"No, the south side. Ah, you know the spot well enough, you rogue--like enough you were there when your mother lifted it. Now, son--easy--shift this pillow--so. Good-night." "Good-night, father!" said Hans, ready to dance for joy. * * * * * The moon rose very late that night, shining in, full and clear, at the little window; but its beams did not disturb Raff Brinker. He slept soundly, so did Gretel. As for Hans and his mother, they had something else to do. After making a few hurried preparations, they stole forth with bright expectant faces, bearing a broken spade and a rusty implement that had done many a day's service when Raff was a hale worker on the dykes. It was so light out of doors they could see the willow tree distinctly. The frozen ground was hard as stone, but Hans and his mother were resolute. Their only dread was that they might disturb the sleepers in the cottage. "This ysbrekker is just the thing, mother," said Hans striking many a vigorous blow--"but the ground has set so firm it'll be a fair match for it." "Never fear, Hans," she answered, watching him eagerly; "here, let me try a while." They soon succeeded in making an impression; one opening, and the rest was not so difficult. Still they worked on, taking turns and whispering cheerily to one another. Now and then Dame Brinker stepped noiselessly over the threshold and listened, to be certain that her husband slept. "What grand news it will be for him," she said, laughing, "when he is strong enough to bear it. How I should like to put the pouch and the stocking, just as we find them, all full of money, near him this blessed night, for the dear man to see when he wakens." "We must get them, first, mother," panted Hans, still tugging away at his work. "There's no doubt of that. They can't slip away from us now," she answered, shivering with cold and excitement, as she crouched beside the opening. "Like enough we'll find them stowed in the old earthen pot I lost long ago." By this time Hans, too, began to tremble, but not with cold. He had penetrated a foot deep for quite a space on the south side of the tree. At any moment they might come upon the treasure. Meantime the stars winked and blinked at each other as if to say, "Queer country, this Holland! How much we do see to be sure!" "Strange that the dear father should have put it down so woeful deep," said Dame Brinker, in rather a provoked tone. "Ah, the ground was soft enough then, I warrant. How wise of him to mistrust Jan Kamphuisen, and Jan in full credit at the time. Little I thought that handsome fellow with his gay ways would ever go to jail! Now, Hans, let me take a turn--it's lighter work, d'ye see? the deeper we go. I'd be loath to kill the tree, Hans--will we harm it, think you?" "I cannot say," he answered, gravely.