“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 surrender up the stolen property was his first thought, but fear of Vanderdecken’s violence prevented him; so he decided on taking to his heels, thus hoping to gain his house, and barricade himself in, by which means he would be in a condition to keep possession of what he had stolen, or at least make some terms ere he restored it.

Mynheer Poots had need to run fast, and so he did; his thin legs bearing his shrivelled form rapidly over the ground; but Philip, who, when he witnessed the doctor’s attempt to escape, was fully convinced that he was the culprit, redoubled his exertions, and rapidly came up with the chase.  When within a hundred yards of his own door, Mynheer Poots heard the bounding step of Philip gain upon him, and he sprang and leaped in his agony.  Nearer and nearer still the step, until at last he heard the very breathing of his pursuer, and Poots shrieked in his fear, like