nearly bursting with pain, and when I close my eyes the harsh hammering
sound of that wooden instrument, which surely has received the name of
"divine" in derision, rushes wildly into my ears, and I feel feverish
and exhausted from the heat and oppressive air of the room.
The 11th January.
A fortnight of sickness and suffering, during which I did not open a
book or play a note on the piano--It was only a slight influenza, sleep
and diet have pulled me through--though one night when the fever
tormented me with horrible visions, I was on the point of calling in a
doctor, as my landlady constantly urged me to do. The people here have
great faith in medicines. I am glad that I can now again stand on my
feet, and owe it to no one but myself. I will venture on my first walk
to-day. The air is cold, but still, and the sun is so powerful that I
can boldly open my casement. I long to hear something about Morrik; but
whom can I ask.
The same day.
My presentiment was right; the visions in my feverish dreams spoke the
truth. He is seriously ill with typhus fever. He has been laid up ever
since that concert and sometimes the fever is so bad that he lies
unconscious for hours. I met his doctor just at the gate of the town,
and mustered courage to ask him for news of Morrik; and what good would
restraint do me; it would only be ridiculous for does not everyone
already know that I led him out of the concert-room, and across the
streets and is not my show of interest very innocent, though
unfortunately it may seem improper. The doctor looked very grave and I
should have liked to detain him, and extract from him a decided answer
to my question as to whether there was any immediate danger, but just
then one of his patients accosted him, and our conversation was broken
off. With what feelings I sat down on the sunny bench, and gazed at the
water, watching the logs of wood floating down the stream, and swept
away by the force of the current every time they tried to cling to a
stone. And is it not so with us poor human creatures; do we not float
down the stream of life! and are the happy moments we enjoy anything
better than a short rest on a cliff from which we are severed by the
first passing wave.--Oh, come peace, come! My heart will break with its
stormy throbbing. How shall I be able every morning to endure the pain
of imagining him dying, and of not being able to watch for his every
breath! Oh heavens! and has it come to this, that I must see him leave
this world before me; I who never dreamt of such a possibility.
January, the 12th--Evening.
At last I have gained my point; and the calm I now feel amply
compensates me for the struggle I have had to endure. I have just come
from his lodgings where I have passed the day with him, and shall do so
again to-morrow, and all the days that are yet granted to him.
How I passed this night, God to whom I prayed in my calmer moments
alone knows. In those dark hours, when sorrow and hopelessness took
away all feeling of _His_ presence, and of my own strength, life, time,
eternity whirled about in my giddy brain just like the helpless logs of
wood tossed by the waves.
In the morning I begged the landlady to go to his lodgings and enquire
how he had passed the night. She told me that a stout elderly lady with
fair ringlets had opened the door of Mr. Morrik's sitting-room--He lay
in the adjoining room and talked so loud in his fever that one could
hear him distinctly from the outside. The lady asked who had sent her,
and on hearing who it was, had made a wry face, and sent her away with
the information that there was no change.
This was a terrible blow to me. I knew what he thought of the
professional philanthropy of the life preserver, and that he had always
purposely avoided her. And now there was she listening to his feverish
talk, and plaguing him with her officiousness in his lucid intervals. I
could not bear the thought.
It was early in the morning when I ascended the stairs of his lodgings,
fully determined not to let any consideration, except what was
necessary for his welfare and tranquillity, prevail over me. My courage
only deserted me for a moment when on knocking at the door a shrill
hard voice called out, "Come in." All my coolness and presence of mind
returned however, when I felt the cold lustreless eyes resting on me,
with a severe rebuking expression; and with a quiet voice I said that I
had come myself to have news of him, as the information of my landlady
did not suffice me. Before she had time to answer Morrik called out my
name from the inner room. "I will go myself," I said, "and ask the
sufferer how he feels. He seems to have recovered his senses."
"Mr. Morrik receives no one," she said, "and your visit would be
against all propriety, a reason, to be sure, which is of little
importance to you?" "At the death-bed of a friend, certainly not," I
replied. He called a second time "Marie;" so opening the folding that
led to his bedroom, I entered without a moment's hesitation.
