So it seemed. Judith's eyes were closed and her head bent low on her heaving bosom. But she mastered her weakness and arose. "I must speak to him." "With Jan--shall I fetch him?" Judith shook her head and moved on. But her knees shook so that she would have fallen had not Hamia supported her. "For God's sake," cried the girl, "what is the matter? Where do you wish to go?" "Give me your arm," said Judith, and they went to the servants' hall. The door of the large, low room stood wide open. Jan was by the table, opposite him the stranger, whose knavish face, with his short cropped hair, peered curiously out of the monk's hood. The false beard was on the floor by the side of a broken bottle. The poor faithful servant had just emptied his money-bag on the table, and the tears rolled down his cheeks. "Here are all my savings," he sobbed. "Two hundred and four gulden. They will take you home, and the count will give you what you want. But go, for God's sake, go! The poor thing must not find it out." Judith entered. "Thank you, Jan. But I wish to speak with the man in private." The poor fellow staggered backward. "My most gracious countess," he moaned, "he lies! he lies!" "Go," she repeated, "or I shall not be able to stand it." Weeping bitterly, he crept out of doors, and motioned Hamia away, who was plaguing him with questions. "We must watch her day and night, for the lake is close at hand." The conversation lasted but a few minutes. Then Tondka came slinking out with the beard in his hand. "Really, Herr Jan, I am downright sorry for her. But I am to send you in. She has something for you to do." Jan entered the room. Judith was sitting on a bench by the table. "Take this," she said, giving him a key. "Open the safe in my room, and give the man the three hundred francs I have promised him. Then send Hamia here." The girl, who arrived a minute after, found her mistress senseless on the floor. It was a deep swoon. The doctor, who was called by Jan, remained until late in the night, seemingly very anxious. "Brain fever is threatening," he said, when leaving. "I am afraid the case will be a serious one." He was mistaken, for when he came the following day he found his patient out of bed. She had aged suddenly, and looked like a shadow, and it shocked him greatly to see silver threads among her auburn tresses. "My dear madam, I do not know what has happened, but I hope you will remember you are a mother." "I assure you I will not forget it," and she thanked him for his sympathy. He left her with a quiet mind. Hamia was relieved, too, when she heard her mistress talking as sensibly and reasonably as ever. Only Jan was suspicious. He feared it would not end well, and prayed all day long that God would preserve the balance of her mind. His anxiety was still greater when she sent for him in the evening, and said: "You were about to sacrifice your savings for me. Since you love me that much, will you lend them to me if I ask you?"