“Tell Meister Peter, I have taken his wife to see Fraulein Van Hoogstraten in Nobelstrasse.”

Maria could scarcely keep up with the doctor’s rapid strides and had some difficulty in understanding him, as in broken sentences he told her that all the Glipper friends of the Hoogstraten family had left the city, the old Fraulein was dead, the servants had run away from fear of the plague, which had no existence, and Henrica was now deserted.  She had been very ill with a severe fever, but was much better during the past few days.  “Misfortune has taken up its abode in the Glipper nest,” he added.  “The scythe-man did the old lady a favor when he took her.  The French maid, a feeble nonentity, held out bravely, but after watching a few nights broke down entirely and was to have been carried to St. Catharine’s hospital, but the Italian steward, who is not a bad fellow, objected and had her taken to a Catholic laundress.  He has followed to nurse her.  No one is left in the deserted house to attend to the young lady, except Sister Gonzaga, a good little nun, one of the three who were allowed to remain in the old convent near you, but early this morning, to cap the climax of misfortune, the kind old woman scalded her fingers while heating a bath.  The Catholic priest has faithfully remained at his post, but what can we men do in nursing the sick girl!  You doubtless now suspect why I brought you with me.  You ought not and cannot become the stranger’s nurse permanently; but if the young lady is not to sink after all, she must now have some face about her which she can love, and God has blessed you with one.  Look at the sick girl, talk with her, and if you are what I believe you—­but here we are.”

The air of the dark entrance hall of the Hoogstraten residence was filled with a strong odor of musk.  The old lady’s death had been instantly announced at the town-hall by Doctor Bontius’ representative, and an armed man was marching up and down in the hall, keeping guard, who told the physician that Herr Van Hout had already been here with his men and put seals on all the doors.

On the staircase Maria siezed her guide’s arm in terror; for through an open door-way of the second story, to which she was ascending with her companion, she saw in the dusk a shapeless figure, moving strangely hither and thither, up and down.  Her tone was by no means confident as, pointing towards it with her finger, she asked the doctor: 

“What is that?”

The physician had paused with her, and seeing the strange object to which the burgomaster’s wife pointed, recoiled a step himself.  But the cool-headed man quickly perceived the real nature of the ghostly apparition, and leading Maria forward exclaimed smiling: 

“What in the world are you doing there on the floor, Father Damianus?”

“I am scouring the boards,” replied the priest quietly.

“Right is right,” cried the doctor indignantly.  “You are too good for maid-servant’s work, Father Damianus, especially when there is plenty of money without an owner here in the house, and we can find as many scrubbing-women as we want to-morrow.”