The small room looked dark, as the only window opened on the narrow,
gloomy street, and was partly covered by a curtain; still it was light
enough for me to see that his pale face was brightened by a ray of
pleasure when I entered. He stretched out his hot hand, and tried to
lift his head. "You have come!" he whispered, "I cannot tell you how
your presence relieves me. Do not go away again, Marie, I cannot spare
you, my time is so short. The lady out there, you know whom I mean, her
very voice pains me; her presence seems like a nightmare to me, but I
cannot bring myself to tell her so. I tried to hint to her that I
preferred remaining alone, but she answered that: patients were not
allowed to have a will of their own. Please remain with me, when you
are here I shall see and hear no one but you, and I promise never to
annoy you again."
He talked on in this strain in so low and hurried a voice, that the
tears sprang to my eyes. I pressed his hand warmly and promised to do
all he wished. His face brightened in a moment. Then he lay quite still
and closed his eyes, so that I believed him to be asleep but when I
tried to draw away my hand, he glanced at me with a sad and pleading
look. At the end of half an hour, he really slept. I returned again to
the sitting-room where the lady sat on the sofa. She was knitting in
great wrath, and the poor meshes had to suffer for my offence. I
perceived that there was no time to be lost, so I told her with as much
consideration for her feelings as I could, that the patient was very
grateful to her for her kindness, but that he would not trouble her any
longer as I was going to nurse him with the help of his servant and of
the people who lodged him. "_You_, my dear?" she slowly asked, casting
an annihilating look at me.
"Certainly," I replied quietly; "among all the visitors here I am the
nearest acquaintance Mr. Morrik has, and so we should both think it
strange if I left the duty of nursing him to an entire stranger, who
moreover has so many other charitable duties to fulfil."
She stared at me as though my mind were wandering.
"Is it possible," she at last said, "that you do not feel, that by this
step you will for ever ruin your already so much damaged reputation.
Are you related to him? Are you an old woman, who is above suspicion;
or are you in need of a nurse for yourself, my dear?"
"I am perfectly aware of what I can do, and what I can answer for," I
said, "I regret that our opinions on the subject differ, but I cannot
change mine. I shall remain here; and certainly I cannot hinder you
from doing the same. Do not be uneasy about my reputation; I believe I
told you once before that I have closed with this world, and submitting
the case to a higher judge, I hope to be acquitted." She arose, took
her bonnet and said: "You will not expect me to remain in the same room
with a young lady whose moral principles so widely differ from mine,
and to sanction by my presence an intimacy which in every respect I
hold to be most reprehensible. Nothing remains for me but to hear from
the patient's own lips whether he desires my departure. If the doctor
should sanction this continual emotion for a patient suffering from
typhus fever, it is no business of mine."
With these words, she moved towards the folding doors, but I quietly
stopped her and said: "Mr. Morrik sleeps, so I beg of you not to
disturb him; and from this sleep you may gain the tranquillizing
assurance, that my presence is rather beneficial to him than
otherwise."
After these words we only exchanged a silent and formal curtsey, the
door closed on the deeply offended lady and a load fell from my heart.
I opened the door of the balcony which also leads into the garden, to
let out the odour of acetic ether which the lady without nerves had
brought here too. Then I looked round my new domain, and it pleased me
much. What a difference between this elegant, handsomely furnished, and
lofty apartment, and my own small room with its scanty furniture. Here,
his writing-table loaded with all the luxury of portfolios, inkstands,
and different trinkets; there, the shelves with his finely bound books;
the comfortable arm-chair, and above all the pleasure of breathing the
fresh air merely by stepping out on the balcony shaded by awnings from
whence a few steps lead into the garden. How sunny, sheltered, and
secluded it looked down there; only the splash of the fountain was
heard, and the lullaby song of a nurse who sat on a bench with a pretty
baby in her arms.
I was so charmed with the peace of this abode that I actually forgot
who was lying in the next room in a feverish slumber. I was shocked at
having been led for a moment into this obliviousness. I stepped to the
door and listened. He called "Marie" in a low voice. When I looked in,
he said: "I heard all; you are my guardian angel; I owe you the first
refreshing slumber I have had for a fortnight."--"Sleep on," I replied,
"you are not to speak. Cheer up, and dream pleasantly." He nodded
faintly, and again closed his eyes.
