The Children of the World Part 50

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 friends.h.i.+p 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 n.o.ble 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.

"We both know enough of each other to meet, even at the first interview, as old acquaintances," said the count. "Our friend Doctor Marquard, has told you the sad circ.u.mstances which induced me to ask his advice. Unfortunately, he has been forced to confirm my fear that his science has no means of reaching this obstinate disease. In such cases we usually take refuge in all sorts of miraculous remedies, and I confess I'm not sufficiently free from superst.i.tion, to refuse to consult, if necessary, some old astrologist, or some woman who deals in herbs. But before proceeding to such extreme measures, I should like to try a better remedy. I know you were on very intimate terms with the countess before she became my wife. She told me at the time, that there was no man for whom she felt more esteem, nay reverence, than for yourself; perhaps for that very reason another man would inform anyone, rather than you, of his domestic unhappiness. But I believe you to be a man of honor, Herr Doctor, and therefore incapable of entering my house with selfish and malevolent joy to meet the woman who has not made your rival happy. Besides, my state of mind is such that I no longer care for myself, that I would risk everything to avert, if possible, the terrible misfortune that threatens my wife. I shall consider it a great proof of friends.h.i.+p, if you will go with me and after watching the patient for a time, give me your opinion of her. If you should succeed--" He paused and turned away. "However," he continued in a much more formal tone, "I've no excuse whatever for asking such a favor, and in case your time should not permit--"

"I'm entirely ready to go with you, Herr Count," replied Edwin. "But I repeat what I've already told my friend--I go without any delusion that I can exert any influence over the countess' mind. As in the old days, in spite of her great confidence, she remained a mystery to me, I fear that now, too, all my psychology will be baffled by the same problem.

But precisely because I stand in such a peculiar relation toward you, you shall at least not be permitted to doubt my good will."

He took his hat and cane, pa.s.sed the strap of his traveling satchel over his shoulder, and opened the door. The three men walked down stairs in silence side by side.

An elegant two seated hunting carriage was standing before the door of the hotel; the long limbed young man in a green livery embroidered with silver, who held the reins of the fiery horses which impatiently pawed the ground, fixed his round blue eyes with embarra.s.sed delight on his old acquaintance, who nodded kindly to him as he came out of the house.

Marquard was right, little Jean's body had grown, but the rosy beardless face remained unchanged. Edwin handed to the landlord for mailing, the letter he had written Leah, gave him the necessary information about Mohr's note, pressed Marquard's hand again and sprang into the carriage. The count followed, took the reins from Jean who sat behind, and waving his whip to the physician, spoke to the horses, which impatiently dashed forward with the light vehicle.

"You'll make allowance for me, and pardon me if I seem silent or abstracted," said the count, as soon as they had turned from the paved streets into the softer forest road. "I've two new horses, which I'm trying for the first time, and I must keep them well in hand. They're full blooded Trakehners, but still somewhat young and untrained. Do you take any interest in horses?"

"Yes, an interest, but I'm so ignorant that I should be laughed at by all connoisseurs. The Great Elector's steed on the long bridge is to me the crown of his race, and only now and then I find among brewer's horses a specimen, that distantly reminds me of this ideal."

"That breed is scarcely used now, except for certain purposes," replied the count gravely. "There's even a prejudice that muscular strength bears a necessary relation to coa.r.s.eness. The capacity to use strength is the princ.i.p.al thing, and for that, thick fetlocks and broad chests are not always requisite. Ho! ho!"--he shouted, as the horse on the right did not know what to do with himself in his wanton caracoles. He made the beautiful animals walk for some distance, standing erect as he watched their pace with the eye of a connoisseur. When they had grown more quiet and yielded to his firm hand, he resumed his seat beside Edwin, and allowed them to trot.

Field after field, and forest after forest, tiny villages and lonely huts flitted past them; the air grew no cooler, but the earth grew darker, and the sky lighter. The horses dashed onward with their silent load; the deep stillness of the summer night enwrapped them; over the black tree tops hung the tender crescent of the moon, and now and then a flash of light lit up the firmament, as if from a distant thunder cloud; a dreamy, quiet mood stole over our friend, the subdued happiness of a half dormant soul; in such a state we do not take either joys or sorrows seriously and are scarcely surprised at the occurrence of the most fabulous things. For years he had not uttered Toinette's name; her image had become as dim in his memory as if she were no more real than a character in some book of fiction; and now he was driving toward her, who doubtless had as little expectation of such a meeting as he himself had entertained an hour ago. He wondered if he should find her so changed and why they fancied he would perform a miracle by acting upon her strange moods, he who felt that all the ties that had once bound him to her, were so utterly sundered.

