On the following morning all were up early, and enjoyed a long walk before breakfast in the park. They did not see the Count until breakfast time. He was in a very pleasant mood, and, after inquiring how they had rested, turning to Dr. Jones he said:

“I have always made a point of rendering credit to whom credit is due. I slept eight consecutive hours last night, solidly and dreamlessly as the dead. I have had no such rest for years, and this morning, but for the stiffness of my limb, should be tempted to challenge you for a foot-race. If this be the effect of your medicine, you are the most wonderful healer I ever met.”

“I am truly happy to hear that you feel so well this morning, Count Icanovich. But remember that you do not believe at all in my infinitesimal dose, and should not prematurely render me credit. Your present improvement may be but a simple coincidence,” and the Doctor’s eyes twinkled mischievously.

“That is right,” said the Count good-naturedly; “I deserve your sarcasm.”

“Now,” interposed Mrs. Jones, “I do not think that the Count deserves any reproach or sarcasm at all. Here we come among you, total strangers; and Dr. Jones, before we have been here two hours, in his usual insinuating manner, gets you to swallow a dose of medicine for what you have good reason to consider an incurable complaint. I think it quite unreasonable to expect you to have the slightest faith in his one little dose.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Jones,” said the Count, bowing to her gravely; “but you will allow me to ask,” and he set his great black eyes upon her very earnestly, “do you think that the Doctor can cure me?”

“Do I think so!” cried she, flushing with pride and enthusiasm, “my good sir, he has done so already!”

The Count looked at her in astonishment for a moment, then dropped his knife and fork upon the table, threw his head back and roared with laughter. It was so hearty and contagious that all joined it in spite of themselves.

“Excuse me, friends,” said he, wiping the tears from his eyes, “but I have not laughed so for years. And this lady’s vindication of your skill, Dr. Jones, inspires me with greater confidence than anything else could have possibly done. All I have to say, madam, is that I accept your diagnosis of cure, and shall throw crutches and canes aside.”

After breakfast the Count said: “I have a stable full of horses which are at your service. I should esteem it a favor if you would use them as your own. There are many sights of interest about here. A few miles away is the town of P , a nice little city of about five thousand. No doubt you would like to make some purchases. I will accompany you any time and act as interpreter.”

They thanked him, but concluded not to visit town that day. He then led Dr. Jones into his private room and said:

“Doctor, I am desirous that you should see my daughter. I fear that you can do little more than palliate her condition, but even that would be very much for us. She is a great sufferer, and I shall be extremely grateful for anything you can do for her.”

The Doctor immediately signified his readiness to see her whenever it pleased the Count.

“That north wind is still howling, and I am only too happy to be of service to your daughter, or any of God’s suffering children while I am with you. Keep me busy as you like, Count. My greatest delight is to cure the sick, and the world is my field since I started on this trip for the Pole.”

The Count touched a bell, and a female servant entered. He gave her some orders in Russian.

She returned in a few moments and spoke to him.

“My daughter is ready to receive us. Will you go up to her now, sir?”

“This is my daughter Feodora, Doctor Jones,” said the Count as they entered her room. A tall, graceful young lady of twenty arose from a couch upon which she had been lying, and extended a thin feverish hand to the Doctor. She spoke to him in beautiful English, and Dr. Jones expressed surprise in his face so that the Count said:

“I spent several years in London, and Feodora became very proficient in the language there.”

They were all seated, and, after a few casual remarks, Dr. Jones requested Feodora to relate to him the history of her illness, and as she did so, he carefully noted her symptoms in his case-book. He interrupted her as little as possible, preferring to take down the history in her own language. After she had finished he made a physical examination of her chest. First, he carefully percussed both lungs; that is, laid the fingers of the left hand upon the chest and tapped them lightly with the finger ends of the right hand, thus producing a more or less resonant or hollow sound. He could thus detect any consolidated tissue that might be in the lung, or abnormal resonance where there chanced to be a cavity. He then, with a stethoscope, ausculated the lungs, or listened to the respiratory sounds. He noted the temperature; rate and other qualities of the pulse; looked at the tongue and sputa. Having now a complete picture of the case or what he termed the “totality of the symptoms,” he said:

“I must consult my library a few moments. I will be back within an hour.”

