"Well, if not--since it's no affair of ours--we'll say no more about it," said Raff, shaking his head sadly; "like enough while I've been dead on the earth, all this time, the poor boy's died and been in Heaven. He looked near enough to it, poor lad!" "Raff Brinker! If you're going to treat me this way, and I nursing you and bearing with you since I was twenty-two years old, it's a shame! aye, and a disgrace," cried the vrouw growing quite red, and scant of breath. Raff's voice was feeble yet. "Treat you _what_ way, Meitje?" "What way," said Dame Brinker, mimicking his voice and manner, "what way? why just as every woman in the world is treated after she's stood by a man through the worst, like a----" "Meitje!" Raff was leaning forward, with outstretched arms. His eyes were full of tears. In an instant Dame Brinker was at his feet, clasping his hands in hers. "Oh! what have I done! Made my good man cry, and he not back with me four days! Look up, Raff! nay, Raff, my own boy, I'm sorry I hurt thee. It's hard not to be told about the watch after waiting ten years to know--but I'll ask thee no more, Raff. Here, we'll put the thing away that's made the first trouble between us, after God just giving thee back to me." "I was a fool to cry, Meitje," he said, kissing her, "and it's no more than right ye should know the truth. But it seemed like it might be telling the secrets of the dead to talk about the matter." "Is the man--the lad--thou wert talking of dead, think thee?" asked the vrouw, hiding the watch in her hand, but seating herself expectantly on the end of his long foot-bench. "It's hard telling," he answered. "Was he so sick, Raff?" "No, not sick, I may say; but troubled, vrouw, very troubled." "Had he done any wrong, think ye?" she asked lowering her voice. Raff nodded. "_Murder?_" whispered the wife, not daring to look up. "He said it was like to that, indeed." "Oh! Raff, you frighten me--tell me more--you speak so strange--and you tremble. I must know all." "If I tremble, mine vrouw, it must be from the fever. There is no guilt on my soul, thank God!" "Take a sip of this wine, Raff. There, now you are better. It was like to a crime you were saying." "Aye, Meitje, like to murder; _that_ he told me himself. But I'll never believe it. A likely lad, fresh and honest looking as our own youngster, but with something not so bold and straight about him." "Aye, I know," said the dame, gently, fearing to interrupt the story. "He came upon me quite sudden," continued Raff. "I had never seen his face before, the palest, frightenedest face that ever was. He caught me by the arm. 'You look like an honest man,' says he." "Aye, he was right in that," interrupted the dame, emphatically. Raff looked somewhat bewildered. "Where was I, mine vrouw?" "The lad took hold of your arm, Raff," she said, gazing at him anxiously. "Aye, so. The words come awkward to me, and everything is half like a dream, ye see."