"This, then, is the chamber which has so long been closed," said Amine, on entering it the next morning, long before Philip had awakened from the sound sleep produced by the watching of the night before. "Yes, indeed, it has the air of having long been closed." Amine looked around her, and then examined the furniture. Her eyes were attracted to the bird-cages; she looked into them:--"Poor little things!" continued she, "and here it was his father appeared unto his mother. Well, it may be so,--Philip saith that he hath proofs; and why should he not appear? Were Philip dead, I should rejoice to see his spirit,--at least it would be something. What am I saying--unfaithful lips, thus to betray my secret?--The table thrown over;--that looks like the work of fear; a workbox, with all its implements scattered,--only a woman's fear: a mouse might have caused all this; and yet there is something solemn in the simple fact that, for so many years, not a living being has crossed these boards. Even that a table thus overthrown could thus remain for years, seems scarcely natural, and therefore has its power on the mind. I wonder not that Philip feels there is so heavy a secret belonging to this room--but it must not remain in this condition--it must be occupied at once." Amine, who had long been accustomed to attend upon her father, and perform the household duties, now commenced her intended labours. Every part of the room, and every piece of furniture in it, were cleaned; even the cobwebs and dust were cleared away, and the sofa and table brought from the corner to the centre of the room; the melancholy little prisons were removed; and when Amine's work of neatness was complete, and the sun shone brightly into the opened window, the chamber wore the appearance of cheerfulness. Amine had the intuitive good sense to feel that strong impressions wear away when the objects connected with them are removed. She resolved then to make Philip more at ease; for, with all the fire and warmth of blood inherent in her race, she had taken his image to her heart, and was determined to win him. Again and again did she resume her labour, until the pictures about the room, and every other article, looked fresh and clean. Not only the bird-cages, but the workbox, and all the implements, were removed; and the piece of embroidery, the taking up of which had made Philip recoil, as if he had touched an adder, was put away with the rest. Philip had left the keys on the floor. Amine opened the buffets, cleaned the glazed doors, and was busy rubbing up the silver flagons when her father came into the room. "Mercy on me!" exclaimed Mynheer Poots; "and is all that silver?--then it must be true, and he has thousands of guilders; but where are they?" "Never do you mind, father; yours are now safe, and for that you have to thank Philip Vanderdecken."