He had to make up for the sleep he had lost in the night; thus three, four hours went by without his waking. At length one of the attendants, to whom the matter began to look rather odd, stepped up and discovered who it was. However, he had altogether too much respect for the artist to disturb his sleep before the time came for closing the gallery. Jansen sprang to his feet, asked what time it was, and was startled to find how many hours he had lost. He left the gallery in great haste, and hurried to the hotel. The countess was too unwell to receive any visits today, the porter told him. Jansen shrugged his shoulders, growled out a few unintelligible words, and began to mount the stairs without paying any further heed to this answer. Up-stairs he received a similar reply from the countess's maid, who met him in the corridor. "Take this card to the countess. I regret to disturb her, but it is absolutely necessary that I speak with her." The girl took the card, acted as though the name which she read on it was perfectly unknown to her, and then remarked: "Just at this moment it is really quite impossible for the countess to receive you. The doctor is with her and is renewing the bandages. That always gives her such pain that she is forced to lie perfectly still for two or three hours after the operation, unless she would have convulsions. Perhaps, if you would be good enough to call again toward evening--" Jansen gave the tricky girl a look that confused even her brazen face. "I am convinced, my good girl, that you are lying to me in the most cold-blooded manner possible; the doctor is not with your mistress, nor does she need repose. I have a great mind to thrust you aside and quietly make my way in for myself. But, in order that your mistress may be convinced that I am entirely courteous, I will act as though I really believed you, and call again in a few hours. But then--" and he raised his voice a little, in case there should be any one behind the door, listening to the conversation--"then I shall expect that the nerves of the countess will have nothing to say against my requesting a ten minutes' interview. It is now two o'clock. At four I shall take the liberty of knocking again at this door." "Perhaps it is just as well," he said, as he went down the stairs. "I have eaten nothing since yesterday evening. An empty stomach goes badly with diplomatic negotiations. And I want to keep as cool as possible."