“Very well,” I answered with a laugh, scouting the idea, and then boldly passing out into the hall.
“Good Heavens?” I gasped a few moments later, almost as soon as I had reached her side. “Hoefer! come here quickly. There’s something devilish, uncanny in this. I’ve never felt like this before.”
The old German dashed out of the room and was in an instant beside me.
“How do you feel?” he inquired.
I heard his voice, but it sounded like that of some one speaking in the far distance. The shock was just as though an icy hand had struck me as I had emerged from the hall. I was cold from head to foot, shivering violently, while my lower limbs became so benumbed that I could not feel my feet.
I must have reeled, for Hoefer in alarm caught me in his arms and steadied me...
“Tell me—what are your symptoms?”
“I’m cold,” I answered, my voice trembling and my teeth chattering violently.
He seized my wrist, and his great fingers closed upon it.
“Ach!” he cried in genuine alarm, “your pulse is failing. And your eyes!” he added, looking into them. “You are cold—your legs are rigid—you have the same symptoms, exactly the same, as the young lady?”