The spectators and the players were crowding together, and a cry rang through the obscurity. Through the hasty movements of the powerful man who had seized the Count, one man had fallen to the ground, dragging another down with him. The latter clutched at the tablecloth, and it was pulled off, money and cards being strewn over the floor, people flinging themselves upon it. Suddenly the electric lights went out, but Dr. Mabuse, who had waited for the cry from the dark corner, rushed to the fainting Countess, lifted her in his arms and with one spring bore her under the palms and out into the garden under the moonlight, through the shrubbery and to the wall leading to the street. He lifted her over, and from the other side someone helped him with his burden. An instant later a car was stealing swiftly down the street. “The northern and southern hemispheres,” he shouted aloud furiously during the drive. “Now I hold you both!” The Xenienstrasse was empty. The car came to a sudden standstill. He carried the Countess, still unconscious, into his house. XII Scarcely heeding the abuse and scorn heaped upon him by the crowd, out of the chaos and confusion of the contemptuous glances of others and his own feeling of perplexity, Count Told stole, as if in a dream, towards the vestibule. He thought of his wife, but he had not the courage to look round for or inquire about her. His car stood before the door, and the chauffeur was about to start the engine when the Count made a gesture of denial, saying, “Wait for the Countess!” He went into the town and hired the first taxi he saw to drive him home. “What has happened to me?” was the question that he perpetually put to himself. “What was it that overcame me? Who moved my hand?... What is it that has happened? I know nothing about it. Can it be merely a bad dream?” But it was no dream. He reached his house and had to descend. He went down the length of the garden and into the house. The footman took his coat, and the Count went to the room where he and his wife, whenever they had been out together, were wont to spend a short time before going to bed, in exchanging the experiences the evening had afforded. He always looked forward eagerly to these moments. To-night he was alone there. “Where can my wife be?” he asked himself, astonished and yet unconscious. So many tender memories clung to this room, and he felt disappointed that in this dreadful hour she was not by his side. It was the first painful experience of his existence. But all at once it became clear to him that she must have sundered herself from him, and he realized that by that inexpressibly strange occurrence at the gaming-table in the Wendel mansion he had covered himself with mire. It clung fast to him, and he thought, “Lucy must leave me. She must remain away until I have purified myself.” But how was he to accomplish the task?