And when Johannes implored that they might only look upon the face of their friend, to know if he was still alive, it availed nothing. Their acquaintance with Dr. Cijfer or with Professor Bommeldoos had no influence here. There was no disposition to be indulgent. The feeling of hostility toward his Brother was general, and permeated the humane, scientific atmosphere of the hospital to such an extent that Johannes also was received more coldly because he appeared to be a relative of this man. For not even doctors and nurses are exempt from the suspicion of being sensitive to the opinions of others.
The strain of their sorrow was so great that Johannes and Marjon each feared lest the other would be ill—they ate so little and looked so worn, and their cheeks, although never very round and blooming, grew so pale and sunken.
At last—at last, they might go, for their third call, and join the stream of callers on Wednesday afternoon, from two o'clock until four. Marjon carried some white and purple asters; Johannes, a bunch of grapes bought with money carefully saved, cent by cent.
Entering the ward, they looked in great anxiety over the two long rows of beds. They searched for the face they knew so well, but did not find it. Timidly, they made inquiry of the nurse who sat writing, in the middle of the ward, at a little table covered with bandages and remedies. Without replying, she pointed to a bed. Then they saw the dark eyes, turned toward them with a kind smile.
They had not recognized him, for his beard was gone, his head enveloped with wrappings, and his face covered with plasters.
He beckoned them, and extended his emaciated white hand. They flew to him.
Two young men stood beside his bed. They were students. One of them, who seemed to have just made an examination of Markus, was rather gross in appearance, and had a flushed, uneasy face. The perspiration stood in drops on his forehead. The other stood by, indifferently, his hands in his pockets.
"Have you got at it?" asked the latter.
"Confound it, no," replied the other, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "It's a thundering complicated case. There's a fracture of the skull; but the paralysis I can't account for. It's a mean trick of Snijman's to pick out such a business for me, just to pester me. I'll be sure to fail in the examination.
"Come, come, old fellow, you're in a pet. It's a pretty little chance for you—one to brag about. Come to-night to the quiz, and go through the brain anatomy again with me. Bring your Henle along. I'll give you such a lift you'll astonish them, old man. But we must be off now, for it's visiting-day."