He was still unable to return to Lindenhof. The French journalist, however, came there, and the first news which rekindled my hope came in a letter from my then unknown friend, which—together with one from the count—was thrown into my carriage by a little boy.
This letter was stolen from me by my companion. The other missive remained in my possession, and in vain did my police-woman attempt to dispossess me of it.
When I read it with a throbbing heart I only found one word, written in a language which I never heard in my captivity—the language of my native land. My eyes filled with tears, I read and re-read this word:
"HOPE."
CHAPTER XVII
How I Regained my Liberty and at the Same Time was Declared Sane
As I had not been in good health it seemed advisable for me to take the waters at some cure. I really needed treatment, and as small thermal establishments abound in Germany it was not difficult to find a place suitable to my state of health, where my keepers would have no fear of a cosmopolitan crowd, and where they could still guard me as an isolated prisoner.
However, soon after the incident of the letters which had been thrown into my carriage, I was told that I was to stay at Lindenhof. The promised cure was abandoned.
Fortunately the doctor who was called in consultation sided with me, and promised to intervene on my behalf. In the meantime my daily walks ceased. I even decided not to go out at all, as I was completely misled by all the stories which were told me, especially by Dr. Pierson.
He rigorously guarded me, although he always treated me with respect. He knew perfectly well that I was not mad, but he also knew that I was a very remunerative patient; the idea of losing me was extremely unpleasant to him. He continued to watch me, but he also tried to humour me, and he easily persuaded himself that Lindenhof was a really enchanting place.
Had it not been for his position of Doctor in Lunacy and my jailer, his visits would not have been disagreeable to me, as they were not lacking in courtesy.