The Quest

"A splendid Parsifal! Perhaps he may get well yet," added the countess.

"Oh, no," said Van Lieverlee. "That sort of prophet-frenzy is incurable. I know indeed of so many cases."

For an instant Johannes stood hesitating. Should he give vent to what was boiling in his breast?

But he was older now, and he curbed himself. Before he went to sleep he resolved: "This is my last night here."

XVII

Again they stood on the steps of the gloomy building – the three – Johannes, Marjon, and Keesje. It was a bleak day, and Keesje's thin little black face peeped out from under a thick shawl.

"Just go into the doctor's room, will you?" said the doorkeeper. "The doctor wishes to speak with you. The professor is there, also," he added, importantly. And when Marjon would have gone with them, he extended his hand as if to stay her, saying, "Pardon, but the lady and the little one weren't invited."

Without replying, Marjon turned round to Johannes and said, "Then I'll wait for you at the house. Will you come soon?"

In the tiresome, pompous quarters of the doctor, with its bookcases draped in green, its white gypsum busts of Galenus, Hippocrates, and other old physicians, sat two dark-coated gentlemen. They were vis-à-vis, each in an office-chair, and deep in conversation.

On the large writing-table lay several open books, and some shining white metal instruments for measuring and examining.

"Sit down, my friend," said Professor Bommeldoos, in his loud voice and brusque manner. "We all know one another, do we not? We have already made an examination together."

Johannes silently took a seat.

"Let me explain to you, Johannes," said Dr. Cijfer, in more soft and moderate tones. "We – Professor Bommeldoos and I – have been charged by the judicial commission to make a medical investigation of the mental condition of your brother. He has committed a crime – not a heavy one, but yet not without significance, and one for which he ought to have been placed under arrest. Yet the clergyman thought him irresponsible, and summoned a physician from the asylum. Your brother simply would not reply to the latter. He was stubbornly silent."

Johannes nodded. He knew it already.

"That was the reason for his being temporarily secluded here. Now I have seen the patient myself once, but I am sorry to have to say that I can get no further than the other physician. When I interrogate him he looks at me in a very peculiar way, and remains silent."

"I do not understand, Colleague," said Bommeldoos, "why you did not instantly diagnose this as a symptom of megalomania."

"But, worthy Colleague," replied Dr. Cijfer, "he does talk with the nurses and his fellow patients, and he is obliging and ready to help. They all wish him well – yes, they are even singularly fond of him."

"All of which comports very well with my diagnosis," said Bommeldoos.

"Does he often have those whims, Johannes," asked Dr. Cijfer, "when he will not speak?"

"He has no whims," said Johannes, stoutly.

"Why, then, will he not reply?"

"I think you would not answer me," returned Johannes, "if I were to ask you if you were mad."

The two learned men exchanged smiles.

"That is a somewhat different situation," said Bommeldoos, haughtily.

"He was not questioned in such a blunt manner as that," explained Doctor Cijfer. "I asked about his extraction, his age, the health of his father and mother, about his own youth, and so forth – the usual memory promptings. Will you not give us some further information concerning him? Remember, it is of real importance to your brother."

"Mijnheer," said Johannes, "I know as little as yourself about all that. And even if I knew more I would not tell you what he himself thought best not to tell."

"Come, come, my boy," said the professor, "are you trying to make sport of us? Do you not know whence you came? Nothing of your parents, nor of your youth?"

Johannes hesitatingly considered whether or not he should do as Markus had done, and answer no questions whatever. But still he might reply to those that concerned only himself.

"I do, indeed, know all that about myself, but not about him," said he.

"Then you are not brothers?" asked the doctor.

"No, not in the sense you mean."

Dr. Cijfer looked at Bommeldoos as if to see what he thought of this reply. Then he touched a bell-button, saying:

"It seems to me, Colleague, that we might better see him face to face. We can then, perhaps, get on better than when apart."

Bommeldoos nodded solemnly, and passed his hand over his mighty forehead. A servant came in.

"Will you bring the patient Vis from the ward of the calm patients, working-class?"

"Very well, Doctor."

The servant vanished, and for several minutes afterward it was as still as death in the study. The two learned men stared at the carpet quite absorbed in thought – not minding delay – after the manner of deep thinkers. Johannes heard the clock ticking on the mantel, the faint music from an out-of-doors band playing a merry march, the sound of hurrahs, and the clatter of horses' hoofs on the cobblestone pavement. The royal wedding-festivities were still in progress, and Johannes could mentally see the two people who at that moment were bowing and waving as they sat in their carriage. There was a knock at the door. The nurse came and said, "Here is the patient." Then he let Markus in, remaining himself to look on.

"I will ring for you," said Dr. Cijfer, with a gesture. The nurse disappeared.

Markus had on a dark-blue linen blouse, such as all the patients of the working-class wear. He stood tall and erect, and Johannes observed that his face was less pale and sad than usual. The blue became his dark curling hair, and Johannes felt happy and confident as he looked at him – standing there so proud and calm and handsome.

"Take a seat," said Dr. Cijfer.

But Markus seemed not to have heard, and remained standing, while he nodded kindly and reassuringly to Johannes.

"Observe his pride," said Professor Bommeldoos, in Latin, to Dr. Cijfer.

"The proud find pride, and the gloomy, gloom; but the glad find gladness, and the lowly, humility," said Markus.

Dr. Cijfer stood up, and took his measuring instrument from the table. Then, in a quiet, courteous tone, he said:

"Will you not permit us, Mijnheer, to take your head measure? It is for a scientific purpose."

"It gives no pain," added Bommeldoos.

"Not to the body," said Markus.

"There is nothing in it to offend one," said Dr. Cijfer. "I have had it done to myself many a time."

"There is a kind of opinionativeness and denseness that offend."

Bommeldoos flushed. "Opinionativeness and denseness! Mine, perchance? Am I such an ignoramus? Opinionated and stupid!"