Several uneventful days followed. My life at Nideck was becoming dull
and monotonous. Every morning there was the doleful bugle-call of the
huntsman, whose occupation was gone; then came a visit to the count;
after that breakfast, with Sperver's interminable speculations upon the
Black Plague, the incessant gossiping and chattering of Marie Lagoutte,
Maître Tobias, and all that pack of idle servants, who had nothing to do
but eat and drink, smoke, and go to sleep. The only man who had any kind
of individual existence was Knapwurst, who sat buried up to the tip of
his red nose in old chronicles all the day long, careless of the cold so
long as there was anything left to find out in his curious researches.
My weariness of all this may easily be imagined. Ten times had Sperver
taken me over the stables and the kennels; the dogs were beginning to
know me. I knew by heart all the coarse pleasantries of the major-domo
over his bottles and Marie Lagoutte's invariable replies. Sébalt's
melancholy was infecting me; I would gladly have blown a little on his
horn to tell the mountains of my _ennui_, and my eyes were incessantly
directed towards Fribourg.
Still the disorder of Yeri-Hans, lord of Nideck, was taking its usual
course, and this gave my only occupation any serious interest. All the
particulars which Sperver had made me acquainted with appeared clearly
before me; sometimes the count, waking up with a start, would half rise,
and supported on his elbow, with neck outstretched and haggard eyes,
would mutter, "She is coming, she is coming!"
Then Gideon would shake his head and ascend the signal-tower, but neither
right nor left could the Black Plague be discovered.
After long reflection upon this strange malady I had come to the
conclusion that the sufferer was insane. The strange influence that the
old hag exercised over him, his alternate phases of madness and lucidity,
all confirmed me in this view.
Medical men who have given especial attention to the subject of mental
aberrations are well aware that periodical madness is of not unfrequent
occurrence. In some cases the illness appears several times in the year,
in others at only particular seasons of the year. I know at Fribourg an
old lady who for thirty years past has regularly presented herself at the
door of the asylum. At her own request they place her in confinement;
then the unhappy woman every night passes through the terrible scenes of
the French Revolution, of which she was a witness in her youth. She
trembles in the hands of the executioner; she fancies herself drenched
with the blood of the victims; she weeps and cries aloud incessantly. In
the course of a few weeks the mind returns to its wonted seat, and she is
restored to liberty with the full expectation that she will return again
in a year.
"The Count of Nideck is suffering from a similar attack," I said;
"unknown chains unite his fate with that of the Black Plague. Who can
tell?" thought I; "that woman once was young, perhaps beautiful!"
And my imagination, once launched, carried me into the interesting
regions of romance; but I was careful to tell no one what I thought. If I
had opened out those conjectures to Sperver he would never have forgiven
me for imagining that there could have been any intimacy between his
master and the Black Plague; and as for Mademoiselle Odile, I dared not
suggest insanity to her.
The poor young lady was evidently most unhappy. Her refusal to marry had
so embittered the count against her that he could scarcely endure to have
her in his presence. He bitterly reproached her with her ingratitude and
disobedience, and expatiated upon the cruelty of ungrateful children.
Sometimes even violent curses followed his daughter's visits. Things at
last were so bad that I thought myself obliged to interfere. I therefore
waited one evening on the countess in the antechamber and entreated her
to relinquish her personal attendance upon her father. But here arose,
contrary to all expectations, quite an unforeseen obstacle. In spite of
all my entreaties she steadily insisted on watching by her father and
nursing him as she had done hitherto.
"It is my duty," she repeated, "and no arguments will shake my purpose,"
she said firmly.
"Madam," I replied as a last effort, "the medical profession, too, has
its duties, and an honourable man must fulfil them even to harshness and
cruelty; your presence is killing your father."
I shall remember all my life the sudden change in the expression of the
face of Odile.
My solemn words of warning seemed to cause the blood to flow back to the
heart; her face became white as marble, and her large blue eyes, fixed
steadily upon mine, seemed to read into the most secret recesses of my
soul.
"Is that possible, sir?" she stammered; "upon your honour, do you declare
this? Tell me truly!"
"Yes, madam, upon my honour."
There was a long and painful silence, only broken at last by these words
in a low voice:--
"Let God's will be done!"
And with downcast eyes she withdrew.
The day after this scene, about eight in the morning, I was pacing up and
down in Hugh Lupus's tower, thinking of the count's illness, of which I
could not foretell the issue--and I was thinking too of my patients at
Fribourg, whom I might lose by too prolonged an absence--when three
discreet taps upon my door turned my thoughts into another channel.
"Come in!"
The door opened, and Marie Lagoutte stood within, dropping me a low
curtsey.
This old dame's visit put me out, and I was going to beg her to postpone
her visit, when something mysterious in her countenance caught my
attention. She had thrown over her shoulders a red-and-green shawl;
she was biting her lips, with her head down, and as soon as she had
closed the door she opened it again, and peeped out, to make sure that
no one had followed her.
"What does she want with me?" I thought; "what is the meaning of all
these precautions?"
And I was quite puzzled.
"Monsieur le Docteur," said the worthy lady, advancing towards me, "I beg
your pardon for disturbing you so early in the morning, but I have a very
serious thing to tell you."
"Pray tell me all about it, then."
"It is the count."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, sir; you know that I sat up with him last night."
