"Down the street; the last house on the left."
Before that house a carriage was waiting. Lights shone from the open house-door and the open windows of the lower story.
"Is the doctor at home?"
"Here!" said Doctor Braun, from a window. "Where from?"
"From Grenwitz. It is I. Make haste--Bruno is dying."
"Was just coming," called Doctor Braun, already at the door. "Take a seat with me. I will drive myself. Charles can ride your horse back slowly. Are you in? Good. Now let us be off."
The carriage thundered through the dark streets, through the narrow gate, out into the silent moonlit night, which lay dreamily on fields and gardens, on meadows and forests, full of sweet fragrance. They went back the same way Oswald had come. The doctor's powerful horses trotted fast; in a few minutes they were on the heath.
Neither of them had said much. Oswald had told Doctor Braun of Bruno's complaint, like most laymen, dwelling on trifles and leaving out what was most important. Doctor Braun had asked a few brief questions. Then both had been silent for some time.
"You must be prepared for the worst," began Doctor Braun. "From what you tell me, I should not wonder if we found Bruno no longer alive."
Oswald made no reply. He uttered a groan, like a man under torture when the screws have had another turn.