“Mother,” said Dolph, “don’t talk in that strain; I’ve been too long a charge upon you; it’s now my part to take care of you in your old days.  Come! be of good heart! you, and I, and Tib, will all see better days.  I’m here, you see, young, and sound, and hearty; then don’t let us despair; I dare say things will all, some how or other, turn out for the best.”

While this scene was going on with the Heyliger family, the news was carried to Doctor Knipperhausen, of the safe return of his disciple.  The little doctor scarcely knew whether to rejoice or be sorry at the tidings.  He was happy at having the foul reports which had prevailed concerning his country mansion thus disproved; but he grieved at having his disciple, of whom he had supposed himself fairly disencumbered, thus drifting back, a heavy charge upon his hands.  While he was balancing between these two feelings, he was determined by the counsels of Frau Ilsy, who advised him to take advantage of the truant absence of the youngster, and shut the door upon him for ever.

At the hour of bed-time, therefore, when it was supposed the recreant disciple would seek his old quarters, every thing was prepared for his reception.  Dolph, having talked his mother into a state of tranquillity, sought the mansion of his quondam master, and raised the knocker with a faltering hand.  Scarcely, however, had it given a dubious rap, when the doctor’s head, in a red night-cap, popped out of one window, and the housekeeper’s, in a white night-cap, out of another.  He was now greeted with a tremendous volley of hard names and hard language, mingled with invaluable pieces of advice, such as are seldom ventured to be given excepting to a friend in distress, or a culprit at the bar.  In a few moments, not a window in the street but had its particular night-cap, listening to the shrill treble of Frau Ilsy, and the guttural croaking of Dr. Knipperhausen; and the word went from window to window, “Ah! here’s Dolph Heyliger come back, and at his old pranks again.”  In short, poor Dolph found he was likely to get nothing from the doctor but good advice—­a commodity so abundant as even to be thrown out of the window; so he was fain to beat a retreat, and take up his quarters for the night under the lowly roof of honest Peter de Groodt.

The next morning, bright and early, Dolph was at the haunted house.  Every thing looked just as he had left it.  The fields were grass-grown and matted, and it appeared as if nobody had traversed them since his departure.  With palpitating heart, he hastened to the well.  He looked down into it, and saw that it was of great depth, with water at the bottom.  He had provided himself with a strong line, such as the fishermen use on the banks of Newfoundland.  At the end was a heavy plummet and a large fish-hook.  With this he began to sound the bottom of the well, and to angle about in the water.  He found that the water was of some depth; there appeared also to be much rubbish, stones from