to finish the imprecation. The doctor
had hastened away with such alarm, that he fell down half the steps
of the staircase, and was limping away across the bridge. He almost
wished that the relic had not been in his possession; but his sudden
retreat had prevented him, even if so inclined, from replacing it on
the corpse.

The result of this conversation naturally turned Philip's thoughts to
the relic, and he went into his mother's room to take possession of
it. He opened the curtains--the corpse was laid out--he put forth his
hand to untie the black ribbon. It was not there. "Gone!" exclaimed
Philip. "They hardly would have removed it--never would--. It must
be that villain Poots--wretch; but I will have it, even if he has
swallowed it, though I tear him limb from limb!"

Philip darted down the stairs, rushed out of the house, cleared the
moat at one bound, and without coat or hat, flew away in the direction
of the doctor's lonely residence. The neighbours saw him as he passed
them like the wind; they wondered, and they shook their heads. Mynheer
Poots was not more than half-way to his home, for he had hurt his
ankle. Apprehensive of what might possibly take place should his theft
be discovered, he occasionally looked behind him; at length, to his
horror, he beheld Philip Vanderdecken at a distance bounding on in
pursuit of him. Frightened almost out of his senses, the wretched
pilferer hardly knew how to act; to stop and