"No, I can reassure you; it is only a sprain. If Herr von Herwarth is a docile patient all will be right in a couple of weeks; if not, I cannot say when the foot will be well again. For two weeks you must not use the foot at all. You ought to lie in bed. But this would I suppose be asking too much, and I will allow you to recline on the sofa, begging you upon no account to touch the injured foot to the floor. If you will follow my directions, I will promise that you shall walk again in two weeks, and that after a month you will hardly remember the injury." "Am I not to walk for two weeks?" Kuno asked. "Not for two weeks. I will not assume any responsibility in the matter unless my orders are strictly obeyed." "They shall be obeyed. I will answer for it," Delmar interposed. To his own surprise, he found himself agreeably impressed by the doctor's manner. "A patient is not an individual, but a case; he should have no will of his own. I will take care of him. I shall see life from a new point of view. I will enact my part of nurse well. It will be a fresh sensation in this everlasting monotony. Do not be anxious about this amiable young fellow, doctor. He shall obey orders, put on bandages, hobble or sit still, just as you command." "Excellent! Then I will answer for the result," the doctor said. "I see that my patient is in good hands. I may leave him. To-morrow afternoon I will come again and bandage the ankle. Until then, farewell!" CHAPTER XI. Dr. Putzer yawned and stretched his huge limbs as he left Herwarth's room and the door was closed behind him. In a sick-room and in intercourse with strangers he was a different man from the Dr. Putzer of private life. Towards a patient and with those whose rank in life was superior to his own and with whom he had not yet become familiar, he displayed a gentle courtesy which was entirely foreign to his usual manner, and which was quite attractive. Whenever he pleased he could thus assume the air and bearing of a man of refinement and culture; but as soon as he was left to himself, or to his daily associates, he threw off all such self-restraint and took no pains to conceal his innate coarseness of nature. He descended the stairs, which creaked beneath his heavy tread, and opening the door of the parlour, called, in thundering tones, "Nannerl! Where the deuce is the lazy hussy! A half-measure of red!" he added, as the maid came hurrying from the kitchen. "And send the landlord here. I have something to say to him." As he finished he pinched the girl's red cheek with an ugly leer and laughed coarsely as she recoiled from his familiarity. Then turning into the parlour he settled himself comfortably in his usual position,--leaning back in one of the large strong chairs, with his feet on another of them.