He was surprised at the entire absence of anxiety with which he looked forward to the moment when he was to see her again. He rejoiced in this calmness. "If it had been an elementary power, to which I submitted in those days," he thought, "the poison would now seethe in my blood again.

Though the iron be separated from the magnet a hundred years, it quickly becomes conscious of its approach. True, happiness has changed me much since then, so far as a man's nature can be changed and I am calmed and strengthened. What will Leah say, when I tell her about it!"

He could not forbare to wonder at the singular circ.u.mstances, which had decreed that the most unprejudiced witness of those past events, should be the very one to recognize him and thereby restore to his mistress her old friend. The old question of the connection between earthly destinies once more rose before his mind. "Is this an intentional exercise of some will that rules and guides our souls, or do we separate and meet again like the waves of the sea, which obey only the ebb and flow of the tide?"

Again he left these questions unsolved and became wholly absorbed in the enjoyment of the moment. His companion did not disturb him. The duties of a driver claimed his attention more and more, for the moon grew brighter and the fiery young animals often s.h.i.+ed and reared at the sight of some, to them, mysterious object. For a time Edwin closed his eyes and enjoyed the cool night air which refreshed him like a bath, after the toilsome walk he had taken during the day. When, roused by a sudden jolt of the carriage, he again opened his eyes, he was amazed at the wondrous beauty of the scene. Before him, probably at the distance of a fifteen minutes drive, on a bold height appeared the battlements and pinnacles of a castle, to which a broad wide avenue led through the dark forests. The roofs glittered in the moonlight as if coated with silver, and when the wind moved the vanes, lines of light darted from their sharp edges like falling stars. All the windows seemed to be dark, no living thing seemed to be moving within; it was like some enchanted palace. But when the light carriage, despite the rising ground, had traversed the avenue through the forest at full speed, and entered the courtyard through a lofty portal, flanked by two griffens bearing coats of arms, there was a confusion of voices, mingled with the barking of dogs, lackeys bearing torches rushed out of the lofty and brilliantly lighted hall to meet the two gentlemen, a portly butler in a black coat and white cravat appeared at the carriage door and helped the stranger to descend, while the count threw the reins to a stable boy and said to the head groom, in excellent English, a few words about the first trial of the new horses. Then he too sprang out of the carriage and overtook his guest on the upper step.

"My dear Herr Doctor," said he, putting his arm through Edwin's with condescending familiarity, "I welcome you on the threshold of my home.

I hope you may remain here some time, and only regret"--here he lowered his voice--"that I cannot present you to the countess to-day. She has entirely withdrawn from all our evening a.s.semblies, and only occasionally appears at dinner. I hope the visit of an old friend may induce her to make an exception in his favor to-morrow. For to-day, you must be satisfied with masculine society. Have the gentlemen come down?" he asked, turning to the butler who, holding a silver candlestick, was preceding the gentlemen up the already brilliantly lighted marble staircase.

"Five minutes ago. Your Excellency."

"Then we'll not keep them waiting. But perhaps, Herr Doctor, before we sit down to supper, you'll wish to retire to your room a moment."

Edwin smiled. "I'm not able to make an elaborate toilette," he said glancing at his traveling satchel, which a servant was carrying after him. "You must apologize to your guests, Herr Count, for picking up a simple wayfarer and bringing him under your stately roof."

"No ceremony among friends," replied the count, still with the same immovably courteous face. "You'll find us too entirely _sans gene_; some of my neighbors have ridden over in their hunting suits, as we have a deer hunt early to-morrow morning and I hope you'll give us the pleasure of your company on the occasion."

He did not wait for a reply, but approached the large folding doors, which were hastily thrown open by two footmen, and which admitted them to the broad, carpeted ante-room of the first story. With an easy, friendly gesture, the count invited Edwin to precede him, and they entered the lofty dining hall.

