So saying, the representatives of science took their leave. At the door they met Count von Langermann, the messenger of the empress.
"Ah, gentlemen," said he, "you are hastening from this enchanted spot to announce its wonders to the world. No one will venture to doubt, when such learned professors have seen and believed. I myself am on my way to apprise the empress of Mesmer's success."
"Pray inform the empress, also, that we have seen an admirable comedy, count," said Barth, with a sneer.
"A comedy!" echoed the count. "It is a marvellous reality. Yourself confessed it, professor."
"A careless word, prematurely uttered, is not to be accepted as evidence," growled Barth.
"Such astounding things demand time for consideration. They may be optical delusions," added Ingenhaus.
"Ah, gentlemen, the fact is a stubborn one," laughed Count Langermann. "Therese von Paradies has recovered her sight without couching-knife or lancet, and I shall certainly convey the news of the miracle to the empress."
"What shall we do?" asked the astronomer of his compeers, as Count
Langermann bowed and left them.
Professor Barth answered nothing.
"We must devise something to prop up science, or she will fall upon our heads and crush us to death," said Ingenhaus.