Hans looked up anxiously, dreading lest his mother should grow agitated, as usual, when speaking of the lost money, but she was silently nibbling her bread and looking with a doleful stare toward the window.
"Thousand guilders," echoed a faint voice from the bed. "Ah, I am sure they have been of good use to you, vrouw, through the long years when your man was idle."
The poor woman started up. These words quite destroyed the hope that of late had been glowing within her.
"Are you awake, Raff?" she faltered.
"Yes, Meitje, and I feel much better. Our money was well saved, vrouw, I was saying. Did it last through all those ten years?"
"I--I--have not got it, Raff, I--" She was going to tell him the whole truth when Hans lifted his finger warningly and whispered, "Remember what the meester told us. The father must not be worried."
"Speak to him, child," she answered, trembling.
"I am glad you are feeling better," he said, leaning over his father. "Another day will see you quite strong again."