CHAPTER IV.

Several slender tawny greyhounds came bounding toward them and completed the illusion that they were entering a banqueting hall of the _rococo_ times. The room was s.p.a.cious and lofty, of an oblong shape, with rounded corners adorned in the richest style of the last century with gilded stucco-work and huge pier gla.s.ses which reflected the light of the candles in the large gla.s.s chandelier and the glittering silver on the table. At the other end of the apartment a gla.s.s door opened upon a balcony, and this, like the two windows on each side, afforded a view of the park, whose majestic trees towered above the long clipped hedges and arbors. Nothing recalled the present century except an elegant piano, at which a young man sat who failed to hear the entrance of the master of the house and his guest, amid the noise made by his das.h.i.+ng pa.s.sages.

The others, who appeared to have been waiting some time, instantly turned toward the door, and one after another was greeted by the count and introduced to Edwin. Suddenly the musician paused, started up and with great cordiality, hurried toward the count. He was a handsome young man, in whom, despite his civilian's dress, the cavalry officer was recognizable at the first glance, and whom the count introduced as his cousin, Count Gaston. He seemed to feel perfectly at home, and even at the table, where with amicable familiarity he drew Edwin down by his side, almost wholly supported the conversation, which as usual turned upon women, horses, and hunting.

When the champagne, which was not spared, began to heat the brains and loosen the tongues of even the quieter members of the company, the young gentleman turned to his neighbor, who had hitherto been a silent listener, and said in a low tone:

"There! I've done my share by dint of friction, in putting some enthusiasm into these wooden images and now the champagne must keep it up. I hope, my dear sir, you don't suppose I enjoy this insipid gabble.

But what would you have? See how my cousin, the count, sits at his own table with a face like the statue of the Commandant. If I don't victimize myself and talk nonsense, the supper will be as tiresome and silent as a funeral feast. So I must introduce subjects that amuse the gentlemen, even though they may be terribly out of taste. But now let's renew our acquaintance. Of course you don't remember our meeting a few years ago in Berlin, at the rooms of one of my intimate friends, young Baron L., to whom you were acting as private tutor, while he was preparing to pa.s.s his examination for one of the higher government offices. He's now Secretary of Legation at Constantinople, and I hope does honor to your teaching. I am still what I was then, a man who learns nothing in any school, except that of life. There must be such odd sticks! But I can tell you, I no longer sit quite at the bottom of the cla.s.s in my school; for instance, I have long since left behind the tasks at which our worthy companions are perspiring. You've been introduced to them all after the ridiculous fas.h.i.+on of murmuring a name. Allow me to make, you better acquainted with individuals. My left hand neighbor, who is addressed as Herr Colonel, is, as you've doubtless already supposed from his prominent cheek bones and peculiar accent, of Slavonian descent; a Pole of the good old race of Oginsky, who, _as he says_, having been compelled through a disagreement with the Russian authorities, to enter the Austrian service, was promoted in the Italian war to the rank of colonel; then, _as he says_, honorably discharged in consequence of a wound in the foot. He has already stayed several months with my cousin, as, _so he says_, a civil office has been offered him in France, and he's only obliged to wait for his Polish papers before becoming a naturalized citizen of that country. As he's an excellent judge of horses, a tolerably good huntsman, and an adept in all games of chance, my cousin has no reason to doubt the existence of these papers, and I of course still less. His next neighbor, the elegant gentleman of uncertain age, uncertain glance, and very certain doubtful movements of the fingers, which suggest great skill in tricks with cards, is, to speak frankly, what we call in plain prose, a blackleg, a Parisian acquaintance of my cousin, whom he invited here and can't shake off again, much as I've urged him to do so. But he seems to have his reasons for handling this Chevalier de Marsan--the only person here with whom I never exchange a syllable--with gloved hands, while I would show him the door without ceremony. My dear doctor, there are more doubtful personages between heaven and earth than are dreamed of in your philosophy. A real antidote to this corrosive sublimate pill, which I am daily compelled to swallow, is the stout gentleman on the other side of my cousin, a plebeian owner of an ancient estate, who married the daughter of an immensely rich banker; his wife never appears among us, probably because he's ashamed of her manners, which are not exactly suited to a drawing room; but nevertheless, as you see, he's an excellent man, an admirable landlord, a great huntsman, and a lover of old wine and old stories, in short, the most appreciative of auditors for my witticisms.

