"Blood, blood, blood!" sang Berengar. "Othomar is dying! Yes, he always gives me so many nice things, does Othomar. I have so many already, many more than all the other children of Liparia put together! And what am I to have now?... Still more?... That nice thing: what is it? I can feel it: it's so heavy; but I can't see it...." The doctor had come from the anteroom and approached with the poultices. "I can't see it!... I can't see it!..." the boy sang out, painfully and faintly. When the doctor applied the poultices, Berengar struggled, began to cry, as though a great sorrow was springing up in his little heart: "I can't see it!" he sobbed. "I shall never see it!..." A violent paroxysm succeeded the sobbing: he struck out wildly with his arms, pulled off the poultices, threw the ice off his head, stood up mad-eyed in his bed, flung away the sheets.... Othomar rose, the empress also. The emperor sat in a chair, his face covered with his hands, and sobbed by Princess Thera's side. The doctors approached the bed, endeavoured to calm Berengar, but he struck them: the fever mounted into his little brain in madness. At this moment Professor Barzia entered: he was not staying in the palace; he had been sent for at his hotel. "What is your highness doing here?" he said, point-blank, to Othomar. The crown-prince made no reply. "Your highness will retire to your own rooms at once," the professor commanded. "Save my boy!" exclaimed the emperor, broken, sobbing. "I am saving the crown-prince first, sir: he is killing himself here!" "Very well, but next save _him!_" shouted Oscar, fiercely. The other doctors had given orders: a tub was brought in, filled with lukewarm water, regulated by a thermometer.... But Othomar saw no more: he rushed away, driven out by Barzia's stern glances. He rushed along the corridors, through a group of officers and chamberlains, who stood anxiously whispering and made way for him. He plunged into his own room, which was not lighted. In the dark, he thought he was flinging himself upon a couch, but bumped upon the ground. There he remained lying. Then, as though crushed by the darkness, he began to croon, to moan, to sob aloud, with sharp, hysterical cries. Andro entered; his foot struck against the prince. He lit the gas, tried to lift his master. But Othomar lay heavy as lead; fierce and prolonged, his nervous cries came jolting from his throat. Andro rang, once, twice, three times; he went on ringing for a long time; at last a footman and a chamberlain appeared together, at different doors. "Call Professor Barzia!" cried Andro to the footman. "Excellency, will you help me lift his highness?" he begged the chamberlain. But, when the footman turned round, he ran against the professor, who could do nothing for the little prince and had followed the crown-prince. He saw Othomar lying on the floor, moaning, screaming.... "Leave me alone with his highness," he ordered, with a glance around him.