But the Councillor was by no means so satisfied with the position of affairs. He worked himself into a fury on seeing this treasonable patient installed in his home, and insisted on his immediate removal. Here, however, he was met by a resistance as decided as his own. For the first time in her life the gentle, quiet Agnes displayed an unyielding obstinacy, refusing absolutely to obey her father in this matter; and as that determined person, Frau Christine, declared herself on the side of her young mistress, Moser was out-voted and vanquished. He was given to understand that a man so dangerously ill could not be moved without risk to his life, and that he who turned him out of doors would incur the guilt of manslaughter; and the Councillor at length seemed to grasp the truth of this reasoning, but it did not lessen his despair. Early the next morning he rushed over to his chief to communicate the dreadful tidings, and to protest in the most solemn manner against any supposition of complicity on his part; but, in lieu of the hoped-for decree which should free him from the presence of his unwelcome guest, he was advised to acquiesce in and sanction his daughter's proceedings, of which the Baron himself seemed thoroughly to approve. Raven promised to shield the Councillor from any doubts on the score of his loyalty, and even declared that he would send round his own physician to the patient. It was incumbent on them, he said, to show all interest in the young doctor, who had behaved with so much courage and proper feeling. The Councillor was fain to submit to this high authority, but he did so with a heavy heart. He could not forgive his daughter for allowing herself thus to be led into extremes by her charitable sentiments and her pity for her suffering fellow-creatures; and though he was powerless to alter the accomplished fact, he viewed it every day with increasing abhorrence and indignation.
On the third morning after Max Brunnow's accident, the doctor who was attending him called to pay his usual professional visit. He was a small, spare man, with flaxen hair, mild-looking eyes, and a very gentle voice. On coming in, he met the master of the house, who was on the point of leaving for his office, and a short conference took place between the two gentlemen.
"No, Councillor, I have little, I may say no, hope of saving our patient. He is in a bad way--a very bad way. We must hold ourselves prepared for the worst."
"You have not seen him to-day," said the Councillor. "My daughter tells me he has passed a very quiet night."
The little doctor shrugged his shoulders.
"Ah, weakness--coma! There was great loss of blood, and after the violent traumatic fever, extreme exhaustion was sure to follow. I tell you, in my opinion, he will not rally."
"I am sorry to hear it," said the Councillor. Before the dread shadow of Death his rancour yielded, and compassion gained the upper hand. "And my daughter will be sorry too. She has taken all the nursing on herself, and has zealously kept watch by the sick-bed. I fear, indeed, that Agnes is overtaxing her strength, for I have never seen her look so pale. I had really to insist this morning--to compel her to go and take some rest after sitting up all night."
"Yes, Fräulein Moser is an admirable nurse. She has all the zeal and devotion necessary for her future vocation, and I am persuaded that her life will be fruitful of blessing to others. In this case, however, her exertions will soon be at an end. I fear the poor fellow's hours are numbered. He will hardly last through the day."
With a melancholy shake of the head, he took his leave, and went off to see his patient. The Councillor remained behind, looking very blank and melancholy also, but from quite another cause. A fresh trouble was coming on him. There was to be a death in the house now, after these two long days of care and anxiety. And how shocking it would be to see in the papers: "The son of that Dr. Brunnow, whose name is notorious in connection with the late revolution, died on such a day in R----, at the house of Councillor Moser. His death was occasioned by injuries received in a street riot." Those wretched papers always made these announcements in a dry, matter-of-fact manner, without a word of explanation or amplification. The Councillor cast an appealing glance to Heaven. He, the most dutiful, the most conscientious of officials, to be exposed to such a fate! His head drooped dolefully over his white neckcloth as he at length set out on his way to the Chancellery.
Meanwhile the physician had betaken himself to the sick-room. He entered with the cautious, noiseless step with which it seems natural to approach the dying. Frau Christine, who had relieved her young mistress for a short time, sat by the bedside. The doctor exchanged a few words with her in a whisper, and then sent her to fetch fresh compresses. Going up to the bed, he bent over the patient, who suddenly awoke and opened his eyes, apparently in possession of full consciousness.