Part 13 (2/2)
”That Foligno is no Slav, but an Italian. Believe me, a Slav would be incapable of such villainy. Good-night, Herr Professor.”
CHAPTER XIII.
AN OLD CHEST.
Three very wearisome days ensued. To be sure, I was allowed to leave my bed and was no longer forced to apply cold bandages to my sprained ankle, but I was a prisoner on a very uncomfortable sofa, whereon my leg was stretched out, and therefore condemned to intolerable, tedious idleness. I could not even move sufficiently to prepare my treasures--the b.u.t.terflies and beetles--for my collection. My beautiful _Caecigena_ caterpillars had to be fed by Mizka, and I was obliged to congratulate myself that she undertook what must have been a very humdrum task with amiable readiness.
For three days the doctor had decreed that I must keep a rec.u.mbent position; thereafter I might sit up on the sofa and move about the room a little. I looked forward to the expiration of this time with unfeigned longing, for such enforced idleness is intolerable for a healthy man. Visitors were not lacking during those endless three days.
The gentlemen of Luttach took pains to entertain me, but their visits were more of a pain than a pleasure, for the subject of their conversation was forever the same--the a.s.sured guilt of Franz Schorn.
No one had the least doubt that he was the criminal. The Judge had shown them so many proofs of it that they were almost provoked with me because I would not join in the universal condemnation of the man, but declared that it was our duty to believe in the possibility of his innocence as long as he was not officially condemned. More than this I could not say, after my promise to the doctor, therefore I was compelled to listen silently when the alleged proofs of Schorn's guilt were discussed, which were downright fabrications. I looked forward with some dread to a visit from the Judge. It would have been almost impossible for me to appear unembarra.s.sed in his presence. But the duty of playing the hypocrite and feigning friends.h.i.+p was fortunately not enforced upon me. He not only did not call upon me, but sent an excuse by Mizka. He was forced to go to Gorz for a few days, and had so much to do before his departure that he had not a quarter of an hour to call his own. Upon his return he hoped to find me entirely recovered.
The doctor was irritated by this journey. It deranged his schemes. He wished to have an opportunity to watch the man narrowly, which it would be impossible for him to do in Gorz, the doctor was not, therefore, in a very good humour, and his visits would have contributed but little to my enlivenment had not the charming little Anna always accompanied him.
The lovely young girl crept further and further into my heart with every visit. While we two old men were feverish with impatience to act, she bore this state of anxiety with angelic patience and admirable serenity. She was firm in her pious faith in Divine justice; she was sure that we should succeed in rescuing the innocent and in bringing the guilty to punishment. This conviction made it possible for her to wait patiently.
At last the tiresome three days were over. On the fourth day the doctor gave me permission to sit up on the sofa, and as long as my foot did not pain me, to take several steps about my room. I breathed more freely. Now I could occupy myself. Before my accident I had collected a wealth of material which had all to be arranged. My _Lepidoptera_ were to be mounted, my _Coleoptera_ prepared, some doubtful species named, etc. Thus I had an abundance of work for several days and need fear no ennui.
Of course, I wished to begin work immediately, when an obstacle presented itself which I had never thought of. I had no place to spread out my entomological treasures, or where I could put my boards for mounting the b.u.t.terflies, which were now packed together in my trunk, but would take considerable room when spread out to receive the precious insects. Hitherto I had found the lack of furniture in my simple room not inconvenient, but now it became so. If I could only have a bureau with two or three drawers in which I could lay the boards for the accommodation of my spoils, all would be well and I should be quite content.
Perhaps Frau Franzka could help me. There must be some such bureau in Luttach. Frau Franzka was summoned. The word ”bureau” she did not understand, but when I described to her the piece of furniture that I wished, she exclaimed joyfully:
”Ah, the Herr Professor means a chest! That is easily procured.
Upstairs in the Judge's sleeping-room there is a large old chest with four drawers. It is not beautiful, but very roomy. If the Herr Professor would like it, I will gladly have it brought down.”
Its lack of beauty was of no consequence to me, in consideration of the s.p.a.ce it afforded, but I did not like to take the chest from the chamber of the Judge. I preferred not to ask of him the smallest favour. I said so to Frau Franzka, but she made light of my scruples, saying:
”The Herr Foligno never uses the old chest. He used to put his linen in it, but now he keeps it in a very fine new chest which I bought for him, and which stands in his parlour. The old chest is empty; the Judge will be glad to have it taken out of his room.”
”But Herr Foligno is still away. You cannot ask his permission.”
”It is not necessary. The chest belongs to me. Herr Foligno, besides, owes me a great deal of money, and he cannot object to my bringing down for the Herr Professor an old chest which he does not use.”
I tried to make objection, but Frau Franzka was a resolute lady, and persisted in what she had once decided upon. She called her husband and a servant, and sent them up into the Judge's sleeping-room to bring down the chest, and in a few minutes, against the long bare wall of my room there stood a large, old-fas.h.i.+oned bureau, not elegant, indeed, but painted black, and with four drawers which gave abundant room for my requirements.
”There is the old chest,” Frau Franzka said with satisfaction. ”The Herr Professor need not fear; I will take it upon myself to settle matters with the Judge; but I must see if he has left anything in the drawers. I don't think so, but if it should be the case, I can easily transfer them to his new chest.”
She tried to draw out the topmost drawer by its metal handles, but it would not open.
”That is strange,” she said. ”The wood must have swelled so that the drawer sticks.”
”Perhaps it is locked,” I remarked.
”Oh, no, certainly not. The Judge never locks his chests; he always leaves them open, and, besides, I do not know whether he had any key, but we can soon see. There is just such another chest in our sleeping-room; my husband has the key and we can see if it will open it.”
She said several words in Slavonic to her husband, and he took a queer little key out of his pocket and handed it to her.
The key fitted in the lock and turned. Frau Franzka then opened the topmost drawer without difficulty. She glanced inside it and recoiled with a slight scream.
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