In the afternoon the doctor came. Him, at least, I must exempt from the
accusation I recently brought against all doctors; that of being bad
physicians for the soul. When I told him why I had remained, he smiled.
Has Morrik spoken to him of me? I do not think so. But what pleased him
more even than the departure of the life preserver, whose beneficial
influence on the nerves, he evidently doubts, was the fact that Morrik
had slept for three hours and that his pulse was calmer.
When I accompanied him to the door, and ventured to ask him what he
thought would be the end of this illness, he shrugged his shoulders.
"The danger has not yet passed," was all he said. I had thought so.
At seven o'clock I walked home; the servant watches by him during the
night. He slept when I went away, and did not even feel my hand when I
touched his before leaving. I will sleep now; I want to be at my post
early in the morning. For a long time I have not felt so peaceful and
calm as this evening. Now nothing can again estrange us.
The 13th.
He woke in the night, and immediately asked for me. The servant could
hardly quiet him with the assurance that I would certainly return in
the morning. I found him much agitated; only after a long explanation,
in which he followed me with difficulty, did I succeed in convincing
him, that it must be so, that it was necessary that the day and night
watches should be relieved. "But if I should die in the night?" he
asked. "Then you will send for me, and I will come to you instantly."
When I had promised this, he went to sleep again. He does not eat a
morsel and his hands are fearfully thin.
I am more convinced than ever that my presence tranquillizes him. The
afternoon passed very quietly. We did not speak to each other, but the
door between the two rooms was left open, so that he could see the
light of my lamp, and watch my shadow on the wall; he had expressly
desired this.
I read for a long time, and listened to his breathing. No other sound
reached me. Only when I had to give him his medicines I went to him.
Then he always had some gay and affectionate words to say to me, but
without any tone of passion in them.
"She is a fairy," he said to the doctor, "she makes even death appear a
festival to me. Formerly, doctor, I always felt inclined to say to you:
'That thou doest, do quickly.' But now it is of great moment to me that
you should prolong my life for a few days. I can never have enough,
even of your horrid potions, now that a good spirit gives them to me."
The 15th.
Yesterday I could not write. He was much worse. To-day he is, at least,
not worse still; what a sad consolation! The hard frost continues. The
fountain in the garden is covered with ice, and not a flake of snow to
soften the piercing air, and to relieve the chest. I long for snow, for
I am convinced that he will not be better till the air softens. To-day
I stood for hours at his bedside, and he did not recognize me. In his
delirium, he talked of people and countries unknown to me, and then I
saw how little we really know of each other; and yet a moment later
when he called me by name, I felt how near and dear I was to him, and
that we do know of each other our best feelings and thoughts. All that
is really worth knowing.
The 19th January, 5 o'clock in the morning.
I have just come home after four and twenty sleepless hours, and yet I
feel that no sleep is possible for me till my feelings are more calm
and collected, and I have expressed them in these leaves. I feel like
one who has been blind, and who struck by the first ray of light, is
made aware of his happiness by a dazzling pain. I will try to speak
connectedly, though what is the meaning of beginning, middle, end--what
is the significance of these words, when eternity has mingled with
time; when dying, one awakens to a new life, which is subject to time,
yet still bears the impress of eternity.
These are but weak and unconnected words, and I wished to speak
clearly.
The days which have passed since I last wrote have been so sad that I
could not speak of them. Yesterday evening when the doctor came quite
late, I had sent for him as my anxiety increased every hour, he did not
conceal his fears. "We must bring on a crisis," he said, "or he is
lost." They put him in a tepid bath and dashed cold water over him.
This excited him to such a degree that even through the closed doors, I
heard his groans and his loud and unintelligible exclamations. When he
had been again laid in his bed the doctor came to me. "I will remain
with him during the night," said the excellent man; "any blunder about
applications of ice might be of fatal consequence. You must go home and
rest, the day has been too fatiguing for you." I told him that even at
home I should find no rest, and would rather remain and watch with him.
