“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.

XIV

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.’