“I am not afraid,” replied Amine, pressing her hand to her heart.  “It is over now:  spirit of my dear husband—­for such I think thou art, I thank thee!  Welcome, even in death, Philip, welcome!” and Amine waved her hand mournfully, inviting Philip to enter, as she retired from the window.

“My God! she thinks me dead,” thought Philip, and hardly knowing how to act, he entered in at the window, and found her sitting on the sofa.  Philip would have spoken; but Amine, whose eyes were fixed upon him as he entered, and who was fully convinced that he was but a supernatural appearance, exclaimed—­

“So soon—­so soon!  O God! thy will be done:  but it is hard to bear.  Philip, beloved Philip!  I feel that I soon shall follow you.”

Philip was now more alarmed:  he was fearful of any sudden reaction when Amine should discover that he was still alive.

“Amine, dear, hear me.  I have appeared unexpectedly, and at an unusual hour; but throw yourself into my arms, and you will find that your Philip is not dead.”

“Not dead!” cried Amine, starting up.

“No, no, still warm in flesh and blood, Amine—­still your fond and doting husband,” replied Philip, catching her in his arms, and pressing her to his heart.

Amine sank from his embrace down upon the sofa, and fortunately was relieved by a burst of tears, while Philip, kneeling by her, supported her.

“O God!  O God!  I thank thee,” replied Amine, at last.  “I thought it was your spirit, Philip.  O I was glad to see even that,” continued she, weeping on his shoulder.

“Can you listen to me, dearest?” said Philip, after a silence of a few moments.

“O speak, speak, love; I can listen for ever.”

In a few words Philip then recounted what had taken place, and the occasion of his unexpected return, and felt himself more than repaid for all that he had suffered by the fond endearments of his still agitated Amine.

“And your father, Amine?”

“He is well—­we will talk of him to-morrow.”

“Yes,” thought Philip, as he awoke next morning, and dwelt upon the lovely features of his still slumbering wife:  “yes, God is merciful.  I feel that there is still happiness in store for me; nay more, that that happiness also depends upon my due performance of my task, and that I should be punished if I were to forget my solemn vow.  Be it so,—­through danger and to death will I perform my duty, trusting to his mercy for a reward both here below and in heaven above.  Am I not repaid for all that I have suffered?  O yes, more than repaid,” thought Philip, as, with a kiss, he disturbed the slumber of his wife, and met her full dark eyes fixed upon him, beaming with love and joy.

Before Philip Went downstairs, he inquired about Mynheer Poots.

“My father has indeed troubled me much,” replied Amine.  “I am obliged to lock the parlour when I leave it, for more than once I have found him attempting to force the locks of the buffets.  His love of gold is insatiable:  he dreams of nothing else.  He has caused me much pain, insisting that I never should see you again, and that I should surrender to him all your wealth.  But he fears me, and he fears your return much more.”