by Ellin Carsta
“So your wife is currently in Worms? Can I rely on her cooperation?”
“Of course. Please send my greetings to Madlen. I’ll write a note for you to give to her, if that’s all right. That way I can explain everything.”
“That would certainly make my job easier.”
“Good. When will you be departing?”
“In an hour.”
“So soon?”
“I’ve been given an order from the archbishop. And I’ve known the man well enough to know that he expects his orders to be followed straightaway. I’ll need to find a man to send to Dortmund, a man to send to Bonn, and a man to send to Dusseldorf. I myself will proceed to the harbor to order the necessary supplies. I don’t want to arrive in Worms empty-handed.”
Johannes admired Leopold’s meticulousness and authoritativeness, how he’d devised a clear, comprehensive plan in such a short time. Friedrich couldn’t have chosen a better person to undertake this formidable task.
“I shall be forever in your debt.”
“No,” Leopold said. “I’m not doing this for you or your family. I’m doing this out of allegiance to the archbishop. I will handle everything to his utmost satisfaction.” He stepped back and nodded at Johannes. “And now, if you will excuse me, I’m in a bit of a hurry. Write your message. I’ll personally deliver it to your wife. I will set out as soon as all the preparations are made. God be with you, Counselor.”
“And with you, too,” Johannes said, but Leopold had already turned around and left without looking back.
Chapter Five
“Someone wishes to speak with you, my lady.”
Madlen propped herself up in bed. After Elsbeth had left the house with the children, Madlen had gone to her bedchamber to lie down. She felt exhausted and miserable after what had happened the day before at Otilia’s house. “Who is it, Helene?”
“He says his name is Franz von Beyenburg and that you would know him.”
The feeling of heaviness gave way to nausea. What could she say so that she wouldn’t have to receive him? “I’m truly not feeling well. Please tell him I’m indisposed at the moment, Helene.”
“Yes, my lady.” The maid closed the door carefully behind her.
Shortly afterward, somebody knocked on the door again. Madlen had stood up and gone to the window to observe the street below. Was she mistaken or had the guest not left yet? Another knock on the door. Before she could answer it, the door opened a crack.
“But you can’t do this, my lord,” Helene was saying.
“I’m a physician, and thus, if your mistress isn’t feeling well, I’m the right man in the right place.” Franz von Beyenburg pushed past the maid and entered the room.
Helene followed him in, then shrugged helplessly at Madlen.
“It’s all right, Helene. Take him to the dining room. I’ll speak with my visitor there.” She would have preferred to avoid him entirely, but at the very least she would not have the meeting here in her bedchamber.
Franz smiled at her. “I accept your invitation,” he said politely but firmly, then turned toward the door. He paused. “You are coming, aren’t you?” He had no intention of going any farther until he was certain she would be joining him.
“Yes.” There was something about this man that gave Madlen pause. She didn’t know whether she found his outrageous boldness delightful or irritating. But there was no time to think about that now, for fear that he’d turn around and linger in her bedchamber. So she gathered up her skirts and hurried after him.
“Did you eat something that upset your stomach?” Franz asked as she stepped through the doorway.
“Possibly.”
“Should I prepare you a medicinal brew? I have a remedy in my quarters, which I could fetch immediately.”
“Let’s just see how it goes.”
They walked down the stairs, one after the other. Madlen was glad to be behind him so she didn’t have to feel his eyes on her. “I must apologize for my behavior yesterday. I felt ill all of a sudden and, well, I just couldn’t stay.”
“I understand. You probably ate something that upset your stomach.”
“That’s probably what it was.”
They reached the dining room, and Madlen offered the visitor a place to sit.
“A splendid house you have here. I like it very much.”
“It belongs to my in-laws. We’re guests, visiting for only a short time.”
Helene entered and put two glasses of spiced wine and some pastries on the table.
“Are you sure that you should drink spiced wine?” Franz asked.
