The doctor started up and, pouring down a last glassful of wine, set out for his home, but his progress thitherward was not of the swiftest, for his gait was unsteady and his head was confused,--he could not collect his senses when he tried to divine whether this message from the castle had any connection with Herr Delmar's arrival at Tausens. The doctor's wife awaited her husband in the arbour, where she had been ever since his departure. She was standing at the entrance looking out for him; but as she saw him approach with a heavy, unsteady gait, she received him with anything but a smile of welcome, and the words, spoken in a tone of profound contempt, "The brute is drunk again!" The doctor was perhaps not entirely unaccustomed to such tender addresses, at all events he did not resent her words, but replied quite humbly, "No, Rosy dear, sober,--perfectly sober,--s'help me God," the thickness of his utterance belying his words. His wife took no notice of his reply, but, with the expression of contempt upon her face intensified, she ordered him harshly, "Go to the brook this instant, and when you are fit to hear it I have a message for you." The doctor ventured no word of remonstrance; with wavering steps he went towards the spot where, to the left of the arbour, a mountain-brook was pouring through a hollow tree into a stone basin in the grass. He held his hot hand under the icy stream and hesitated for a moment, but at the sound of a sharp 'make haste' from the arbour he delayed no longer, but stooped and let the water pour over his head. His breath came in quick, loud pants, his face grew dark purple in hue, and his limbs trembled,--it was a hard ordeal, but he bore the shock bravely, and let the icy water stream over his brow and temples for several minutes. Then he stood erect, and shaking his dishevelled shock of hair like a dog emerging from the water, dried his face with his cotton pocket-handkerchief, and went back to his affectionate wife in the arbour. The cold bath had produced its effect,--his gait was steadier and his head clearer. "Are you sober enough now to understand what is said to you?" "Sober enough; but I shall have a stroke one of these days." "Drink less then, and you will not have to resort to such violent measures to make yourself sober. You are to go to the castle. Herr von Heydeck has sent for you." "I am not his slave; let him wait." "You'd better go to the brook again,--you can't be sober yet." "I am sober, I tell you; but I can't see why I should always dance to his piping. Let him come to me if he wants to talk with me." "You'll never be anything but a blockhead in spite of all your book-learning. Don't you see that we must keep straight with the old man? We are all in the same danger, and must stand together." "What danger?"