She was sitting one
day knitting by her fireside, in great perplexity, when the sexton
entered with an air of unusual vivacity and briskness. He had just
come from a funeral. It had been that of a boy of Dolph's years, who
had been apprentice to a famous German doctor, and had died of a
consumption. It is true, there had been a whisper that the deceased
had been brought to his end by being made the subject of the doctor's
experiments, on which he was apt to try the effects of a new compound,
or a quieting draught. This, however, it is likely, was a mere
scandal; at any rate, Peter de Groodt did not think it worth
mentioning; though, had we time to philosophize, it would be a curious
matter for speculation, why a doctor's family is apt to be so lean and
cadaverous, and a butcher's so jolly and rubicund.
Peter de Groodt, as I said before, entered the house of Dame Heyliger,
with unusual alacrity. He was full of a bright idea that had popped
into his head at the funeral, and over which he had chuckled as he
shovelled the earth into the grave of the doctor's disciple. It had
occurred to him, that, as the situation of the deceased was vacant at
the doctor's, it would be the very place for Dolph.
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