"Then we should have a chapter," said Raff Brinker, speaking slowly, and with difficulty. "I do not know how it is. I am very, very weak. Mayhap the minister will read to us."
Gretel lifted the big Dutch Bible from its carved shelf. Dr. Boekman, rather dismayed at being called a minister, coughed and handed the volume to his assistant.
"Read," he muttered; "these people must be kept quiet or the man will die yet."
When the chapter was finished, Dame Brinker motioned mysteriously to the rest by way of telling them that her husband was asleep.
"Now, jufvrouw," said the doctor in a subdued tone, as he drew on his thick woolen mittens, "there must be perfect quiet. You understand. This is truly a most remarkable case. I shall come again to-morrow. Give the patient no food to-day," and, bowing hastily, he left the cottage, followed by his assistant.
His grand coach was not far away; the driver had kept the horses moving slowly up and down by the canal, nearly all the time the doctor had been in the cottage.
Hans went out also.
"May God bless you, mynheer!" he said, blushing and trembling. "I can never repay you, but if——"
"Yes, you can," interrupted the doctor, crossly. "You can use your wits when the patient wakes again. This clacking and snivelling is enough to kill a well man, let alone one lying on the edge of his grave. If you want your father to get well, keep 'em quiet."