"Speak, dearest mother, if you can," repeated Philip, in agony; "what shall I do? what shall I give you? God Almighty! what is this?" "Death, my child, death!" at length replied the poor woman, sinking into a state of unconsciousness. Philip, now much alarmed, flew out of the cottage, and called the neighbours to his mother's assistance. Two or three hastened to the call; and as soon as Philip saw them occupied in restoring his mother, he ran as fast as he could to the house of a medical man, who lived about a mile off--one Mynheer Poots, a little, miserable, avaricious wretch, but known to be very skilful in his profession. Philip found Poots at home, and insisted upon his immediate attendance. "I will come--yes, most certainly," replied Poots, who spoke the language but imperfectly; "but Mynheer Vanderdecken, who will pay me?" "Pay you! my uncle will, directly that he comes home." "Your uncle de Skipper Van Brennen: no, he owes me four guilders, and he has owed me for a long time. Besides, his ship may sink." "He shall pay you the four guilders, and for this attendance also," replied Philip, in a rage; "come directly, while you are disputing my mother may be dead." "But, Mr Philip, I cannot come, now I recollect; I have to see the child of the burgomaster at Terneuse," replied Mynheer Poots. "Look you, Mynheer Poots," exclaimed Philip, red with passion; "you have but to choose,--will you go quietly, or must I take you there? You'll not trifle with me." Here Mynheer Poots was under considerable alarm, for the character of Philip Vanderdecken was well known. "I will come by-and-bye, Mynheer Philip, if I can." "You'll come now, you wretched old miser," exclaimed Philip, seizing hold of the little man by the collar, and pulling him out of his door. "Murder! murder!" cried Poots, as he lost his legs, and was dragged along by the impetuous young man. Philip stopped, for he perceived that Poots was black in the face. "Must I then choke you, to make you go quietly? for, hear me, go you shall, alive or dead." "Well, then," replied Poots, recovering himself, "I will go, but I'll have you in prison to-night: and, as for your mother, I'll not--no, that I will not--Mynheer Philip, depend upon it." "Mark me, Mynheer Poots," replied Philip, "as sure as there is a God in heaven, if you do not come with me, I'll choke you now; and when you arrive, if you do not do your best for my poor mother, I'll murder you there. You know that I always do what I say, so now take my advice, come along quietly, and you shall certainly be paid, and well paid--if I sell my coat."