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Page 10
The little man went out, and Gideon, after taking off his cape, left us
to go and inform the young countess of my arrival.
I was rather overpowered with the attentions of Marie Lagoutte.
"Give up that place of yours, S�balt," she cried to the kennel-keeper.
"You are roasted enough by this time. Sit near the fire, monsieur le
docteur; you must have very cold feet. Stretch out your legs; that's the
way."
Then, holding out her snuff-box to me--
"Do you take snuff?"
"No, dear madam, with many thanks."
"That is a pity," she answered, filling both nostrils. "It is the most
delightful habit."
She slipped her snuff-box back into her apron pocket, and went on--
"You are come not a bit too soon. Monseigneur had his second attack
yesterday; it was an awful attack, was it not, Monsieur Offenloch?"
"Furious indeed," answered the head butler gravely.
"It is not surprising," she continued, "when a man takes no nourishment.
Fancy, monsieur, that for two days he has never tasted broth!"
"Nor a glass of wine," added the major-domo, crossing his hands over his
portly, well-lined person.
As it seemed expected of me, I expressed my surprise, on which Tobias
Offenloch came to sit at my right hand, and said--
"Doctor, take my advice; order him a bottle a day of Marcobrunner."
"And," chimed in Marie Lagoutte, "a wing of a chicken at every meal. The
poor man is frightfully thin."
"We have got Marcobrunner sixty years in bottle," added the major-domo,
"for it is a mistake of Madame Offenloch's to suppose that the French
drank it all. And you had better order, while you are about it, now and
then, a good bottle of Johannisberg. That is the best wine to set a man
up again."
"Time was," remarked the master of the hounds in a dismal voice--"time
was when monseigneur hunted twice a week; then he was well; when he left
off hunting, then he fell ill."
"Of course it could not be otherwise," observed Marie Lagoutte. "The open
air gives you an appetite. The doctor had better order him to hunt three
times a week to make up for lost time."
"Two would be enough," replied the man of dogs with the same gravity;
"quite enough. The hounds must have their rest. Dogs have just as much
right to rest as we have."
There was a few moments' silence, during which I could hear the wind
beating against the window-panes, and rush, sighing and wailing, through
the loopholes into the towers.
S�balt sat with legs across, and his elbow resting on his knee, gazing
into the fire with unspeakable dolefulness. Marie Lagoutte, after having
refreshed herself with a fresh pinch, was settling her snuff into shape
in its box, while I sat thinking on the strange habit people indulge in
of pressing their advice upon those who don't want it.
At this moment the major-domo rose.
"Will you have a glass of wine, doctor?" said he, leaning over the back
of my arm-chair.
"Thank you, but I never drink before seeing a patient."
"What! not even one little glass?"
"Not the smallest glass you could offer me."
He opened his eyes wide and looked with astonishment at his wife.
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