Madlen didn’t know whether the question was sincere or if Franz was teasing her. But he must have suspected that her stomach was just fine. “Thank you, Helene.”
The maid curtsied and hurried out of the dining room.
“Would you be kind enough to leave the door open?” Madlen asked. “Then I can hear when Elsbeth comes back with the children.”
“Your eyes light up when you talk about your children. Did you know that?”
“Why are you here?” Madlen refused to let their conversation stretch on longer than necessary.
“I was wondering . . . Please, if you would be frank with me. What was the real reason that you ran away so hastily yesterday?”
“My stomach . . .”
He shook his head. “No, that wasn’t the reason.” He seemed genuinely concerned. “You can trust me, Madlen. Perhaps you were frightened?”
“Why in the world would I be frightened?” She refused to expose the emotional turmoil raging inside her.
“Because I told you something you never in your wildest dreams thought could be possible. For you, a woman studying medicine and becoming a physician has always been a completely absurd notion. And now to discover through me that it is indeed possible overwhelmed you. Isn’t that right?”
Madlen crossed her arms as she searched for an appropriate response. Helene knocked on the dining room door then walked in. She looked as though she’d been crying.
“Please excuse the interruption, my lady.” She tried to suppress her sobbing.
“Helene, my God, what’s happened?”
“It’s just that . . . please excuse me,” she stammered. “The master . . . he wanted schnapps, and I, I didn’t want to . . . because the mistress told me not to . . . But then . . . he hit me! I don’t know how he knew where I was since he can’t see me.” She put a palm to her reddened cheek. “He hit me really hard. He’s never done that before. Sometimes he would . . . when he was drunk . . . but he never hit me.” A steady stream of tears flowed down her face.
Madlen stood, went over to her, touched her on the shoulder, and then pulled her close. “I’m so sorry, Helene.”
The physician stood.
“I’m so very sorry you’ve been exposed to this unpleasantness,” Madlen said. “My husband’s father, Peter, is not usually like this. The disease causes him to be angry.” She examined the maid’s cheek. “It will hurt a bit for a few days, but it is nothing serious. Go and pour yourself a strong drink. It will make you feel better.”
Helene brushed her tears away with the back of her hand, curtsied, and then left the room without another word.
Madlen gestured toward the chair. “Please take a seat, my lord, if it so pleases you. A sip or two of wine would do us some good as well.”
They could hear Peter all the way from his bedchamber upstairs, bellowing at the top of his lungs. Helene returned and pointed upstairs. “Should I tend to him?”
“No,” Madlen said unwaveringly. “Let him scream himself hoarse.”
“I thank you, my lady.” With that, Helene disappeared through the doorway yet again.
Franz sat and pensively turned the wineglass in his hands. Madlen sat, too.
“My father-in-law’s eyesight has been worsening each day, and now he can’t see anything at all. Since he can no longer run his mercantile business, he lies in bed all day, demanding schnapps. And w
hen he gets it, he pours it down his throat at once.” She picked up her glass and took a sip. “I hope and pray that my husband returns soon to straighten out the situation. Above all for Elsbeth, my mother-in-law, who is understandably at the end of her rope.”
“Disease can grind people down like a stone,” Franz said. “Why is he going blind?”
“The doctor who examined him could not give us a diagnosis. No matter what he did, Peter’s condition worsened. And now he’s blind.” She shrugged. “The doctor said there was no cure. And, as far as I know, there’s no herbal remedy that can cure Peter, either.”
“I agree that an herbal remedy won’t help. But if it is what I think it is, then I might be able to remedy the situation.”
Madlen stared at him wide-eyed. “You can help him?”
Franz nodded. “If I might be allowed to examine him, I could say so with more certainty.”
Madlen felt uneasy about letting the doctor see her father-in-law. This was a decision best left to Elsbeth, Johannes, or even Peter himself, if he were in his right mind. But only her father-in-law was present, and after what Helene had just reported, the sick man was undoubtedly in no condition to make such a decision. So, she pulled herself together. “Agreed.”
