"Then she talked of indifferent subjects until I took leave, and the two or three times that I afterwards saw her at dinner, she always wore the same expression, of immovable cold insensibility to every joy. During my stay at the castle, I fished for news like a member of the secret police, questioned all her servants, and even thrust my nose into things of a tolerably disagreeable nature. In vain. The only person who perhaps might tell me something, her waiting maid, is as silent as the grave. I'm just as wise as before, and when this afternoon I raised the beautiful hand to my lips in farewell, it was no whit warmer than at my first visit.
"The count, who has some business to do here, wanted to drive me to the railway station himself. I could not conceal from him that he would be merely throwing away his money, if he consulted any more of my colleagues. A slight hint I gave, that he might perhaps regret it if he insisted upon living under the same roof with her, that the sickness which was impending might be averted by leaving her entirely to herself, by a real separation, threw him into such a rage that I had great difficulty in even partially soothing him.
"He had confidence in me, and I was forced to promise to invent some pretext for commencing a correspondence with the countess, in order to keep myself in some degree conversant with her condition. But these are all useless expedients. I see clearly that there's but one hope of solving this strange enigma, and--in some way--discovering where we are. There's but one person who has any influence over her; it dawned upon me like an inspiration, as soon as I saw him again. This one person is--yourself! And now make up your mind, first, whether it's your duty to set this poor woman's head straight, which some crotchet has disturbed and bids fair to completely derange; secondly, whether you can trust yourself to undertake it without danger to yourself or a relapse into your old infatuation."
He had approached Edwin, and in spite of the gathering darkness, was trying to read his face. After a time, as no answer came, he continued. "But whatever you decide to do, you must do quickly. I've seen cases where a state of mind that apparently gave no cause for uneasiness, and resembled intellectual palsy rather than approaching insanity, would suddenly at some trifle, change to most violent frenzy. I think that you might then be unable to shake off the sense of a certain responsibility, if you should now say: 'she's dead to me, it's not my business to bring stranger's wives to their senses.' You see, Edwin, I'm as sure as I am of my own existence, that neither he nor she would tell any third person--no matter if the dignity and wisdom of a whole faculty were united in him--what the poor wife would probably confide to her old friend. The story about the child doesn't seem to me exactly straight, but no one except herself can give any explanation of it. Courage, Edwin! If she were in a burning house, you would not hesitate to carry her out, even at the of being a little singed. Well, it wont be so bad as that. What torments these poor, good, foolish creatures, whether Catholics or Protestants, invent! what secret vows, castigations, penances, and imaginary duties they impose upon themselves dragging their poor bodies painfully about, and torturing their fellow mortals! I could tell stories, of how I've now and then cured such a distorted mind by a few sound remarks, though I can't vie with you in logic. But here there's danger in delay. I shall set out for home to-night, but the count will return to the castle in time for supper; he has guests, some cousins and neighbors, with whom he's going to hunt to-morrow. If you decide to go, I'll tell him I've accidentally met a colleague here, who has fortunately appeared in the very nick of time, and who is an authority in psychiatry, and that he can't do better than to place the case in his hands. I know you've never seen each other, and little Jean respects you too much not to keep his mouth shut if I whisper a word in his ear, I hear the count's voice below. Shall I call him or not?"
Edwin rose. "I know it will be useless, perhaps even harmful," he said in a hollow tone. "I have power over her? She must then have changed very much. But no matter. As the case now stands, you're right; I should reproach myself bitterly if I should keep on my way and afterwards hear that some misfortune had happened. I'll only make one request, that you'll tell the count who I am, the same man who once loved his wife and whose brother--oh! Marquard, that's hardest of all! To be under the same roof with the man who was the cause of Balder's death!"
"For all that he's done to you or anybody else, he's now atoning in a purgatory as terrible as one could wish for his worst enemy," replied the physician. "I'm no hero of virtue, my lad, but I should like to singe the thin locks on the count's brow with my coals of fire. But you're right, we needn't be afraid to play with our cards on the table. If he refuses, we must try some other way. But from what I know of him, he's above the common fear of ghosts and will welcome with open arms any spectre that will aid him in regaining his wife."
He rushed out of the room, and Edwin remained alone, a prey to the most contradictory emotions.
CHAPTER III.
He hastily lighted a candle, took a small portfolio out of his traveling satchel and wrote a few lines to inform Mohr where he was to be found, in case his friend did not prefer to await his return, which he hoped would be speedy, at the hotel. "It would be best," he concluded, "for you to follow me at once, and take me away from the castle, where the duties of friendship and a vain hope of being useful, may perhaps detain me longer than I desire." He had just folded this note, to leave it in the hotel, and was looking at his letter to Leah, irresolute whether or not to open it and add a postscript, when he heard steps on the stairs and directly after Marquard entered with the count.
His first emotion was that of surprise, at seeing the very face he had imagined whenever he thought of his rival--the insipid regularity of the features, the haughty pose of the head, the hair already thin and streaked with grey, while a thick, carefully trimmed beard covered the cheeks and chin, the whole appearance indicating the scion of a noble house and the heir of large estates. But the bright light that fell upon his countenance revealed also traces of secret suffering, which weighed down the eyelids and compressed the lips. The painful suspense with which Edwin had awaited the man he had so long avoided, instantly disappeared. It cost him no effort to take the hand which his old antagonist frankly extended, and he returned its pressure without any feeling of bitterness.