Added to this anxiety, which drove the old doctor daily to the Hellingers' house, came his growing uneasiness about Robert who, since that disastrous hour, had fallen a prey to blank, despairing lethargy. He seemed absolutely deprived of the power of speech, would endure no one near him, and even taciturnly shunned and avoided him, his old friend; by day he roamed about in the fields, by night he sat by his child's cot, and stared down upon it with burning, reddened eyes. So said the servants, who three times had found him in the morning in this position. V. The lights round Olga's coffin had burnt down. The guests, who for so long had surrounded the bier in solemn silence, began to move to and fro, and to look round for refreshments. Mrs. Hellinger, who was receiving condolences, and at the same time, with a great profusion of tears and pocket handkerchiefs, extolling the virtues of the deceased, suddenly, in the midst of her grief, proved herself an attentive and liberal hostess. The guests gave a sigh of relief when the doors of the dining-room were thrown open, and from the resplendent table a sweet odour of roast meats, _compôtes_ and herring salad greeted them. Mr. Hellinger, senior, praised the Lord, and with a few privileged friends, drank the specially fine claret which he set before them in honour of the occasion. They were not yet agreed whether an innocent game of cards would be disparaging to the general mourning, and decided to send delegates to the hostess to obtain her permission. There was plenty of life and bustle in the Hellingers' house--one might have imagined one were at a wedding. The physician, who dropped in late upon this merry company, looked about anxiously for Robert. He was nowhere to be seen. Thereupon he took one of the guests aside and inquired after him. Yes, he had been there, had looked about him with startled eyes, and had silently moved aside when any one wanted to shake hands with him. But after a very few minutes his disappearance had been noticed. The physician went into the entrance-hall, and hunted among the guests' wraps for Robert's cloak. It was lying there yet. With the freedom of an old friend of the family, he then commenced his search through the back rooms of the house, which were quiet and deserted; for the servants were busy waiting at table. In a narrow, dark chamber, where disused furniture was piled up, he found him sitting on an overturned wooden case, brooding with his head in his hands. "Robert, my boy, what are you doing here?" he cried out to him. He raised his head slowly and said, "I suppose there are merry goings-on in the other part of the house?" The physician laid his hands on his shoulders: "I am anxious about you, my boy. Since three days you grudge a word to any of us; you are on the road to madness, if you go on like this."