Several uneventful days followed. My life at Nideck was becoming dull and . Every morning there was the doleful bugle-call of the huntsman, whose occupation was gone; then came a visit to the count; after that breakfast, with Sperver's interminable upon the Black Plague, the gossiping and of Marie Lagoutte, Maître Tobias, and all that pack of idle servants, who had nothing to do but eat and drink, smoke, and go to sleep. The only man who had any kind of individual existence was Knapwurst, who sat buried up to the tip of his red nose in old chronicles all the day long, careless of the cold so long as there was anything left to find out in his curious researches.  
My weariness of all this may easily be imagined. Ten times had Sperver taken me over the stables and the ; the dogs were beginning to know me. I knew by heart all the coarse pleasantries of the major-domo over his bottles and Marie Lagoutte's invariable replies. Sébalt's was infecting me; I would gladly have blown a little on his horn to tell the mountains of my , and my eyes were directed towards Fribourg.
 
Still the of Yeri-Hans, lord of Nideck, was taking its usual course, and this gave my only occupation any serious interest. All the particulars which Sperver had made me acquainted with appeared clearly before me; sometimes the count, waking up with a start, would half rise, and supported on his elbow, with neck outstretched and haggard eyes, would mutter, "She is coming, she is coming!"
 
Then Gideon would shake his head and the signal-tower, but neither right nor left could the Black Plague be discovered.
 
After long reflection upon this strange I had come to the conclusion that the sufferer was insane. The strange influence that the old hag exercised over him, his alternate phases of madness and , all confirmed me in this view.
 
Medical men who have given especial attention to the subject of mental are well aware that periodical madness is of not unfrequent occurrence. In some cases the illness appears several times in the year, in others at only particular seasons of the year. I know at Fribourg an old lady who for thirty years past has regularly presented herself at the door of the . At her own request they place her in ; then the unhappy woman every night passes through the terrible scenes of the French Revolution, of which she was a witness in her youth. She trembles in the hands of the executioner; she fancies herself with the blood of the victims; she weeps and cries aloud incessantly. In the course of a few weeks the mind returns to its wonted seat, and she is restored to liberty with the full expectation that she will return again in a year.
 
"The Count of Nideck is suffering from a similar attack," I said; "unknown chains unite his fate with that of the Black Plague. Who can tell?" thought I; "that woman once was young, perhaps beautiful!"
 
And my imagination, once launched, carried me into the interesting regions of romance; but I was careful to tell no one what I thought. If I had opened out those to Sperver he would never have forgiven me for imagining that there could have been any between his master and the Black Plague; and as for Mademoiselle Odile, I dared not suggest to her.
 
The poor young lady was evidently most unhappy. Her refusal to marry had so the count against her that he could scarcely endure to have her in his presence. He bitterly reproached her with her and disobedience, and upon the cruelty of ungrateful children. Sometimes even violent curses followed his daughter's visits. Things at last were so bad that I thought myself obliged to . I therefore waited one evening on the countess in the antechamber and her to her personal attendance upon her father. But here arose, contrary to all expectations, quite an unforeseen obstacle. In spite of all my she insisted on watching by her father and nursing him as she had done hitherto.
 
"It is my duty," she repeated, "and no arguments will shake my purpose," she said firmly.
 
"Madam," I replied as a last effort, "the medical profession, too, has its duties, and an man must fulfil them even to harshness and cruelty; your presence is your father."
 
I shall remember all my life the sudden change in the expression of the face of Odile.
 
My solemn words of warning seemed to cause the blood to flow back to the heart; her face became white as marble, and her large blue eyes, steadily upon mine, seemed to read into the most secret of my soul.
 
"Is that possible, sir?" she ; "upon your honour, do you declare this? Tell me truly!"
 
"Yes, madam, upon my honour."
 
There was a long and painful silence, only broken at last by these words in a low voice:—
 
"Let God's will be done!"
 
And with downcast eyes she withdrew.
 
The day after this scene, about eight in the morning, I was pacing up and down in Hugh Lupus's tower, thinking of the count's illness, of which I could not the issue—and I was thinking too of my patients at Fribourg, whom I might lose by too prolonged an absence—when three taps upon my door turned my thoughts into another channel.
 
"Come in!"
 
The door opened, and Marie Lagoutte stood within, dropping me a low curtsey.
 
This old dame's visit put me out, and I was going to beg her to her visit, when something mysterious in her caught my attention. She had thrown over her shoulders a red-and-green shawl; she was biting her lips, with her head down, and as soon as she had closed the door she opened it again, and peeped out, to make sure that no one had followed her.
 
"What does she want with me?" I thought; "what is the meaning of all these precautions?"
 
And I was quite puzzled.
 
"Monsieur le Docteur," said the lady, advancing towards me, "I beg your pardon for disturbing you so early in the morning, but I have a very serious ............