re; so go to bed, and take what I send you, and you will be well
to-morrow."

Philip went up stairs, accompanied by Amine; and Mynheer Poots went into
his own room to prepare the medicine. So soon as Philip was in bed,
Amine went down stairs, and was met by her father, who put a powder into
her hands to give to her husband, and then left the parlour.

"God forgive me if I wrong my father," thought Amine, "but I have my
doubts. Philip is ill, more so than he will acknowledge; and if he does
not take some remedies, he may be worse--but my heart misgives me--I
have a foreboding. Yet surely he cannot be so diabolically wicked."

Amine examined the contents of the paper: it was a very small quantity
of dark-brown powder, and, by the directions of Mynheer Poots, to be
given in a tumbler of warm wine. Mynheer Poots had offered to heat the
wine. His return from the kitchen broke Amine's meditations.

"Here is the wine, my child; now give him a whole tumbler of wine, and
the powder, and let him be covered up warm, for the perspiration will
soon burst out and it must not be checked. Watch him, Amine, and keep
the clothes on, and he will be well to-morrow morning." And Mynheer
Poots quitted the room, saying, "Good night, my child."

Amine poured out the powder into one of the silver mugs on the table,
and then proceeded to mix it up with the wine. Her suspicions had, for
the time been removed by the kind tone of her father's voice. To do him
justice as a medical practitioner, he appeared always to be most careful
of his patients. When Amine mixed the powder, she examined and
perceived that there was no sediment, and the wine was as clear as
before. This was unusual, and her suspicions revived.

"I like it not," said she; "I fear my father--God help me!--I hardly
know what to do--I will not give it to Philip. The warm wine may
produce perspiration sufficient."

Amine paused, and again reflected. She had mixed the powder with so
small a portion of wine that it did not fill a quarter of the cup; she
put it on one side, filled another up to the brim with the warm wine,
and then went up to the bedroom.

On the landing-place she was met by her father, whom she supposed to
have retired to rest.

"Take care you do not spill it, Amine. That is right, let him have a
whole cupful. Stop, give it to me; I will take it to him myself."

Mynheer Poots took the cup from Amine's hands, and went into Philip's
room.

"Here