What could the boys think, but that the entire Brinker family had suddenly gone crazy!
They bade an embarrassed "good-evening," and turned to go. But Raff stopped them.
"This Thomas Higgs, young masters, is a—a person."
"Ah!" exclaimed Peter, quite sure that Raff was the most crazy of all.
"Yes—a person—a—ahem!—a friend. We thought him dead. I hope it is the same man. In England, did you say?"
"Yes, Birmingham," answered Peter; "it must be Birmingham in England."
"I know the man," said Ben, addressing Lambert. "His factory is not four miles from our place—a queer fellow—still as an oyster—don't seem at all like an Englishman. I've often seen him—a solemn-looking chap, with magnificent eyes. He made a beautiful writing-case once for me to give Jenny on her birthday—makes pocketbooks, telescope-cases, and all kinds of leather work."
As this was said in English, Van Mounen of course translated it for the benefit of all concerned, noticing meanwhile that neither Raff nor his vrouw looked very miserable though Raff was trembling, and the dame's eyes were swimming with tears.
You may believe the doctor heard every word of the story, when later in the evening he came driving back with Hans. "The three young gentlemen had been gone sometime," Dame Brinker said, "but like enough, by hurrying, it would be easy to find them coming out from the Lecture, wherever that was."
"True," said Raff, nodding his head, "the vrouw always hits upon the right thing. It would be well to see the young English gentleman, mynheer, before he forgets all about Thomas Higgs—it's a slippery name, d'ye see?—one can't hold it safe a minute. It come upon me sudden and strong as a pile-driver, and my boy writ it down. Aye, mynheer, I'd haste to talk with the English lad; he's seen your son many a time—only to think on't!"