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.”

“But not to-day, doctor; and the young lady won’t stay in yonder room any longer.  You ordered her to go to sleep yourself, and Sister Gonzaga says she won’t close her eyes so long as she is next door to the corpse.”

“Then Van Hout’s men ought to have carried her on her bed into the old lady’s beautiful sitting-room.”

“That’s sealed, and so are all the other handsome chambers on this story.  The men were obliging and tried to find scrub-women, but the poor things are afraid of the plague.”

“Such rumors grow like wire-grass,” cried the doctor.  Nobody sows it, yet who can uproot it when it is once here?”

“Neither you nor I,” replied the priest.  “The young lady must be brought into this room at once; but it looked neglected, so I’ve just set it to rights.  It will do the invalid good, and the exercise can’t hurt me.”  With these words Father Damianus rose, and seeing Maria, said: 

“You have brought a new nurse?  That’s right.  I need not praise Sister Gonzaga, for you know her; but I assure you Fraulein Henrica won’t allow her to remain with her long, and I shall leave this house as soon as the funeral is over.”

“You have done your duty; but what does this news about the Sister mean?” cried the physician angrily.  “I’d rather have your old Gonzaga with her burnt fingers than—­what has happened?”

The priest approached and, hastily casting a side glance at the burgomaster’s wife, exclaimed: 

“She speaks through her nose, and Fraulein Henrica said just now it made her ache to hear her talk; I must keep her away.”