"What is the matter? Where is he going?" cried Wagner in dismay.
Some answer had to be made.
"Oh, it is nothing. He struck his hand against the teeth of poor Russ, and grazed the skin."
"Yes, I know; but it did not bleed. Is that why he grew so pale?"
"A brain like his receives quick suggestions; in the flash of an eye his thoughts fly to the very limit of possible consequences. Villiers doubtless believes himself in danger of hydrophobia, and as in such case delay adds to the danger, he is running as fast as he can to Lucerne, to have the wound cauterised."
"But there is no wound."
Wagner received an unpleasant impression. He was clearly disturbed by Villiers, whose conversation he found it so difficult to understand, and whose character he could not comprehend.
But it was best to laugh it off. The involuntary culprit, good old Russ, was in perfect health, and there could not be any danger.
When Villiers, feeling rather sheepish, returned to Tribschen on the following day, Wagner, as soon as he saw him in the distance, made a pretence of extreme terror, and exclaimed,
"He is mad! He is mad!"