In vain Dr. Boekman commanded "silence!" and tried to force them from the bedside. He could not keep them off.
Hans and his mother laughed and cried together, as they hung over the newly-awakened man. Gretel made no sound, but gazed at them all with glad, startled eyes. Her father was speaking in a faint voice.
"Is the baby asleep, Meitje?"
"The baby!" echoed Dame Brinker. "Oh, Gretel! that is you! And he calls Hans, 'little Hans.' Ten years asleep! Oh, mynheer, you have saved us all. He has known nothing for ten years! Children, why don't you thank the meester?"
The good woman was beside herself with joy. Dr. Boekman said nothing; but as his eye met hers, he pointed upward. She understood. So did Hans and Gretel.
With one accord they knelt by the cot, side by side. Dame Brinker felt for her husband's hand even while she was praying. Dr. Boekman's head was bowed; the assistant stood by the hearth with his back toward them.
"Why do you pray?" murmured the father, looking feebly from the bed, as they rose. "Is it God's day?"
It was not Sunday; but his vrouw bowed her head—she could not speak.
There was a movement upon the bed