Maurus Jokai - The Nameless Castle

Several minutes afterward, the gates of the Nameless Castle opened, and there came forth a veiled lady, who clung with one hand to the arm of a tall man, and carried a lantern in the other. Her companion held over her, to protect her from the pouring rain, a large red umbrella, and steadied his steps in the slippery mud with a stout walking-stick. The lady walked so rapidly that her companion with difficulty kept pace with her.

Dr. Tromfszky had just returned from a visum repertum in a criminal case, and had concluded that he would go to bed so soon as he had finished his supper. The rain fell in torrents on the roof, and rushed through the gutters with a roaring noise.

“Now just let any one send again for me this night!” he exclaimed, when his housekeeper came to remove the remnants of cheese from the supper-table. “I wouldn’t go—not if the primate himself got a fish-bone fast in his throat; no, not for a hundred ducats. I swear it!”

At that moment there came a knock at the street door, and a very peremptory one, too.

“There! didn’t I know some one would take it into his head to let the devil fetch him to-night? Go to the door, Zsuzsa, and tell them that I have a pain in my foot—that I have just applied a poultice, and can’t walk.”

Frau Zsuzsa, with the kitchen lamp in her hand, waddled into the corridor. After inquiring the second time through the door, “Who is it?” and the one outside had answered: “It is I,” she became convinced, from the musical feminine tone, that it was not the notorious robber, Satan Laczi, who was seeking admittance.

Then she opened the door a few inches, and said:

“The Herr Doctor can’t go out any more to-night; he has gone to bed, and is poulticing his foot.”

The door was open wide enough to admit a delicate feminine hand, which pressed into the housekeeper’s palm a little heap of money. By the light of the lamp Frau Zsuzsa recognized the shining silver coins, and the door was opened its full width.

When she saw before her the veiled lady she became quite complaisant. Curiosity is a powerful lever.

“I humbly beg your ladyship to enter.”

“Please tell the doctor the lady from the Nameless Castle wishes to see him.”

Frau Zsuzsa placed the lamp on the kitchen table, and left the visitors standing in the middle of the floor.

“Well, what were you talking about so long out yonder?” demanded the doctor, when she burst into his study.

“Make haste and put on your coat again; the veiled lady from the Nameless Castle is here.”

“What? Well, that is an event!” exclaimed the doctor, hurriedly thrusting his arms into the sleeves of his coat. “Is the count with her?”

“No; the groom accompanied her.”

These magic words, “the veiled lady,” had more influence on the doctor than any imaginable number of ducats.

At last he was to behold the mythological appearance—yes, and even hear her voice!

“Show her ladyship into the guest-chamber, and take a lamp in there,” he ordered, following quickly, after he had adjusted his cravat in front of the looking-glass.

Then she stood before him—the mysterious woman. Her face was veiled as usual. Behind her stood the groom, with whose appearance every child in the village was familiar.

“Herr Doctor,” stammered the young girl, so faintly that it was difficult to tell whether it was the voice of a child, a young or an old woman, “I beg that you will come with me at once to the castle; the gentleman is very seriously ill.”

“Certainly; I am delighted!—that is, I am not delighted to hear of the worshipful gentleman’s illness, but glad that I am fortunate enough to be of service to him. I shall be ready in a few moments.”

“Oh, pray make haste.”

“The carriage will take us to the castle in five minutes, your ladyship.”

“But we did not come in a carriage; we walked.”

Only now the doctor noticed that the lady’s gown was thickly spattered with mud.

“What? Came on foot in such weather—all the way from the Nameless Castle? and your ladyship has a carriage and horses?”

“Cannot you come with us on foot, Herr Doctor?”

“I should like very much to accompany your ladyship; but really, I have rheumatismus acutus in my foot, and were I to get wet I should certainly have an ischias .”

Marie lifted her clasped hands in despair to her lips, but the beseeching expression on her face was hidden by the heavy veil. Could the doctor have seen the tearful eyes, the trembling lips!

Seeing that her voiceless petition was in vain, Marie drew from her bosom a silken purse, and emptied the contents, gold, silver, and copper coins, on the table.

“Here,” she exclaimed proudly. “I have much more money like this, and will reward you richly if you will come with me.”

The doctor was amazed. There on the table lay more gold than the whole county could have mustered in these days of paper notes. Truly these people were not to be despised.

“If only it did not rain so heavily—”

“I will let you take my umbrella.”

“Thanks, your ladyship; I have one of my own.”

“Then let us start at once.”

“But my foot—it pains dreadfully.”

“We can easily arrange that. Henry, here, is a very strong man; he will take you on his shoulders, and bring you back from the castle in the carriage.”

There were no further objections to be offered when Henry, with great willingness, placed his broad shoulders at the doctor’s service.

The doctor hastily thrust what was necessary into a bag, locked the money Marie had given him in a drawer, bade Frau Zsuzsa remain awake until he returned, and clambered on Henry’s back. In one hand he held his umbrella, in the other the lantern; and thus the little company took their way to the castle—the “double man” in advance, the little maid following with her umbrella.

The doctor had sufficient cause to be excited. What usurious gossip-interest might be collected from such a capitol! Dr. Tromfszky already had an enviable reputation in the county, but what would it become when it became known that he was physician in ordinary to the Nameless Castle?

The rain was not falling so heavily when they arrived at the castle.

Marie and Henry at once conducted the doctor to Ludwig’s chamber. Henry first thrust his head cautiously through the partly open door, then whispered that his master was still tossing deliriously about on the bed; whereupon the doctor summoned courage to enter the room. His first act was to snuff the candle, the wick having become so charred it scarcely gave any light. He could now examine the invalid’s face, which was covered with a burning flush. His eyes rolled wildly. He had not removed his clothes, but had torn them away from his breast.

“H’m! h’m!” muttered the doctor, searching in his bag for his bloodletting instruments. Then he approached the bed, and laid his fingers on the invalid’s pulse.

At the touch of his cold hand the patient suddenly sat upright and uttered a cry of terror:

“Who are you?”

“I am the doctor—the county physician—Dr. Tromfszky. Pray, Herr Count, let me see your tongue.”

Instead of his tongue, the count exhibited a powerful fist.

“What do you want here? Who brought you here?” he demanded.

“Pray, pray be calm, Herr Count,” soothingly responded the doctor, who was inclined to look upon this aggressive exhibition as a result of the fever. “Allow me to examine your pulse. We have here a slight paroxysm that requires medical aid. Come, let me feel your pulse; one, two—”

The count snatched his wrist from the doctor’s grasp, and cried angrily: