They had just reached the house of "The Unbelieving Thomas," when the riotous young man stood suddenly still, shook himself loose from his friend by a violent gesture,
and declared that he was ready to challenge all the spooky spirits of the lane--which he now, for the first time, recognized. He proposed to thrust them through with the weapons of science till they were frightened back into the nebulous nothingness whence only the baldest superstition had suffered them to creep forth. This should be his first service to his native town, which, to its own shame, had tolerated this relic of Egyptian darkness, or worse, of Medievalism, here in its midst, at the end of the nineteenth century.
He struck a defiant attitude on the sidewalk,
while with one arm he brandished his stick against possible ghostly opponents and with the other he warded off his friend. In this way he lost his balance and fell against the house, striking his head so forcibly upon the sharp edge of the door-post that a large jet of blood spurted instantly from the wounded temple.
In great consternation his friend attempted to raise him and staunch the wound with his handkerchief, while he called loudly for help. In this last effort he was finally successful, for the narrow window of the porter's room, directly over their heads, was flung open. In a few words the engineer explained to Wenzel Kospoth what had happened. When the trusty Bohemian opened the door and saw the wound by the light of his candle, he shook his head. It would be impossible to convey the young man, bleeding thus profusely, to his home, without giving occasion for much talk. There was no comfortable place for him in his stuffy shop; but it happened that in the rear court lived a friend of his who was skilled in such matters, and they would carry the gentleman to her without arousing the neighborhood.
No sooner said than done. As they crossed the court with their heavy burden, they saw a light shining out of Frau Cordula's windows, one of which was opened in answer to the cobbler's call. But the voice which inquired what was the matter was that of Gundula, who was still awake and busied in finishing off some work for the morrow. Learning what Samaritan service was required of them, she quickly appeared at the door below, clasping her hands in terror as she saw the blood streaming from the young man's forehead. The older woman, too, was not a little disturbed when they laid her patient down before her; but retaining her presence of mind, she directed her daughter to fetch her box of remedies. Out of this she took the necessary articles; then, with fresh water she cleansed the wound, which, fortunately, had not penetrated the bone, pressed the jagged edges firmly together, and closed them with a needle and thread, finishing by binding a soft bandage over the forehead.
During these proceedings the patient had not once regained consciousness, but lay bolstered up with two pillows on an old sofa in the living-room. The woman hobbled about on her two crutches, and from time to time applied cooling bandages to the heated brow.
She assured the two men there was no danger,--the wound would heal in a few days. The friend saw that he was in fact superfluous; and recognizing the skill of the good woman, he renounced his intention of watching during the night, and with heartfelt thanks, withdrew with Wenzel Kospoth.