“Good.”
“Please give me a moment to go up first and talk to him. I’ll call for you when he is ready.”
“I’ll be waiting here.”
Madlen stood up and turned to go but then turned around. “This is a rather uncomfortable situation for me, and I feel compelled to be completely honest. Until my husband returns, I do not have the funds with which to pay you for your medical services.”
“Don’t worry about that.”
Madlen smiled gratefully. “Then I will be right back.”
“I’ll wait here,” he said again.
Madlen made her way upstairs. “Peter? It’s me, Madlen,” she said, pushing open the door to his bedchamber. The stench of excrement hit her nostrils. Although light was streaming in through the window, it seemed to Madlen as though the room was darker than the rest of the house.
“Did you bring me some schnapps?”
“No, Peter.”
“Then get the hell out of here, you goddamned harlot!”
Madlen straightened her spine and walked to his bedside. Peter lifted his head, evidently trying to ascertain where she was.
“There is a man downstairs, a doctor, who wants to examine your eyes.”
“A shark who only wants to extract silver from my pocket!” Peter braced himself, then spat toward where he guessed Madlen was standing. She stepped back, although she’d been standing too far away for him to have hit his target.
“You don’t have to pay him.”
“Oh, no? So what does he want instead? I guess the fact that you are pleasing to God is payment enough?” He laughed hoarsely. The insult implied in this remark sickened Madlen.
“I’ll fetch him to examine you.”
“I’ll let him have it when he gets close enough.”
“No,” Madlen said firmly. “You will not.”
“Who do you think you are, you harlot?”
“What have you become?” Madlen went to the window and looked out. “The first time I met you, when Johannes introduced me to you and Elsbeth, I was nervous but also full of admiration for you and your accomplishments. But look at you now—a drunkard, drowning his wretchedness in alcohol and driving his family to ruin. Now Johannes has to come up with a miracle to make things right!”
“How dare you to talk to me like that!”
“Yes, I dare indeed. And I’m not finished yet. I’m not asking you to allow yourself to be examined. I’m demanding it. And I expect you to accept the help that this doctor offers you. And then you will rise from this bed and, little by little, become the man you used to be.”
“I’m blind!” Peter bellowed.
“Yes, but you’re not dead. Maybe the doctor is capable of helping you, I don’t know. Even if he can’t, that doesn’t entitle you to lie here day and night, yelling for schnapps.”
“Get the hell out of here!”
Madlen knew she wasn’t getting anywhere. “Now I’m going to get the doctor. And if you behave yourself, I will bring you some schnapps afterward.”
Peter seemed to think it over. “How much schnapps?”
“One glass.”
“A large bottle.”
“I will give you a bottle two-inches full, but only if you behave in nothing less than an exemplary fashion.”
Peter hesitated, then blurted out, “Send that goddamned quack in.”
“I’ll go get him now.” Madlen gathered up her skirts, left the room, and walked over to the landing. “Doctor,” she called out, “would you be so good as to come up?”
“I’m coming,” he called back.
Before the doctor went into Peter’s bedchamber, Madlen held him back by his arm. “I hope he doesn’t kill you altogether. I can’t promise he won’t try.”
“People who are very sick can be difficult. This kind of behavior is not foreign to me. Don’t worry.” With that, he went in.
“Peter, this is Dr. Franz von Beyenburg. Franz, this is my father-in-law, Peter Goldmann.”
“May God bless you,” Franz said as he stepped closer to the old man’s bed. “Excuse me, Madlen. Is it possible to get more light in here? I need as much illumination as possible.”
“I’ll ask Helene.” She looked at Peter, who lay there completely silent. She didn’t trust him, and she wondered what he’d do in her absence. She left the room with a feeling of dread and hurried downstairs to find Helene.
When Madlen returned to the bedchamber, the doctor and Peter were conversing quietly and calmly.
