Wenk continued his patrol throughout the whole of the spring night, but nothing happened, and he noticed nothing out of the common. Next morning he repaired to the hotel at Lindau, the address of which he had notified before leaving Munich. The director told him he had been rung up from Munich, and his man wanted him to know that Count Told most earnestly desired to speak to him as soon as possible. The call had come from his home at Munich. He seemed to be greatly agitated, and begged the man to telephone the message on. Wenk returned to Munich and rang up the Count, but an unfamiliar voice informed him that the Count had started on a journey. “Did he leave no message for me?” said Wenk. “No.” “Where has he gone?” “He left no address. Please ring off.” Wenk was thoroughly perplexed. XV That same morning Mabuse had visited Told. “You are not so well, I can see,” said he to him. “Your pupils are very much dilated.” “Is that a sign...?” said Told hesitatingly. “Yes. Don’t talk about your state; put it entirely out of your head. Where is your wife?” The startled Count could not venture on an answer. “Your wife did not want to live with you any more--never any more!” went on the Doctor harshly. “That is so, isn’t it? You must destroy the past, break off all relation to it. Call your man here!” Told rang, and the man came. The Count, with a gesture, referred him to the doctor. “Has anybody telephoned?” “No, Doctor.” “Has anyone rung up from here?” “I did,” answered Told. “Whom?” “Dr. von Wenk.” “Why?” “I wanted to speak to him.” “What did you want to say?” The embarrassed Count answered, “Only ... to speak ... to speak to some human being or other!” “Is your servant a bullock, then, or am I one?” asked Mabuse harshly. “You can talk to me if you want to. What crazy idea has got into your head?” The Count turned his head away; he no longer had the courage to face his doctor.... “Is he going to cure me?” he asked himself. Then he looked up at him timidly and irresolutely. “You are no human being: you are a devil!” was the secret cry of his heart, but these fierce thoughts soon left him, and he felt suddenly sleepy. “I am always so tired!” he exclaimed. “Tell your man now, in my presence, to refuse all visitors or anyone who telephones. He must say, ‘The Count has gone on a journey. He left no address. Please ring off.’” Slowly and mechanically Told repeated the order, and the man bowed and withdrew. “I am really not sure whether I shall go on with your case,” said Mabuse. But Told hardly heeded him; he seemed to feel a slow poison stealing into his veins. “You are thirsty!” said Mabuse, suddenly. “Yes, I am,” whispered the Count.