“Yes—in hallucinations,” replied Christian, without hesitation.
“Ah! Have you ever seen any, then?”
“Sometimes—in a fever, or under some powerful mental preoccupation. In the latter case they were not so distinct as in the fever, and I could see that it was an illusion; but the appearances made a sufficient impression upon me to trouble me a good deal.”
“Just so—exactly so!” cried M. Goefle. “Well, only imagine—but I’ll tell you this evening; there’s no time now. I must go, my friend; I shall go and see the baron. He will perhaps detain me to dinner—at two o’clock. But in any event I will return as soon as possible. Ah, by the way—will you do me a service during my absence?”
“Two—three, if you wish, Monsieur Goefle; what is it?”
“To take my valet-de-chambre up out of his bed.”
“To wake him, you mean?”
“No, no! To take him up, to put on his clothes, button his gaiters, put him into his breeches; they are very tight, and he is not strong enough—”
“Oh, I understand; some old servant—an old friend, ill, or infirm?”
“No, not exactly. Stay, here he is! What a miracle! He has dressed himself all alone! Very well done, Master Nils! Why, you are improving! Up at noon, and dressed yourself! Haven’t you fatigued yourself too much?”