"I know. Pray sit down."
She sat before me in a great arm-chair, and I could not help noticing the
energetic character of her head, which on the evening of my arrival at
the castle had only seemed to me grotesque.
"Doctor," she resumed after a short pause and with her dark eyes upon me,
"you know I am not timid or easily frightened. I have seen so many
dreadful things in the course of my life that I am astonished at nothing
now. When you have seen Marengo, Austerlitz, and Moscow, there is nothing
left that can put you out."
"I am sure of that, ma'am."
"I don't want to boast; that is not my reason for telling you this; but
it is to show you that I am not an escaped lunatic, and that you may
believe me when I tell you what I say I have seen."
This was becoming interesting.
"Well," the good woman resumed, "last night, between nine and ten, just
as I was going to bed, Offenloch came in and said to me, 'Marie, you will
have to sit up with the count to-night.' At first I felt surprised.
'What! is not mademoiselle going to sit up?' 'No, mademoiselle is poorly,
and you will have to take her place.' Poor girl, she is ill; I knew that
would be the end of it, I told her so a hundred times; but it is always
so. Young people won't believe those who are older; and then, it is her
Father. So I took my knitting, said good night to Tobias, and went into
monseigneur's room. Sperver was there waiting for me, and went to bed; so
there I was, all alone."
Here the good woman stopped a moment, indulged in a pinch of snuff, and
tried to arrange her thoughts. I listened with eager attention for what
was coming.
"About half-past ten," she went on, "I was sitting near the bed, and from
time to time drew the curtain to see what the count was doing; he made no
movement; he was sleeping as quietly as a child. It was all right until
eleven o'clock, then I began to feel tired. An old woman, sir, cannot
help herself--she must drop off to sleep in spite of everything. I did
not think anything was going to happen, and I said to myself, 'He is sure
to sleep till daylight.' About twelve the wind went down; the big windows
had been rattling, but now they were quiet. I got up to see if anything
was stirring outside. It was all as black as ink; so I came back to my
arm-chair. I took another look at the patient; I saw that he had not
stirred an inch, and I took up my knitting; but in a few minutes more I
began nodding, nodding, and I dropped right off to sleep. I could not
help it, the arm-chair was so soft and the room was so warm, who could
have helped it? I had been asleep an hour, I suppose, when a sharp
current of wind woke me up. I opened my eyes, and what do you think I
saw? The tall middle window was wide open, the curtains were drawn, and
there in the opening stood the count in his white night-dress, right on
the window-sill."
"The count?"
"Yes."
"Nay, it is impossible; he cannot move!"
"So I thought too; but that is just how I saw him. He was standing with
a torch in his hand; the night was so dark and the air so still that the
flame stood up quite straight."
I gazed upon Marie Anne with astonishment.
"First of all," she said, after a moment's silence, "to see that long,
thin man standing there with his bare legs, I can assure you it had such
an effect upon me! I wanted to scream; but then I thought, 'Perhaps he is
walking in his sleep; if I shout he will wake up, he will jump down, and
then--' So I did not say a word, but I stared and stared till I saw him
lift up his torch in the air over his head, then he lowered it, then up
again and down again, and he did this three times, just like a man making
signals; then he threw it down upon the ramparts, shut the window, drew
the curtains, passed before me without speaking, and got into bed
muttering some words I could not make out."
"Are you sure you saw all that, ma'am?"
"Quite sure."
"Well, it is strange."
"I know it is; but it is true. Ah! it did astonish me at first, and then
when I saw him get into bed again and cross his hands over his breast
just as if nothing had happened, I said to myself, 'Marie Anne, you have
had a bad dream; it cannot be true;' and so I went to the window, and
there I saw the torch still burning; it had fallen into a bush near the
third gate, and there it was shining just like a spark of fire. There was
no denying it."
Marie Lagoutte looked at me a few moments without speaking.
"You may be sure, doctor, that after that I had no more sleep; I sat
watching and ready for anything. Every moment I fancied I could hear
something behind the arm-chair. I was not afraid--it was not that--but
I was uneasy and restless. When morning came, very early I ran and woke
Offenloch and sent him to the count. Passing down the corridor I noticed
that there was no torch in the first ring, and I came down and found it
near the narrow path to the Schwartzwald; there it is!"
And the good woman took from under her apron the end of a torch, which
she threw upon the table.
I was confounded.
How had that man, whom I had seen the night before feeble and exhausted,
been able to rise, walk, lift up and close down that heavy window? What
was the meaning of that signal by night? I seemed to myself to witness
this strange, mysterious scene, and my thoughts went off at once to the
Black Plague. When I aroused myself from this contemplation of my own
thoughts, I saw Marie Lagoutte rising and preparing to go.
"You have done quite right," I said as I took her to the door, "to tell
me of these things, and I am much obliged to you. Have you told any one
else of this adventure?"
"No one, sir; such things are only to be told to the priest and the
doctor."
"Come, I see you are a very wise, sensible woman."
These words were exchanged at the door of my tower. At this moment
Sperver appeared at the end of the gallery, followed by his friend
Sébalt.
"Fritz!" he shouted, "I have got news to tell you."
"Oh, come!" thought I, "more news! This is a strange condition of
things."
Marie Lagoutte had disappeared, and the huntsman and his friend entered
the tower.