day,
hardly four weeks after the death of Bianca, it was commonly supposed
that the place was unoccupied. Commonly supposed: for once in a while
the knocker was heard when Herr Winckler called, happy childish laughter
floated out from the open window, or Frau Schimmel was seen with her
basket on her arm going to market.

But no one ever met the doctor, neither at mass nor in the street, and
yet he did not always remain at home.

In summer at sunrise he went to the churchyard, and from there into the
woods; in winter, when the first stars appeared, he wrapped himself in
his black cloak and went to Bianca's grave, and thence to one of the
neighbouring villages, but he never entered anywhere, and only the
sexton who admitted him to the graveyard, and the gate watchman, who
opened the burgher's wicket to him, ever exchanged greetings with him.

At home he wandered around no longer, idle and fasting, but ate his
meals regularly, and threw himself into his work with such passionate
energy, that even the industrious Schimmel found it too much, and Frau
Schimmel grew anxious. The latter, too, knew what the doctor hoped to
accomplish by his hard work, for she had spied upon him, but she must
not be blamed as it had been with the most praiseworthy intention.

Four weeks after Bianca's death, and after he had shed many hot and
heart-felt tears, Melchior turned for the first time to his work again.

It happened late in the evening, and before he went into the laboratory
he uttered such strange words over the sleeping child that Frau
Schimmel, who was watching beside it, was frightened, especially as
Schimmel had not been called to aid the doctor, and what might happen
to the distraught man, if he were left to work alone, passed in gloomy
visions before the old lady. So she concealed herself behind the bellows
that were attached to the furnace, and there she was witness of events
that sent cold shivers down her back whenever she thought of them.

In his best holiday costume of black velvet puffed with silk he entered
the laboratory, holding himself very erect. The high, arched room was
only dimly lighted by a hanging-lamp, but when Frau Schimmel heard his
steps she shrank together till, as she fancied, she must have become
smaller and less easily discoverable. What she feared was that he might
start the furnace and she should be obliged to reveal herself because of
the heat.

But to her great relief he walked straight into t