He did not press me further as he saw that I was quite decided. Had I
not given my promise to Morrik that I would not be absent when his end
was approaching. So I sat down in an arm-chair at his writing-table and
took up a book only for the sake of holding on to something--to read
was impossible; for that a clear mind is required, and mine was clouded
over with a dark shadow, and all my attention was rivetted on the
sick-room where the doctor sat by his bed changing the compresses
himself, and only now and then giving the servant some order in a low
voice. The moans and the rambling indistinct words which broke from
those feverish lips cut me to the heart; this is still his voice I
thought, and these are, perhaps, the last words that he will ever speak
to me. I cannot understand their meaning, nor does he himself. Oh, what
a leave taking!
I will not dwell on this scene; the remembrance, even, of that dreadful
time makes me shudder. We heard the hours strike from the church-tower;
ten, eleven o'clock, midnight.--In the next room stillness now
prevailed. I kept in my breath and listened anxiously, questioning
myself if this were a good or a bad sign. I tried to rise and creep to
the door to hear if he yet breathed, but I found that the agony of the
last hours had nearly paralyzed me, and I could not move. Or was it
only that I could not muster courage and nerve myself sufficiently to
face the dreadful certainty.
Strange! I had thought myself quite familiarized with death, even if it
should approach the bedside of my dearest friend. And now, instead of
calmly facing it, I shivered with fear like a child in the dark.
I know not if I could have endured these feelings much longer without
fainting, especially as I had not swallowed a morsel the whole of that
day. At last, just as my strength was giving way the bedroom door
opened, and the doctor came out quietly. "He is saved."
The shock these words gave me was so great that I burst into a fit of
hysterical tears. The doctor sat down opposite me and said: "You weep,
Mademoiselle, and perhaps the word 'saved,' seems to you only as a
bitter mockery, when coupled with the name of a patient whose life was
despaired of before this last illness seized him. But it is just on
this illness that I found my hope of saving him. Nature has risked a
bold experiment and has succeeded. It is not the first time that I have
observed her employ this admirable device by which she first kindles a
conflict in the nervous and blood systems; and then summoning the last
vital powers, she combines all her forces to drive away the enemy who
had taken entire possession of the citadel. Now you will see that our
friend, if his convalescence after this fever proceeds without any
disturbance, will make rapid progress towards the full recovery of his
former health, which was once with reason despaired of. Now I can
safely send him to Venice in March, without any fear of his catching
the typhus there, as this fever seldom seizes the same person twice.
The soft sea air will be most beneficial to his lungs; and though I
never meddle with prophecies, I can say, almost with certainty, that
in this case--taking it for granted that no outward disturbance
occurs--our patient will in less than a year be as strong and healthy
as ever."
A slight noise in the inner room, called the doctor again to his post.
He stayed away only a few minutes, but at least I had time to become
more collected before he returned. Can I acknowledge even to myself
that this great revolution in all my ideas startled me more than it
pleased me? So he was to live, and I firmly believing that he was to
follow me into another world had as fully taken possession of his soul
as if it were written that we should only be separated for a short
time, and would part with the mutual wish of: A happy death to you!
instead of a happy life to you!
Fortunately this selfish regret only lasted till the doctor returned,
and I could say with a heart full of pure joy and gratitude, Thank God,
he will live! He will once more enjoy his youth, his strength, his
plans, and his hopes! When the doctor was again beside me he said,
"They are both asleep: both master and servant. I settled the poor
fellow, who certainly has been greatly fatigued, more comfortably in
his armchair and he did not awake. It seems as if he knew that he is no
longer wanted, now that the crisis has passed, and nature herself has
taken charge of nursing the patient. I advise you to follow his example
Mademoiselle and to lie down on the sofa and go to sleep. I have kept a
cup of tea for myself and do not mind in the least remaining here till
morning, and will feast meantime on our friend's looks. I cannot let
you walk home in this cold winter night, you would by so doing risk all
the benefit you have obtained by your stay here." "Benefit!" I
exclaimed; "you must know that I have no illusions whatever with regard
to the state of my health. I am perfectly aware how little I have to
risk. If I have gained anything by my stay here it is only a reprieve
of a few days or weeks."
