hing besides the
money is required for the undertaking.

"The surveyor, in order to calculate the distances which cannot be
measured by the chain, needs a superior telescope, and such a glass
would cost two or three thousand guilders more. As your lordship is the
owner of a telescope, I take it upon myself to beg the loan of it--if
your lordship can spare it to the surveyor for a short time."

The next day Count Vavel sent his telescope to the parsonage, with the
message that it was a present to the surveyor. Then, that he might not
be again tempted to look out upon the world and its people, the count
closed the tower windows.

PART VI

DEATH AND NEW LIFE IN THE NAMELESS CASTLE

CHAPTER I

Since Count Vavel had ceased to take outdoor exercise, he had renewed
his fencing practice with Henry, who was also an expert swordsman.

In a room on the ground floor of the castle, whence the clashing of
steel could not penetrate to Marie's apartments, the two men, master and
man, would fight their friendly battles twice daily, and with such vigor
that their bodies (as they wore no plastrons) were covered with
scratches and bruises.

One morning the count waited in vain for Henry to make his appearance in
the fencing-hall. It was long past the usual hour for their practice,
and the count, becoming impatient, went in search of the old servant.

The groom's apartment was on the same floor with the kitchen, adjoining
the room occupied by his wife Lisette, the cook.

The door of Henry's room which opened into the corridor was locked; the
count, therefore, passed into the kitchen, where Lisette was preparing
dinner.

"Where is Henry?" he asked of the unwieldy mountain of flesh, topped by
a face as broad and round as the full moon.

"He is in bed," replied Lisette, without looking up from her work.

"Is he ill?"

"I believe he has had a stroke of apoplexy."

She said it with as little emotion as if she had spoken of an underdone
pasty.

The count hastened through Lisette's room to Henry's bedside.

The poor fellow was lying among the pillows; his mouth and one eye were
painfully distorted.

"Henry!" ejaculated the count, in a tone of alarm; "my poor Henry, you
are very ill."

"Ye-es--your--lord-ship," he answered slowly, and with difficulty;
"but--but--I shall soon--soon be--all right--again."

Ludwig lifted the sick man's hand from the coverlet, and felt the pulse.

"Yes, you are very ill indeed, Hen