“And who is attending the patient?”

“I came to you about the physician, my dear sir, for Doctor de Bout, who instantly obeyed my summons, was treated so badly by the old excellenza, that he turned his back upon her and told me, at the door of the house, he wouldn’t come again.”

Wilhelm shook his head, and the Italian continued, “There are other doctors in Leyden, but Father Damianus says de Bont or Bontius, as they call him, is the most skilful and learned of them all, and as the old excellenza herself had an attack of illness about noon, and certainly won’t leave her bed very speedily, the way is open, and Father Damianus says he’ll go to Doctor Bontius himself if necessary.  But as you are a native of the city and acquainted with the signorina, I wanted to spare him the rebuff he would probably meet from the foe of our holy Church.  The poor man has enough to suffer from good-for-nothing boys and scoffers, when he goes through the city with the sacrament.”

“You know people are strictly forbidden to disturb him in the exercise of his calling.”

“Yet he can’t show himself in the street without being jeered.  We two cannot change the world, sir.  So long as the Church had the upper hand, she burned and quartered you, now you have the power here, our priests are persecuted and scorned.”

“Against the law and the orders of the magistrates.”

“You can’t control the people, and Father Damianus is a lamb, who bears everything patiently, as good a Christian as many saints before whom we burn candles.  Do you know the doctor?”

“A little, by sight.”

“Oh, then go to him, sir, for the young lady’s sake,” cried the old man earnestly.  “It is in your power to save a human life, a beautiful young life.”

The steward’s eyes glittered with tears.  As Wilhelm laid his hand on his arm, saying kindly:  “I will try,” the fencing-master called:  “Your council is lasting too long for me.  I’ll come another time.”

“No, Meister, come up a minute, This gentleman is here on account of a poor sick girl.  The poor, helpless creature is now lying without any care, for her aunt, old Fraulein Van Hoogstraten, has driven Doctor de Bont from her bed because he is a Calvinist.”

“From the sick girl’s bed?”

“It’s abominable enough, but the old lady is now ill herself.”

“Bravo, bravo!” cried the fencing-master, clapping his hands.  “If the devil himself isn’t afraid of her and wants to fetch her, I’ll pay for his post-horses.  But the girl, the sick girl?”

“Herr Belotti begs me to persuade de Bont to visit her again.  Are you on friendly terms with the doctor?”

“I was, Wilhelm, I was; but—­last Friday we had some sharp words about the new morions, and now the learned demi-god demands an apology from me, but to sound a retreat isn’t written here—­”

“Oh, my dear sir,” cried Belotti, with touching earnestness.  “The poor child is lying helpless in a raging fever.  If Heaven has blessed you with children—­”