"Yes, that is true," grumbled Blucher, "they are burning like fire.
I will go out, therefore; the night-wind will cool them."
He turned again toward the door, but at this moment it was thrust open, and Surgeon-General Voelzke entered the room. "I am told your excellency intends to take an airing," said the physician, almost indignantly. "But I declare that I cannot permit it. You have intrusted yourself to my treatment; I am responsible to God, to the king, to the whole world—nay, to history, if I allow you to rush so recklessly to destruction; I will not suffer it; your excellency must not ride out!"
"I should like to see who is to prevent me!" cried Blucher, striding toward the door.
"The physician will prevent you," said Voelzke, standing in the doorway with his large, tall form. "The physician has the right of giving orders to kings and emperors, and Marshal Forward has to submit to his commands, too."
"I do not think of it," said Blucher; "I do not permit any one to give me orders."
"Not even your disease—your inflamed eyes?" asked Voelzke, solemnly. "Did you not obey when your fever and inflamed eyes commanded you to remain idle at Laon for ten days, although you were in a towering passion, and were bent on advancing with the army? Well, your excellency, I tell you, if you do not now obey me. and consent to desist from taking an airing—if you are determined to ride out in the cold night-air, one more powerful than I am will compel you to obey; and that one is your disease. You may ride out today, but to-morrow it will command you to keep your bed, the inflammation of your eyes will make you a prisoner, and you will be unable to flee from it, notwithstanding your imperious will, or your four-horsed carriage."
"Well, well," said Blucher, "you put on such solemn airs as almost to frighten me. It is true, my disease is very powerful, and this soreness of my eyes has already rendered me so desperate that—"
"That your excellency has written letters," interposed Gneisenau, pointing to the table. "But, what do I see? There is one addressed to me!"
"No, give it to me," cried Blucher, embarrassed; "now that you are here, I can tell you every thing verbally, and it is unnecessary for you to read what I have written."
He was about to seize the letter, but Gneisenau drew hack a step, and, bowing deeply said, "Your excellency has done me the honor of writing to me. Permit me, therefore, to read." He stepped quickly into the window-niche, and opened the letter.