'Rupture! rupture of the external... of the external covering.... You
understand.., the envelopes of the heart!' said Mr. Ratsch, directly the
door closed. 'Such a misfortune! Only yesterday evening there was
nothing to notice, and all of a sudden, all in a minute, all was over!
It's a true saying, "heute roth, morgen todt!" It's true; it's what was
to be expected. I always expected it. At Tambov the regimental doctor,
Galimbovsky, Vikenty Kasimirovitch.... you've probably heard of him... a
first-rate medical man, a specialist--'
'It's the first time I've heard the name,' I observed.
'Well, no matter; any way he was always,' pursued Mr. Ratsch, at first
in a low voice, and then louder and louder, and, to my surprise, with a
perceptible German accent, 'he was always warning me: "Ay, Ivan
Demianitch! ay! my dear boy, you must be careful! Your stepdaughter has
an organic defect in the heart--hypertrophia cordialis! The least thing
and there'll be trouble! She must avoid all exciting emotions above
all.... You must appeal to her reason."... But, upon my word, with a
young lady... can one appeal to reason? Ha... ha... ha...'
Mr. Ratsch was, through long habit, on the point of laughing, but he
recollected himself in time, and changed the incipient guffaw into a
cough.
And this was what Mr. Ratsch said! After all that I had found out about
him!... I thought it my duty, however, to ask him whether a doctor was
called in.
Mr. Ratsch positively bounced into the air.
'To be sure there was.... Two were summoned, but it was already
over--abgemacht! And only fancy, both, as though they were agreeing'
(Mr. Ratsch probably meant, as though they had agreed), 'rupture!
rupture of the heart! That's what, with one voice, they cried out. They
proposed a post-mortem; but I... you understand, did not consent to
that.'
'And the funeral's to-morrow?' I queried.
'Yes, yes, to-morrow, to-morrow we bury our dear one! The procession
will leave the house precisely at eleven o'clock in the morning.... From
here to the church of St. Nicholas on Hen's Legs... what strange names
your Russian churches do have, you know! Then to the last resting-place
in mother earth. You will come! We have not been long acquainted, but I
make bold to say, the amiability of your character and the elevation of
your sentiments!...'