“Is he well in health?”

“Not ill, but still evidently wasting away,—­like a candle burnt down to the socket, flitting and flaring alternately; at one time almost imbecile, at others, talking and planning as if he were in the vigour of his youth.  O what a curse it must be—­that love of money!  I believe—­I’m shocked to say so, Philip,—­that that poor old man, now on the brink of a grave into which he can take nothing, would sacrifice your life and mine to have possession of those guilders, the whole of which I would barter for one kiss from thee.”

“Indeed, Amine, has he then attempted anything in my absence?”

“I dare not speak my thoughts, Philip, nor will I venture upon surmises, which it were difficult to prove.  I watch him carefully;—­but talk no more about him.  You will see him soon, and do not expect a hearty welcome, or believe that, if given, it is sincere.  I will not tell him of your return, as I wish to mark the effect.”

Amine then descended to prepare breakfast, and Philip walked out for a few minutes.  On his return, he found Mynheer Poots sitting at the table with his daughter.

“Merciful Allah! am I right?” cried the old man:  “is it you, Mynheer Vanderdecken?”

“Even so,” replied Philip, “I returned last night.”

“And you did not tell me, Amine.”

“I wished that you should be surprised,” replied Amine.

“I am surprised!  When do you sail again, Mynheer Philip? very soon, I suppose? perhaps to-morrow?” said Mynheer Poots.

“Not for many months, I trust,” replied Philip.

“Not for many months!—­that is a long while to be idle.  You must make money.  Tell me, have you brought back plenty this time?”

“No,” replied Philip; “I have been wrecked, and very nearly lost my life.”

“But you will go again?”

“Yes, in good time I shall go again.”

“Very well, we will take care of your house and your guilders.”

“I shall perhaps save you the trouble of taking care of my guilders,” replied Philip, to annoy the old man, “for I mean to take them with me.”

“To take them with you! for what, pray?” replied Poots, in alarm.

“To purchase goods where I go, and make more money.”

“But you may be wrecked again, and then the money will be all lost.  No, no; go yourself, Mynheer Philip; but you must not take your guilders.”

“Indeed I will,” replied Philip; “when I leave this, I shall take all my money with me.”

During this conversation it occurred to Philip that, if Mynheer Poots could only be led to suppose that he took away his money with him, there would be more quiet for Amine, who was now obliged, as she had informed him, to be constantly on the watch.  He determined, therefore, when he next departed, to make the doctor believe that he had taken his wealth with him.

Mynheer Poots did not renew the conversation, but sank into gloomy thought.  In a few minutes he left the parlour, and went up to his own room, when Philip stated to his wife what had induced him to make the old man believe that he should embark his property.