“Yes, madame; the county physician.”
“Then he must be sent for.”
“I thought of that, but I did not like to venture to do so.”
“Why not?”
“Because the count has declared that he will shoot me if I attempt to bring a stranger into his room, or into madame’s. He told me I must never admit within the castle gate a doctor, a preacher, or a woman; and I should not think of disobeying him.”
“But now that he is so ill? and you say he may die? Merciful God! Ludwig die! It cannot—must not—happen!”
“But how will madame hinder it?”
“If you will not venture to fetch the doctor, then I will go myself.”
“Oh, madame! you must not even think of doing this!”
“I think of nothing else but that he is ill unto death. I am going, and you are coming with me.”
“Holy Father! The count will kill me if I do that.”
“And if you don’t do it you will kill the count.”
“That is true, too, madame.”
“Then don’t you do anything. I shall do what is necessary. I will put on my veil, and let no one see my face.”
“But in this storm? Just listen, madame, how it thunders.”
“I am not afraid of thunder, you stupid Henry. Light a lantern, and arm yourself with a stout cudgel, while I am putting on my pattens. If Ludwig should get angry, I shall be on hand to pacify him. If only the dear Lord will spare his life! Oh, hasten, hasten, my good Henry!”
“He will shoot me dead; I know it. But let him, in God’s name! I do it at your command, madame. If madame is really determined to go herself for the doctor, then we will take the carriage.”
“No, indeed! Ludwig would hear the sound of wheels, and know what we were doing. Then he would jump out of bed, run into the court, and take a cold that would certainly be his death. No; we must go on foot, as noiselessly as possible. It is not so very far to the village. Go now, and fetch the lantern.”
Several minutes afterward, the gates of the Nameless Castle opened, and there came forth a veiled lady, who clung with one hand to the arm of a tall man, and carried a lantern in the other. Her companion held over her, to protect her from the pouring rain, a large red umbrella, and steadied his steps in the slippery mud with a stout walking-stick. The lady walked so rapidly that her companion with difficulty kept pace with her.
CHAPTER IV
Dr. Tromfszky had just returned from a visum repertum in a criminal case, and had concluded that he would go to bed so soon as he had finished his supper. The rain fell in torrents on the roof, and rushed through the gutters with a roaring noise.
“Now just let any one send again for me this night!” he exclaimed, when his housekeeper came to remove the remnants of cheese from the supper-table. “I wouldn’t go—not if the primate himself got a fish-bone fast in his throat; no, not for a hundred ducats. I swear it!”
At that moment there came a knock at the street door, and a very peremptory one, too.
“There! didn’t I know some one would take it into his head to let the devil fetch him to-night? Go to the door, Zsuzsa, and tell them that I have a pain in my foot—that I have just applied a poultice, and can’t walk.”
Frau Zsuzsa, with the kitchen lamp in her hand, waddled into the corridor. After inquiring the second time through the door, “Who is it?” and the one outside had answered: “It is I,” she became convinced, from the musical feminine tone, that it was not the notorious robber, Satan Laczi, who was seeking admittance.
Then she opened the door a few inches, and said:
“The Herr Doctor can’t go out any more to-night; he has gone to bed, and is poulticing his foot.”
The door was open wide enough to admit a delicate feminine hand, which pressed into the housekeeper’s palm a little heap of money. By the light of the lamp Frau Zsuzsa recognized the shining silver coins, and the door was opened its full width.
When she saw before her the veiled lady she became quite complaisant. Curiosity is a powerful lever.
“I humbly beg your ladyship to enter.”
“Please tell the doctor the lady from the Nameless Castle wishes to see him.”
Frau Zsuzsa placed the lamp on the kitchen table, and left the visitors standing in the middle of the floor.
“Well, what were you talking about so long out yonder?” demanded the doctor, when she burst into his study.
“Make haste and put on your coat again; the veiled lady from the Nameless Castle is here.”
“What? Well, that is an event!” exclaimed the doctor, hurriedly thrusting his arms into the sleeves of his coat. “Is the count with her?”
“No; the groom accompanied her.”
These magic words, “the veiled lady,” had more influence on the doctor than any imaginable number of ducats.
At last he was to behold the mythological appearance—yes, and even hear her voice!
“Show her ladyship into the guest-chamber, and take a lamp in there,” he ordered, following quickly, after he had adjusted his cravat in front of the looking-glass.
Then she stood before him—the mysterious woman. Her face was veiled as usual. Behind her stood the groom, with whose appearance every child in the village was familiar.
“Herr Doctor,” stammered the young girl, so faintly that it was difficult to tell whether it was the voice of a child, a young or an old woman, “I beg that you will come with me at once to the castle; the gentleman is very seriously ill.”
“Certainly; I am delighted!—that is, I am not delighted to hear of the worshipful gentleman’s illness, but glad that I am fortunate enough to be of service to him. I shall be ready in a few moments.”
“Oh, pray make haste.”
“The carriage will take us to the castle in five minutes, your ladyship.”
“But we did not come in a carriage; we walked.”
Only now the doctor noticed that the lady’s gown was thickly spattered with mud.
“What? Came on foot in such weather—all the way from the Nameless Castle? and your ladyship has a carriage and horses?”
“Cannot you come with us on foot, Herr Doctor?”
“I should like very much to accompany your ladyship; but really, I have rheumatismus acutus in my foot, and were I to get wet I should certainly have an ischias.”
Marie lifted her clasped hands in despair to her lips, but the beseeching expression on her face was hidden by the heavy veil. Could the doctor have seen the tearful eyes, the trembling lips!
Seeing that her voiceless petition was in vain, Marie drew from her bosom a silken purse, and emptied the contents, gold, silver, and copper coins, on the table.
“Here,” she exclaimed proudly. “I have much more money like this, and will reward you richly if you will come with me.”
The doctor was amazed. There on the table lay more gold than the whole county could have mustered in these days of paper notes. Truly these people were not to be despised.
“If only it did not rain so heavily—”
“I will let you take my umbrella.”
“Thanks, your ladyship; I have one of my own.”
“Then let us start at once.”
“But my foot—it pains dreadfully.”
“We can easily arrange that. Henry, here, is a very strong man; he will take you on his shoulders, and bring you back from the castle in the carriage.”
There were no further objections to be offered when Henry, with great willingness, placed his broad shoulders at the doctor’s service.
The doctor hastily thrust what was necessary into a bag, locked the money Marie had given him in a drawer, bade Frau Zsuzsa remain awake until he returned, and clambered on Henry’s back. In one hand he held his umbrella, in the other the lantern; and thus the little company took their way to the castle—the “double man” in advance, the little maid following with her umbrella.