"Pardon me," he said with a smile, "if I do not share your opinion. To
be sure we professional men are often worse prophets than the
uninitiated. At least we are less confident."
As during the last few days I had written some letters at Morrik's
writing-table, I had brought with me the portfolio, in which I keep our
old doctor's drawing, I drew it from the portfolio, and handed it to
him. "Now you can convince yourself that I am only repeating the
prediction of one of your colleagues," and I told him how I had come to
Meran.
The drawing appeared to make some impression on him. He shook his head
after looking at it, and then said, "I generally examine the patient by
auscultation myself before I give any opinion. You say that you have
spent the winter without any medical assistance or advice, and perhaps
you were right in doing so, for truly our power is very limited. Far be
it from me to force my opinion on you, but it would interest me greatly
to discover whether your looks, your movements, your voice, and your
pulse are only deceiving, or whether this drawing is to be relied on.
Would you let me ascertain this?"
"I have no objection to it," I replied, "but you must permit me,
whatever the result may be, to have more faith in our old doctor than
in you."
After auscultating me, he sat down for about ten minutes in front of
me, and after taking a long draught of tea, he answered my question as
to whether the drawing was not right after all. "I will not venture any
opinion on that subject; all I can say is, that if your lungs really
were in that state, then the Meran climate has worked wonders. We have
had several cases here, in which the patients sent to us had been given
up and were supposed to be in a hopeless state, yet those very patients
are enjoying life to this day, to their own and their doctor's
astonishment. The time you have staid here is however much too short to
have operated such a marvellous recovery, and so I have my doubts about
this drawing. I would even venture to say, if the assertion be not too
bold, that you have never had any inclination to disease of the lungs,
but that your illness is simply caused by great exhaustion of the
nervous system. You say that your doctor is an old practitioner, but
auscultation is a recent discovery and if Hippocrates and Galen had to
speak on the subject they would certainly commit themselves deeply. You
look incredulous dear Mademoiselle. Next year we will again speak of
this, for it will be most beneficial to your nervous system, which is
in a very irritable state, if you spend another winter here and only
visit your relations during the summer."
Could he have assured me positively of all this and proved it by a
hundred scientific arguments it would have been in vain. I feel only
too well that it is impossible. We had a long dispute about it, and his
smilingly sarcastic tone, and confident manner made me at last lose all
patience, and I uttered all the invectives I had ever heard against his
profession, only exempting our dear old doctor from this sweeping
condemnation. It was rather curious to hear a patient quarreling with
his doctor for awarding life to him. But if life were again given back
to me, could I receive it thankfully as a blessing, would it not appear
only as a renewal of bondage after this short dream of freedom?
I could not rest till I had then and there in the presence of the
doctor written to my old friend and besought him to come to my rescue;
and save me from this return to life into which they wished to delude
me. The day had not yet dawned, when the doctor and I left the house.
Morrik's servant was now awake, and his master slept, to awaken to a
renewed life. The doctor insisted on my ordering a sedan chair; but I
refused decidedly, and went to post my letter myself. I then begged the
doctor not to mention what had passed between us to any one, and above
all not to Morrik till I had received an answer. He promised it, and
smilingly took leave of me, after seeing me to the door of my lodgings.
As I toiled up the steep stairs, I again felt convinced that ere long I
should ascend them for the last time.
The mountain tops are not yet red with the rising sun, the air is
foggy, and flakes of snow begin to fall. My room is comfortable and
warm, as the small stove does its duty. If I could but find sleep. This
mounting guard has been too heavy a service for the poor invalid. A
great battle has been won without him, and he himself has been deluded
with the hope of a victory the fruit of which he would not care to
enjoy.
January 30th.
Yesterday, I remained at home, as I had rashly promised the doctor not
to leave my room till he gave his consent. He said that the honour of
science was at stake, if I brought to naught the opinion he had
pronounced, by my reckless enterprizes. It is also necessary for our
friend he added.