You've heard how he can laugh. I once made a bet that I could make him laugh till he rolled under the table, merely by telling stories of great eaters, and to be sure, at the end of an hour, he lay gasping on the floor; we were actually afraid of a fit of apoplexy. Beside this harmless mortal and directly opposite you, sit two no less worthy specimens of the creatures of G.o.d, who, however, can hardly be very proud of these, his images. Did you ever see two people so exactly alike? They look as if they'd just stepped out of Pletsch, don't they?

The same short, fair hair, the same low brows, small noses, close cropped brushes on the upper lip, and solemn faces when everyone else is roaring with laughter, which proves them very dull of comprehension.

When they stand up, you'll see that both are very tall men. Moreover, these same brothers, Thaddaus and Matthaus von der Wende are n.o.blemen of a most ancient family. It's seldom that twins have so much fraternel affection. Each is perfectly satisfied with half the usual portion of common sense, and carefully guards against becoming wiser than the other. We call them the Siamese twins, although they're not united by means of any corporal bond, and of course there can be no question of an intellectual one. However, they're rich and well bred and never annoy anyone. Next comes a short, rather high shouldered gentleman about fifty, with a white tie and crafty, humble smile, who says little, eats a great deal, and hears everything. Don't get his ill will, he's a piece of old family furniture, and was the physician, confidant, etc., of the late countess; he is called Dr. Basler, and I'd as readily trust my person to his physic, as my reputation to his tongue. Beside him sits the steward, who'll join the hunting party to-morrow and always drinks with us the night before, and the silent gentleman on your other side is my cousin's private secretary, an honest, clever soul, but afflicted with an unfortunate hobby. He's trying to find the secret of perpetual motion. There, now! you know the people a.s.sembled within this ancient house--even to the crown jewel,"

he added with a sigh, "which unfortunately disdains to s.h.i.+ne except on gala days."

"Are you speaking of the countess? I knew her several years ago, before her marriage."

"And have not seen her since? Then you'll not recognize her. I confess that upon first sight she made a great impression upon me. I was prejudiced against the marriage, which I thought was a rash step on the part of my dear cousin, after the style of his former _liaisons_.

Unequal marriages always have their difficulties, although of course I'm sufficiently enlightened not to believe in 'blue blood.' But we see every day, how uncomfortable it is for people of position to receive into their circle a worthy little goose who feels 'honored' to live under the shadow of a pedigree centuries old, or a pretentious heiress, or any of the ordinary people whom it's all very well to love, but who are too good or too bad to marry. It's easiest to get along with actresses, opera singers--or for aught I care, ballet dancers. They at least possess style, _savoir faire_, self-possession, and know us well enough not to think us wholly unlike other human beings. But a ballet master's daughter from a little provincial town--I didn't hear of the princely paternity until afterwards--I confess I was furious. I love this family seat, and have enjoyed spending a few months of every year here, away from the gayety of the capital. Now, I thought, I should be compelled to see a _roturiere_ do the honors. But after the first interview my feelings were entirely changed. Whoever her mother may have been, she at least didn't belie the father's blood. And yet--at that time she was but in the bud compared to the centifolia into which she has since expanded. Pardon me if I threaten to become poetical.

Between ourselves--or even not between ourselves, since it's public talk--my unfortunate pa.s.sion for my beautiful cousin, which is as hopeless as if I were in love with the Venus of Milo, has had so great an influence upon the development of my character, that I can truly say I'm no more like the man you met at little Baron L's., than an Ionic column is like a hedge pole."

