"Thousand guilders," echoed a faint voice from the bed. "Ah, I am sure they have been of good use to you, vrouw, through the long years while your man was idle." The poor woman started up. These words quite destroyed the hope that of late had been glowing within her. "Are you awake, Raff?" she faltered. "Yes, Meitje, and I feel much better. Our money was well saved, vrouw, I was saying. Did it last through all these ten years?" "I--I--have not got it, Raff, I----" She was going to tell him the whole truth, when Hans lifted his finger warningly and whispered: "Remember what the meester told us; the father must not be worried." "Speak to him, child," she answered, trembling. Hans hurried to the bedside. "I am glad you are feeling better," he said, leaning over his father; "another day will see you quite strong again." "Aye, like enough. How long did the money last, Hans? I could not hear your mother. What did she say?" "I said, Raff," stammered Dame Brinker in great distress, "that it was all gone." "Well, well, wife, do not fret at that; one thousand guilders is not so very much for ten years, and with children to bring up; but it has helped to make you all comfortable. Have you had much sickness to bear?" "N-no," sobbed Dame Brinker lifting her apron to her eyes. "Tut--tut, woman, why do you cry?" said Raff, kindly; "we will soon fill another pouch, when I am on my feet again. Lucky I told you all about it before I fell." "Told me what, man?" "Why, that I buried the money. In my dream just now, it seemed I had never said aught about it." Dame Brinker started forward. Hans caught her arm. "Hist! mother," he whispered, hastily leading her away, "we must be very careful." Then while she stood with clasped hands waiting in breathless anxiety, he once more approached the cot. Trembling with eagerness he said: "That was a troublesome dream. Do you remember _when_ you buried the money, father?" "Yes, my boy. It was before daylight on the same day I was hurt. Jan Kamphuisen said something, the sundown before, that made me distrust his honesty. He was the only one living besides mother who knew we had saved a thousand guilders--so I rose up that night and buried the money--blockhead that I was ever to suspect an old friend!" "I'll be bound, father," pursued Hans in a laughing voice, motioning to his mother and Gretel to remain quiet--"that you've forgotten where you buried it." "Ha! ha! not I, indeed--but good-night, my son, I can sleep again." Hans would have walked away, but his mother's gestures were not to be disobeyed--so he said gently: "Good-night, father. Where did you say you buried the money? I was only a little one then." "Close by the willow sapling behind the cottage," said Raff Brinker drowsily. "Ah, yes. North side of the tree, wasn't it, father?"