“We have been talking about the process by which Mr. Goldmann’s eyesight has worsened,” Franz said, looking up. “I need a closer look, but something tells me he has cataracts.”
“Cataracts?” Madlen sighed. “That’s what we were afraid of. There’s no cure for that.”
Helene came in with four lanterns, put them down, and left again without a word. Franz asked Peter to sit on the edge of the bed, then positioned two of the lanterns so they lit up the old man’s face. He asked Madlen to hold up one of the lanterns, then held up the other with his left hand.
“Please, sit up tall, lift your chin, and look straight ahead.”
Without resistance, Peter obeyed the doctor’s orders.
Franz squatted down in front of him as he continued to hold up the lantern. He signaled to Madlen to hold up her lantern as near to Peter’s face as possible. Madlen complied, observing what Franz was doing. She was becoming more and more fascinated by the second. She could learn so much from this man.
Franz swayed the lantern in front of Peter’s eyes. “Yes,” he declared after a while, “cataracts.”
With that, Madlen’s hopes were dashed. She sighed.
“I already knew that,” Peter said. “There’s no cure. I’ll rot right here in this bed, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“I have operated on cataracts many times,” Franz said. “There’s always some danger of complications, but so far none of my patients have complained. Trust me. I will restore your eyesight.”
Franz turned to Madlen. “I have everything I need in my room at Otilia’s house. We can start the procedure whenever you are ready.”
“And you won’t poke my eyes out?” Peter asked.
“I can assure you, Peter, that the doctor knows what he’s doing. You can trust him.” She tried to sound confident, even though she secretly believed that what the doctor was planning was quite impossible. But she didn’t want her father-in-law to sense her skepticism.
“You will see again,” Franz said confidently. “Of that you can be sure.”
Chapter Six
Usually, before coming home to a hearty welcome from his family, Johannes enjoyed the peace of the ride. But now Johannes was feeling melancholy, knowing full well tha
t he would be returning to a silent house, that nobody awaited him there. Veit and Cecilia’s cheerful laughter and occasional screeching would be absent. He missed his wife and children more than he could say.
Things had been different before Madlen had walked into his life, when he had nothing but his work to focus on. He was content to be alone, as he’d always been a somewhat solitary person. Johannes had often felt that cultivating social connections was more trouble than it was worth; he took no pleasure in it like other men his age seemed to. After his marriage to Madlen, after they’d moved from Worms to Cologne so that he could fulfill his obligations to the archbishop, he’d realized how lonely he’d felt his whole life. Now he’d become the person he’d always wanted to be through his love for Madlen and the children. Being without them now hurt him deeply, almost physically.
He wondered whether he shouldn’t have tried to convince the archbishop to at least allow him to return to Worms to see his family. It would have done him good to speak with Madlen. But he knew Friedrich. It was senseless to attempt to get his employer to approve such a plan. The archbishop was a determined man who seldom compromised. It was how he’d succeeded in staying in the archbishop’s chair for a quarter century. When he’d taken office, he’d not only cleared the diocese’s debt but also extended his sphere of influence and forced men who had been far superior in wealth to their knees. Friedrich never really wanted to be a clergyman. He wanted power, and he’d seized it when the opportunity presented itself. A man like that wasn’t easily swayed.
When Johannes arrived home, he yelled, “I’m home!” out of habit, but of course nobody was there to respond. He went into the kitchen, cut off a slice of ham, and sat down. Hans was nowhere to be seen. It didn’t take long before there was a knock at the front door. Johannes stood up, crossed the hall, and pulled the door open.
“May God bless you. I’m the doctor who examined the archbishop’s colleague. He asked me to come see you.”
“Please, come in.” Johannes opened the door wider. “Let’s go over there.” He pointed to his office. “You must excuse me, our housekeeper and the other servants are in Worms, which is where I should be, too. But never mind. Can I offer you some refreshment?”
