“Do you know any thing temporal of greater consequence than matrimonial engagements, or any relation more likely to have effect upon what you seem to think the priest has a legitimate right to meddle with?” “I do not believe the priest interfered.” “I know he did.” “You _know_?” “It is most natural that he should have done it. And now permit me to suggest still further, that while you owe the lessons which Louise gave you to the good father, you owe the reformation which you commenced to the remains of religious instruction in your heart. Undoubtedly it was your love to Louise that gave her influence over you, but it was religion that made her efforts successful.” “You confuse me—I do not assent, but I cannot now contend.” “I will leave you—leave you with this single remark, that not only did you owe your former reformation to religion, but there is religion now dealing with your heart, and your affection for Louise will return with the ready admission of religious instruction and the performance of religious duties.” “I think I love her now as well as ever.” “Then I shall hear more to-morrow of your experience.” The night was one of nervous irritability, and poor Adolph presented to the surgeon the next morning, one of the worst cases of relapse in the hospital, and Klemm was early summoned to the room of his patient. The day was passed in painful aberration of mind, and short unrefreshing sleep. The evening found the sufferer somewhat relieved. “What can I do for you more?” said Klemm, as he smoothed down the pillow after assisting Adolph to acquire a comfortable position. “That voice again!” said Adolph, “and no German.” “I have got clear of my German accent by conversing with you.” “Only at times,” said Adolph. “Can I do nothing more for you?” “Nothing, I believe.—Did you prepare for the priesthood?” “No. I had neither inclination nor vocation.” “I am sorry.” “Adolph you are very sick—sick, less from the pain of your wound than from the tumult of your mind. I am unable to assist you. Let me invite in a clergyman, who is in the hospital.” “Are there any here?” “One. The terrible state of the wounded in some of the wards has compelled the officer to admit a priest.” “Is there contagious disease?” “Yes.” “Do you not fear for yourself?” “_Die vollige Liebe treibet die Furcht aus._” “What’s that?” “Remember the words. I will call in the clergyman.” And before Adolph could either consent or refuse Klemm had left the room. In a short time a priest entered the chamber of Adolph, and proceeded to make himself acquainted with the state of his penitent’s mind, and then to attend to the duties of his sick call. Adolph was calm and settled when Klemm returned, but not communicative. Klemm then announced his departure a duty, and the fact that Adolph would, as soon as his strength would permit, be allowed to return home.