"Oh, mother," cried he joyfully, "what a good sleep you have had; you have been asleep seven whole hours!"
"Yes, I have slept soundly," answered she, "and find myself greatly strengthened. But what has become of Agnes?"
"I let her go with dame Margaret to the Christmas fair; it is almost time for her to come back."
"Ah! it grieves me to the heart," sighed his mother, "that I cannot give you both a little Christmas gift, as I used to do."
"Don't be distressed on that account, dear mother," said Ernest, soothingly; "you are out of danger, and that is the most beautiful and best Christmas gift that could be bestowed on us. But the Christ-child has not forgotten us," and he handed his mother the bottle of wine and the biscuit.
"Where in all the world did this come from?" asked his astonished mother.
Ernest now related how he had sold the Bible to the antiquary (whose unkind treatment he concealed from his mother lest it should disturb her) for three florins, and how he had called on the apothecary, who had so hospitably received him, so kindly remembered his mother and little sister, and had promised not only a larger credit, but every kind of aid.
His mother could not find words to praise and thank their benefactor.
When Ernest wrapped up the biscuit again as his mother directed, he remarked upon the cover the hand-writing and name of the apothecary, and had the curiosity to open the whole paper.
Who can describe his surprise and emotion when he found the wrapper was a receipt in full, signed by the apothecary, for the eight florins and thirty pence due to him for medicines delivered.