“Not a soul living could tell you that now,”
he said; “besides, they say her body was removed;
but no one is sure of that either.”
Having thus spoken, as time pressed, he dropped his
axe and departed, leaving us to hear the remainder
of the General’s strange story.
The Meeting
“My beloved child,” he resumed, “was
now growing rapidly worse. The physician who
attended her had failed to produce the slightest impression
on her disease, for such I then supposed it to be.
He saw my alarm, and suggested a consultation.
I called in an abler physician, from Gratz.
“Several days elapsed before he arrived.
He was a good and pious, as well as a learned man.
Having seen my poor ward together, they withdrew to
my library to confer and discuss. I, from the
adjoining room, where I awaited their summons, heard
these two gentlemen’s voices raised in something
sharper than a strictly philosophical discussion.
I knocked at the door and entered. I found the
old physician from Gratz maintaining his theory.
His rival was combating it with undisguised ridicule,
accompanied with bursts of laughter. This unseemly
manifestation subsided and the altercation ended on
my entrance.
“‘Sir,’ said my first physician,
’my learned brother seems to think that you
want a conjuror, and not a doctor.’
“‘Pardon me,’ said the old physician
from Gratz, looking displeased, ’I shall state
my own view of the case in my own way another time.
I grieve, Monsieur le General, that by my skill and
science I can be of no use. Before I go I shall
do myself the honor to suggest something to you.’
“He seemed thoughtful, and sat down at a table
and began to write.
“Profoundly disappointed, I made my bow, and
as I turned to go, the other doctor pointed over his
shoulder to his companion who was writing, and then,
with a shrug, significantly touched his forehead.
“This consultation, then, left me precisely
where I was. I walked out into the grounds, all
but distracted. The doctor from Gratz, in ten
or fifteen minutes, overtook me. He apologized
for having followed me, but said that he could not
conscientiously take his leave without a few words
more. He told me that he could not be mistaken;
no natural disease exhibited the same symptoms; and
that death was already very near. There remained,
however, a day, or possibly two, of life. If the
fatal seizure were at once arrested, with great care
and skill her strength might possibly return.
But all hung now upon the confines of the irrevocable.
One more assault might extinguish the last spark of
vitality which is, every moment, ready to die.
“‘And what is the nature of the seizure
you speak of?’ I entreated.
“’I have stated all fully in this note,
which I place in your hands upon the distinct condition
that you send for the nearest clergyman, and open
my letter in his presence, and on no account read it
till he is with you; you would despise it else, and
it is a matter of life and death. Should the
priest fail you, then, indeed, you may read it.’
