"You have no further need of my aid," the doctor rejoined upon this promise, "unless you should feel any pain again, when I beg you to send for me. Nevertheless, I hope to see you frequently on the balcony. I come to the Post every evening and drink my glass of wine, either there or in the inn parlour. I have the honour to bid you good-morning." With a more graceful obeisance than would have been thought possible for his clumsy figure he took his leave, without having made the faintest allusion to the previous evening. He had reached the door when he turned once more. "I shall surely have the pleasure of seeing the gentlemen on the balcony to-night?" he asked. "Certainly, Herr Doctor," Delmar replied. "Why should you not?" "Why not, indeed? Still, let me confess frankly that I rather feared I might have offended the gentlemen yesterday evening. For several days past I have had a tightness about my head,--a rush of blood to the brain,--which was of course aggravated by the intense heat and the unwonted exertion of my ascent to the castle. I may also have taken a glass or two more of wine than usual. I was, I am ashamed to confess, but it cannot be denied, stupidly intoxicated, not from excess, but from feeble health. At this very moment I fear a recurrence of the same rush of blood to the head. I must have talked all sorts of nonsense yesterday evening, and perhaps I offended you. Whether this be so or not I cannot say, for I have not the slightest remembrance of what occurred. In any case I pray you to excuse me, and not to avoid the balcony for fear of similar scenes. It shall not occur again." "You did not offend us, Herr Doctor," Paul declared. "I did not? That reassures me, and I may then hope to see you again this evening." He bowed once more; and as he did so his face grew purple, and when he would have grasped the handle of the door he had to feel for it twice, like a blind man. His step too as he went out was strangely unsteady. "Can he be intoxicated again so early in the morning?" Kuno whispered. "I think not, he spoke so quietly and sensibly. Remember how differently he behaved last evening. No, I think he really is ill now." Paul walked to the window whence he could overlook the path the doctor must take to the village. Several minutes passed before he came out of the Post, but then he turned directly into the road to his house, walking very slowly, and staggering at every step. A peasant meeting him nodded familiarly, and then looked after him with a laugh. "He must be drunk after all," said Paul, "or he is still feeling the effects of yesterday's debauch. Can he really have forgotten all he talked about last evening?" "It would certainly seem so."