Pomius hated every other doctor in the town, and abused them so for their ignorance and stupidity, that finally her Grace believed that no one in the world knew anything but Doctor Pomius, and that a vast amount of profound knowledge was expressed, if he only put his finger to the end of his nose, as was his habit.

So, as I have said, she summoned him to attend the young lord; and after feeling his pulse and asking some questions respecting his general health, the doctor laid his finger, as usual, to his nose, and pronounced solemnly—"The young Prince must immediately take a dose of asses' dung stewed in wine, with a little of the laudanum paracelsi poured in afterwards—this will restore him certainly."

But it was all in vain; for the young Prince still continued day and night calling for Sidonia, and neither the Duchess nor Doctor Gerschovius could in any wise comfort him. This afflicted her Grace almost to the death; and by Ulrich's advice, she despatched her second son, Duke Barnim the younger, and Dagobert von Schwerin, to the court of Brunswick, to solicit in her name the hand of the young Princess Sophia Hedwig, for her son Ernest Ludovicus. Now, in the whole kingdom, there was no more beautiful princess than Sophia of Brunswick; and her Grace was filled with hope that, by her means, the influence of the detestable Sidonia over the heart of the young lord would be destroyed for ever.

In due time the ambassadors returned, with the most favourable answer. Father, mother, and daughter all gave consent; and the Duke of Brunswick also forwarded by their hands an exquisite miniature of his beautiful daughter for Prince Ernest.

This miniature her Grace now hung up beside his bed. Would he not look at the beautiful bride she had selected for him? Could there be a more lovely face in all the German empire? What was Sidonia beside her, but a rude country girl!—would he not give her up at last, this light wench? While, on the contrary, this illustrious princess was as virtuous as she was beautiful, and this the whole court of Brunswick could testify.

But the young lord would give no heed to her Grace, and spat out at the picture, and cried to take away the daub—into the fire with it—anywhere out of his sight. Unless his dear, his beautiful Sidonia came to tend him, he would die—he felt that he was dying.

So her Grace took counsel with old Ulrich, and Doctor Pomius, and the priest, what could be done now. The doctor mentioned that he must have been witch-struck. Then more doctors were sent for from the Grypswald, but all was in vain—no one knew what ailed him; and from day to day he grew worse.

Clara von Dewitz now bitterly reproached herself for having concealed her suspicions about the love-drink from her Grace—though indeed she did so by desire of her betrothed, Marcus Bork. But now, seeing that the young Prince lay absolutely at the point of death, she could no longer hold her peace, but throwing herself on her knees before her Grace, told her the whole story of the witch-girl whom she had sheltered in the castle, and of her fears that Sidonia had learned from her how to brew a love-philtre, which she had afterwards given to the Prince.

Her Grace was sore displeased with Clara for having kept all this a secret, and said that she would have expected more wisdom and discretion from her, seeing that she had always counted her the most worthy amongst her maidens; then she summoned Ulrich, and laid the evil matter before him. He shook his head; believed that they had hit on the true cause now. Such a sickness had nothing natural about it—there must be magic and witchwork in it; but he would have the whole land searched for the girl, and make her give the young lord some potion that would take off the spell.

Now the witch-girl had been pardoned a few days before that, and sent back to Usdom, near Daber; but bailiffs were now sent in all directions to arrest her, and bring her again to Wolgast without delay.