To be sure, his voice had trembled when he talked with her parents, and he had met his father's look with a bright kind of smile that would have suited a dragon-killer bringing the waters of perpetual youth to his king, but after all, he wasn't at all like the conquered hero in Annie's book. He did not say, lifting his arm toward heaven, "I hereby swear to be forever faithful to my home, my God, and my country!" which would have been only right and proper under the circumstances.
All things considered, Gretel was disappointed. Raff, however, was perfectly satisfied. The message was delivered. Dr. Boekman had his son safe and sound, and the poor lad had done nothing sinful after all, except in thinking that his father would have abandoned him for an accident. To be sure, the graceful stripling had become rather a heavy man. Raff had unconsciously hoped to clasp that same boyish hand again, but all things were changed to Raff, for that matter. So he pushed back every feeling but joy as he saw father and son sitting side by side at his hearthstone. Meantime, Hans was wholly occupied in the thought of Thomas Higgs's happiness in being able to be the meester's assistant again, and Dame Brinker was sighing softly to herself, wishing that the lad's mother were alive to see him--such a fine young gentleman as he was--and wondering how Dr.
Boekman could bear to see the silver watch getting so dull. He had worn it ever since Raff handed it over, that was evident.
What had he done with the gold one he used to wear?
The light was shining full upon Dr. Boekman's face. How contented he looked; how much younger and brighter than formerly.
The hard lines were quite melting away. He was laughing as he said to the father, "Am I not a happy man, Raff Brinker? My son will sell out his factory this month and open a warehouse in Amsterdam. I shall have all my spectacle cases for nothing."Hans started from his reverie. "A warehouse, mynheer! And will Thomas Higgs--I mean, is your son not to be your assistant again?"A shade passed over the meester's face, but he brightened with an effort as he replied, "Oh, no, Laurens has had quite enough of that. He wishes to be a merchant."Hans appeared so surprised and disappointed that his friend asked good-naturedly, "Why so silent, boy? Is it any disgrace to be a merchant?""N-not a disgrace, mynheer," stammered Hans, "but--""But what?""Why, the other calling is so much better," answered Hans, "so much nobler. I think, mynheer," he added with enthusiasm, "that to be a surgeon, to cure the sick and crippled, to save human life, to be able to do what you have done for my father, is the grandest thing on earth."The doctor was regarding him sternly. Hans felt rebuked. His cheeks were flushed; hot tears were gathering under his lashes.
"It is an ugly business, boy, this surgery," said the doctor, still frowning at Hans. "It requires great patience, self-denial, and perseverance.""I am sure that it does," cried Hans. "It calls for wisdom, too, and a reverence for God's work. Ah, mynheer, it may have its trials and drawbacks, but you do not mean what you say. It is great and noble, not ugly! Pardon me, mynheer. It is not for me to speak so boldly."Dr. Boekman was evidently displeased. He turned his back on the boy and conferred aside with Laurens. Meanwhile the dame scowled a terrible warning at Hans. These great people, she knew well enough, never like to hear poor folk speak up so pertly.
The meester turned around.
"How old are you, Hans Brinker?"
"Fifteen, mynheer," was the startled reply.
"Would you like to become a physician?"
"Yes, mynheer," answered Hans, quivering with excitement.
"Would you be willing, with your parents' consent, to devote yourself to study, to go to the university, and, in time, be a student in my office?""Yes, mynheer.""You would not grow restless, think you, and change your mind just as I had set my heart upon preparing you to be my successor?"Hans's eyes flashed.
"No, mynheer, I would not change."
"You may believe him there," cried the dame, who could remain quiet no longer. "Hans is like a rock when once he decides, and as for study, mynheer, the child has almost grown fast to his books of late. He can jumble off Latin already, like any priest!"The doctor smiled. "Well, Hans, I see nothing to prevent us from carrying out this plan, if your father agrees.""Ahem," said Raff, too proud of his boy to be very meek. "The fact is, mynheer, I prefer an active, out-of-door life, myself.
But if the lad's inclined to study for a meester, and he'd have the benefit of your good word to push him on in the world, it's all one to me. The money's all that's wanting, but it mightn't be long, with two strong pair of arms to earn it, before we--""Tut, tut!" interrupted the doctor. "If I take your right-hand man away, I must pay the cost, and glad enough will I be to do it. It will be like having TWO sons, eh, Laurens? One a merchant and the other a surgeon. I shall be the happiest man in Holland! Come to me in the morning, Hans, and we will arrange matters at once."Hans bowed assent. He dared not trust himself to speak.
"And, Brinker," continued the doctor, "my son Laurens will need a trusty, ready man like you, when he opens his warehouse in Amsterdam, someone to oversee matters, and see that the lazy clowns round about the place do their duty. Someone to--Why don't you tell him yourself, you rascal!"This last was addressed to the son and did not sound half as fierce as it looks in print. The rascal and Raff soon understood each other perfectly.
