"Ah! my God! Herr Baron, it is terrible, the poor countess is dreadfully bad, they have sent for the father-confessor, and also for you, sir:" and he then hastened away to let the countess know of Stielow's arrival. He walked up and down the room with large strides, grief and despair upon his face. The count stood calm and motionless, his hand supported on the back of a chair. After a few moments Countess Frankenstein appeared, she was pale and exhausted, her eyes wearied with watching and red with weeping. She glanced with surprise at the count, whom she had seen once or twice in society, and whose presence at that moment was inexplicable to her. Stielow hastened up to her, seized her hand impatiently, and exclaimed in a trembling voice, "For God's sake! how is she? How is Clara?" "Compose yourself, my dear Stielow," said the countess calmly, though with a slight sob in her voice, "the hand of the Lord has smitten us heavily; if He does not work a miracle, we must lose her!" And she broke down and wept quietly. "But my God! how can it be? what did the doctor say?" cried the young man, with a look of bewildered horror. "What is this wound?" "Clara must have touched some dead soldier, the poison from some deadly wound has got into her blood, there is scarcely a hope of saving her," she said in a low voice. "I must go to her, I must see her!" cried von Stielow wildly. "Her confessor is with her," said the countess, "telling her of comfort and resignation; let her first be reconciled to God!" And raising her head, she regained her composure with a violent effort, and cast an inquiring look at the count, who stood by in silence. His eyes had flashed with anger when the countess had explained the medical opinion of the nature of Clara's illness, but he had then raised them in joyful thankfulness to heaven. As the looks of the countess rested upon him he came forward with the self-possession of a man of the world, and after bowing slightly he said:-- "You will recollect me, countess, though I have only had the honour of meeting you once or twice. I think Herr von Stielow will permit me to call myself his friend; he told me of the alarming illness that has attacked the young countess, and I offered to use the medical knowledge I acquired in earlier years on her behalf, before I knew the nature of her injury. I have now heard the dreadful danger she is in, and if you can trust me so far, I beg your permission to apply a remedy which I promise shall, God willing, be successful." The countess listened in the greatest surprise. "You, count, a physician?" she enquired. "A physician from inclination," he replied, "but not a worse one than many who make it their profession." The countess looked at him and hesitated. "I implore you, for God's sake, let the count make the attempt," cried von Stielow, "we must accept any help,--my God, my God, I cannot lose her!"