Dr. Boekman was evidently displeased. He turned his back on the boy, and conferred aside with Laurens. Meanwhile the dame scowled a terrible warning at Hans. These great people, she knew well enough, never like to hear poor folk speak up so pert. The meester turned around. "How old are you, Hans Brinker?" "Fifteen, mynheer," was the startled reply. "Would you like to become a physician?" "Yes, mynheer," answered Hans, quivering with excitement. "Would you be willing, with your parents' consent, to devote yourself to study, to go to the University--and, in time, be a student in my office?" "YES, mynheer." "You would not grow restless, think you, and change your mind just as I had set my heart upon preparing you to be my successor?" Hans' eyes flashed. "No, mynheer, I would not change." "You may believe him, there," cried the dame, who could remain quiet no longer. "Hans is like a rock, when once he decides; and as for study, mynheer, the child has almost grown fast to his books of late. He can jumble off Latin already, like any priest!" The doctor smiled. "Well, Hans, I see nothing to prevent us from carrying out this plan, if your father agrees." "Ahem," said Raff, too proud of his boy to be very meek, "the fact is, mynheer, I prefer an active, out-of-door life, myself. But if the lad's inclined to study for a meester, and he'd have the benefit of your good word to push him on in the world, it's all one to me. The money's all that's a wanting, but it mightn't be long, with two strong pair of arms to earn it, before we----" "Tut! tut!" interrupted the doctor, "if I take your right hand man away, I must pay the cost, and glad enough will I be to do it. It will be like having _two_ sons--eh, Laurens? One a merchant and the other a surgeon--I shall be the happiest man in Holland! Come to me in the morning, Hans, and we will arrange matters at once." Hans bowed assent. He dared not trust himself to speak. "And, Brinker," continued the doctor, "my son Laurens will need a trusty, ready man like you, when he opens his warehouse in Amsterdam; some one to overlook matters, and see that the lazy clowns round about the place do their duty. Some one to----Why don't you tell him yourself, you rascal!" This last was addressed to the son, and did not sound half as fierce as it looks in print. The rascal and Raff soon understood each other perfectly. "I'm loath to leave the dykes," said the latter, after they had talked together a while, "but you have made me such a good offer, mynheer, I'd be robbing my family if I let it go past me." * * * * * Take a long look at Hans as he sits there staring gratefully at the meester, for you shall not see him again for many years. And Gretel--Ah, what a vista of puzzling work suddenly opens before her! Yes, for dear Hans' sake she will study now. If he really is to be a meester, his sister must not shame his greatness.