"If you will permit me," said Goritz smiling calmly. "This lady is my wife. I am taking her to the north for the baths. As you observe, she is the subject of delusions——"
"It is not true," cried Marishka despairingly. "I beseech you to listen—to investigate——"
"I regret," said Goritz, with a glance at his watch, "that I have no time to delay. I am Lieutenant von Arnstorf of the Fifteenth Army Corps, bearing a safe conduct from General von Hoetzendorf, which all police officers of the Empire are constrained to respect. Read for yourself."
And he handed them the magic paper which already had done him such service. The men read it through with respect and not a little awe, bestowing at the last a pitying glance upon Marishka, which too well indicated their delicacy in interfering in the affairs of one in such authority.
"And you will not summon the mayor? What I tell is the truth. In the name of the Holy Virgin, I swear it."
One of the men crossed himself and turned away. Goritz had already laid his fingers firmly upon her arm and guided her toward the machine.
"Come, Anna," he said in a sober, soothing tone, "all will be well—all will be well."
And so Marishka, with one last despairing glance in the direction of the two officers, permitted herself to be handed into the machine by Captain Goritz who, before the automobile departed, handed a piece of money to the girl who had done Marishka this service. The last glimpse that Marishka had of the police officers showed them standing side by side, their fingers at their caps. Her case was hopeless. She had no friend, it seemed, in all Hungary, and she abandoned herself to the depths of her despair. How could she have expected to cope with such a man as this?
Goritz said nothing to her of warning or of reproach, but in the same afternoon, after drinking a cup of coffee which he urged upon her, she became drowsy and slept.
She awoke in a large room with walls of panelled wood, and a groined ceiling. She lay upon a huge bed, raised high above the floor, over the head of which was a faded yellow silken hanging. Her surroundings puzzled her, but she seemed to have no desire to learn the meaning of it all, lying as one barely alive, gazing half conscious toward the narrow Gothic window near by, through which she had a glimpse of mountains and blue sky. But the sunlight which fell in patches upon the Turkey rug dazzled her aching eyes, and she closed them painfully. She felt wretchedly ill. Her throat was parched, and her body was so weak that even to move her hand had been an effort. She slept again, woke and slept again, aware now, even in her stupor, of someone moving near her in the room. At last with all the will-power left at her command, she opened wide her eyes and raised herself upon an elbow. It was night, but lamps upon two tables shed a generous glow.