"Your poetic fervor, Herr Count, has at least the merit of a certain impressiveness of style. But in what consists, if I may ask--"

"You're making sport of me, my honored sir. I still seem to you a frivolous n.o.bleman, a child of the world, with whom a grave man of your stamp can at the utmost only chat away an hour at table. But learn to know me better. This lady first opened my eyes to the fact that the real charm of life consists in something forever unattainable, a yearning that is ever unfulfilled. Are you familiar with Richard Wagner's music? What I've just said of life he has striven to suggest in art. For in what does the secret of melody consist? Take Mozart, Gluck, the Italian composers--there everything is complete, every piece has its beginning, its middle and its end, exactly like ordinary love affairs. We are allured, we enjoy, and we grow weary--_voila tout_, and if the music or the girl is beautiful, after a time we're again allured--a new aria, a new ecstacy--and so on indefinitely till the world tires us and our hair grows grey. This is the usual course of life and art. But now think of a hopeless pa.s.sion, such as I've felt for years. I feel the same that I hear when I listen to Tristram and Yseult--eternal longing, yearning and sighing, never repose and satisfaction, a mere a.n.a.lysis of dissonances, and withal a tumult of ecstacy in all the instruments, in which at last, as in a dream of love, sight and hearing disappear and we're fairly beside ourselves with restless longing, infinite melody, and voluptuous exhaustion. This is the secret of the success this great man has obtained--emotion increased to the utter exhaustion of all strength and constantly subduing the poor, coa.r.s.e senses--appet.i.te continually excited without being satisfied in the usual way--a sort of pathetic cancan, a musical hasheesh intoxication. And even in the choice of the text, the moral qualities of the characters, what consummate art is shown in the avoidance of everything palpable, simple, and true to nature; everything of which the ordinary human mind can form some distinct conception! Take Don Giovanni--there you know exactly where you are.

From the peasant to the n.o.bleman, from the light minded peasant girl to the n.o.ble lady--the characters are perfectly natural, people with flesh and bones, and red blood in their veins. I know them as well as if I'd lived in the same house with them. The characters of Wagner's music, on the contrary--why you might see the same opera ten times and be no whit wiser about these swan knights, G.o.ds, and flying Dutchmen, than at the first representation. I call this boundless characterization, and it supplements the boundless melody. And to enjoy such an endless master-piece, and in the meantime to brood over an endless pa.s.sion, the one as hopeless and alluring as the other--"

The conversation, which also threatened to become "boundless," was here interrupted by the master of the house, who rose, bowed to his guests, and with a courteous wave of the hand invited them to follow him into the little drawing room adjoining the dining hall. Here there were several card tables, a magnificent silver bowl containing punch, several open boxes of cigars, and other paraphernalia for smoking.

While the count, with the Polish colonel and French chevalier, were preparing to begin a game of hazard, in which no one else seemed disposed to join, the fat landed proprietor became absorbed in a conversation on agriculture with the steward, now and then asking the silent secretary for his opinion, which the latter always gave with the same grave bend of the head, often refilling his gla.s.s from the silver bowl. The inseparable brothers Thaddaus and Matthaus had stationed themselves behind the card players and gravely watched the alternations of luck. Count Gaston had returned to the dining hall and seated himself at the piano, evidently in the hope that his neighbor at table would follow and allow him to give a musical commentary on his knowledge of art and life. But Edwin was compelled to forego this instructive pleasure; for the little man with the high shoulders and clever old face, whom Gaston had introduced as the family physician, approached him and asked in his low courteous voice, if he was not the son of one of his college cla.s.smates who had suddenly abandoned the profession of law to marry a very beautiful wife. He had been struck by the resemblance before he heard the name. When Edwin answered in the affirmative, the little man became very confidential, and after inquiring very particularly about his old friend, acquainted the son with his own circ.u.mstances.

When a student of theology, somewhat advanced in life, he had entered the household to a.s.sist in educating the young count, who was then about six years old. The countess, already a widow, had taken a fancy to the clever man, who was better versed in every other department than that of theology--a fancy, which in spite of the tutor's insignificant appearance, seemed to have ripened into a still warmer feeling. Not a syllable on the part of the discreet speaker, only a peculiar glance from his piercing eyes conveyed this inference. As his prospect of advancement in his real profession became poorer and poorer, an old predilection for physical science obtained a stronger hold upon his mind; the idea of going to Berlin occurred to him, and he studied anatomy there for several years, absorbed all sorts of surgical knowledge, and at last, as the countess would not consent to dispense with his services any longer, returned to the castle with the t.i.tle of doctor somewhat doubtfully obtained, but a most undoubted salary as physician-in-ordinary, as his former pupil had left home some time before to complete his education by foreign travel.