Upon Paul's entrance the invalid raised himself into a half-sitting posture and turned his face full towards his visitor. "I have been longing for you for many days, Herr Delmar," he said, in a faint, scarce audible voice. "You are come at last, and I thank you. I was afraid I should never see you again." Was this Dr. Putzer? Delmar never could have believed it from the evidence of his senses. There was absolutely no resemblance between the wine-flushed bloated countenance which Paul remembered and this ashy-pale flabby face, save for the light disordered hair that fell on either side of it. And just as little did the invalid's weak gentle voice resemble Dr. Putzer's hoarse brutal tones. Delmar was so shocked and startled by the alteration he observed in the man that he could at first find no words in which to reply to his salutation. The doctor continued: "Sit here, Herr Delmar, close by my bed; I have much to say, and not much strength wherewith to say it. I must pray you to lend me your patient attention." Paul obeyed; he drew a chair to the bedside and sat down, filled with pity for the sick man, whose every word evidently cost him a painful effort. His compassion got the better of his desire to hear what the man had to say. "Talking is too much for you, Herr Doctor," he said kindly. "You must not exert yourself I beg you reserve what you have to tell me for another day, when you are stronger and better, and let us discuss only commonplace topics at present. I will pay you a daily visit, and your friend Dr. Atzinger tells me that you will be much stronger and more equal to the task you have imposed upon yourself in a few days." A grim smile, which reminded Paul of the Dr. Putzer of his remembrance, flitted across the pale face. "My dear friend Dr. Atzinger is an ignoramus!" the sick man replied. "I shall never be stronger; I shall shortly be found dead in my bed,--perhaps to-day, perhaps to-morrow,--any time within the next fortnight. I know this with absolute certainty, and therefore I was so impatient to see you, for I must and will speak with you. I will not die without being revenged upon the worthless woman whose fault it is that I lie here a dying man, and who has had no thought except for her own safety. She expected me to die without ever being able to utter another word, and she robbed me of every cent I possess that she might escape danger; but she was mistaken,--I still live, and will use my last breath in revenging myself upon her." The doctor's voice grew stronger and his eyes flashed as he said these words. But the momentary excitement over, he sank back exhausted among his pillows. Paul feared he was dying, and rose hastily to call Dr. Atzinger, but Putzer divined his intention. "Stay," he gasped; "it will pass off,--in a moment I shall be strong enough."