"Let this child try, then. It is impossible to say what effect she might produce," said Heim. "Have you the courage, my child, to watch with your cousin tonight?"
"Oh, sir, I think I can never touch my bed until Ernestine has left hers."
"There's a brave girl! upon my word, I've seen nothing so charming for a long while. She will soon rival Ernestine in my heart!"
Johannes laid a cloth dipped in ice-water upon Ernestine's forehead, who continued to moan bitterly that she was not dead and they must not treat her thus.
"Ernestine," said Gretchen in her clear, bell-like voice, "no one shall harm you. Be quiet, dear."
"Do you not see," wailed the sick girl, "that they are trying to weigh my brain? and it hurts! oh, how it hurts!"
"Ernestine, you are dreaming," said Gretchen. "This is only a damp cloth. Feel it yourself."
"Remember that, although I am dead, my soul is living. Oh, if I could only stop thinking! Dying is nothing! living is the worst of all!"
Johannes turned away, and wrung his hands. "Ah, Johannes!" she exclaimed, "my uncle's knife is sharp, I cannot get away. Why did they bind me here, if they thought me dead?" And in an instant she thrust Gretchen aside, and would have leaped from the bed, had not Johannes gently but firmly thrown his strong arm around her and forced her back among the pillows.
"Let me go! let go!" she moaned. "Who ever heard of dissection before death?"