"Nonsense!" he said, harshly; "if and how you can convince her is your own affair; but don't attempt supervision. I have my own experiences of that sort of thing. And if it succeeded, it would only be verifying the manner of her death. For if she did not die in the pond, she would in her bed. There is no such thing, my dear sir, as a broken heart; it is only to be found in novels. But there is such a thing as consumptive fever. I saw Judith six weeks ago, and now again, and I can assure you she is in a fair way for it. As affects my conscience, the difference in the manner of death would not be considerable, but I must leave to you which you prefer to adopt." He opened his medicine-chest, and began to prepare a drink. The count sighed profoundly. "Dear Dr. Reiser, you judge me severely. A man like you ought to know life. These affairs rarely end tragically. I assure you I look at my duties to Judith very seriously. But a marriage would be a moral suicide. That you must acknowledge." The doctor turned around sharply and looked into the count's face. It was very gloomy. "I admit it. But can one commit a physical murder to save one's self from moral suicide?" "What am I to do?" groaned the young man. Dr. Reiser shrugged his shoulders. "Choose that which seems easiest. Consider the case--you look ill--go and have a sleep. I will be guarantee for tonight. Good-night." He passed into the sick-room. Agenor gazed after him, sighing deeply, and then went into his bedroom, where he threw himself on a sofa, in the dark. There he remained for an hour, racking his brain--murder or suicide--was there, indeed, no third alternative? A knock on the door aroused him thoroughly. It was the butler. "Herr von Wroblewski wishes to know if you will speak to him to-day. If not, he will go to bed." In his trouble he had forgotten this man--a scoundrel who had always given him evil counsel, yet who was in the matter his only confidant, and for this reason he had turned to him this morning in his helplessness. "I will come," he hastily answered. He found his guest in the dining-room on the ground-floor. The latter had enjoyed the meal which had been served, and was now comfortably stretched out, with wine and cigars. "Excuse me," the count began. "Pray, pray don't mention it. You have heavy cares just now. I only sent for you because I am really somewhat tired. Just sit down and let me know how I can help you. You must surely see that I am your friend. 'Pon my honor, it was not easy to leave my office and family to come here. But have courage, and tell me." "Thanks. What happened here this morning--"