“I listen. She barks, and suddenly I can distinguish nothing more than the rustle of the snow. * * * * * “Lerne dragged me about by the hair. It required all my belief in his promise, and all his assurance of a glorious future, to stop me from running away that very day. “But, having caught me deceiving him, he only loved me the more ardently. “Days passed. I hardly dared hope that Macbeth had got off as easily as Klotz--and been sent away. Neither he nor his dog appeared again. “At last the Professor ordered me to get ready the Yellow Room for the Scot. “‘Is he alive, then?’ I asked without reflection. “‘Only half,’ said Lerne, ‘he is mad. This is the sad result of your folly, Emma. First of all he thought himself God Almighty, then the Tower of London. At present he thinks he’s a dog. To-morrow he will suffer from some other delusion, no doubt.’ “‘What have you done to him?’ I cried out. “‘Little girl,’ said the Professor, ‘nothing has been done to him, just you remember that, and bite your tongue if you ever think of gossiping. When I carried off Macbeth after our struggle in the dining-room, it was so that I might look after him. You saw he fainted. He injured his head badly in his fall. That caused a lesion, and then madness. That was all, you understand?’ “I said nothing more, because I was certain that if your uncle had not put an end to Donovan, his only motive was fear of the family, and the law. “That evening they brought him back to the _château_--his head all wrapped in bandages. He did not recognize me. “I still loved him, and I visited him secretly. “He got better quickly. Being shut up made him put on fat. The Macbeth of the photograph, and the Macbeth of the Yellow Room, became very unlike each other, so much so, that you did not recognize him at first.” “But tell me--you do not know anything about Klotz? What did my uncle do with him? You said a moment ago he had been sent away.” “I was always certain he had been sent away. His behavior when he left, and that of Lerne when he came back from Germany, made me feel sure of it.” “Has he a family?” “I think he is an orphan, and a bachelor.” “How long did Macbeth remain in the laboratory?” “About three weeks or a month.” “Was his hair always fair, before this happened?” I asked, still riding my hobby-horse. She said, “Certainly, what an idea!” “And what did they do with Nell?” “The day after the quarrel, I heard her howling loudly, no doubt because they had separated her from her master. “According to your uncle, whom I asked about it, she was with other dogs, in a kennel. ‘Her right place,’ added Lerne. She got out of it the other night--perhaps you heard her. “Poor Nell, how quickly she found out Macbeth was gone. She often howls at night-time. Her life is not happy.” “Tell me the end of it,” I said. “What is at the bottom of it? What is the truth? Do you believe in the madness which resulted from the fall?”