He hastened to the cage, ascended to the cabin, and in a few moments was oblivious to everything but the salvation of this precious young life. He transcribed from his case-book to a sheet of paper the most prominent, unusual, and persistent symptoms. They were:

1. Weeps much, and cannot bear to be left alone. Fears she will die.

2. Great difficulty in breathing; worse from exertion and after coughing.

3. Dry, teasing cough, more or less day and night. In paroxysms from tickling in the throat, with tenacious mucus, which she cannot raise, and must be swallowed. Sputa sometimes consists of pus, mixed with blood.

4. Lower third of the right lung particularly affected. She cannot lie upon the right side on account of sharp, stitching pains through the lung. Sometimes the sharp pains extend through the left lung, with violent palpitation of the heart.

5. All these symptoms, cough, pains, etc., are invariably worse at three o’clock, A.M., and continue one or two hours.

6. Very profuse night sweats, etc.

There were other concomitant symptoms that we will not stop to enumerate. Dr. Jones prepared a powder from a vial labeled Kali Carbonicum (cm), and descended and hastened to the castle. His heart was jubilant within him, for he knew that he should save this lovely girl. He fairly burst into her chamber, glowing with the pleasure he thus felt in bearing the gospel of healing.

“Praise God!” he fervently ejaculated, “I have found your remedy. Take this please.” She opened her mouth and he shook from a tiny vial a dose of a white granular powder, just as he did the night before with her father.

“Now, I want you to cheer right up, and dismiss all thought of dying from your mind. I expect that within a very few days you will experience great relief. These sharp stitching pains will almost immediately disappear, I am sure.”

And so he talked to her for a little time so brightly and cheerfully that the poor invalid seemed to catch his enthusiastic, hopeful spirit, and smiled and chatted in a way that lifted the Count to the very skies.

“Whether there be any efficacy in your powders or not, Doctor Jones, there is certainly wonderful potency in your sanguine manner of giving them.”

“Now, to-night,” continued the Doctor, acknowledging the Count’s compliment with a smile and nod, “I desire to see you in the drawing-room. You must have pleasant, cheerful company. No more tears and sighing in this dismal room. Throw open the curtains and blinds, let God’s sunshine and fresh air in. Take no medicine except what I give you. I must bring my wife and Mattie to see you, and you and they must romp all over this country in a few days providing a favorable wind does not set in. For I must hie away to the North Pole at the earliest practicable moment.”

“Please bring your ladies up soon, Doctor. I desire very much to know them, and I am sure that company does me good. I am afraid to be alone a moment. It has been too quiet in this great castle with no one to talk with but the servants. Do send for them immediately, please.”

A few moments later they appeared and were introduced to Feodora. They were shortly upon very good terms, for each of them was exceedingly well bred and possessed of purest womanly instincts.

“I heard your beautiful singing last night, and how I did wish to join your company. And do you know that yesterday I had been suffering terribly with stitching pains in my side, and I was so tired and miserable that I asked God to help me or take me home. Just then your great silver ship sailed across my window so that I could see it as I lay upon my couch, and do you know that I believed, for a time, that God had sent his chariot for me. I did not seem the least frightened, though I could hear the screams of the servants in different parts of the house, and my nurse had crawled under the bed. I just closed my eyes and awaited the summons. I confess that I felt really disappointed when they told me the truth of the matter. But now, do you know,” grasping the good little Doctor’s hand, “that I believe this to be God’s messenger, and through him I am to be restored to health again.”

“The Lord grant it,” said Dr. Jones. “But now we must leave you a few hours. You have had quite enough excitement for once. I expect to see you in the drawing-room to-night.”

So they withdrew, leaving her smiling and happy. Count Icanovich joined the Doctor a few moments later and asked him to sit with him in his private office.

“You will understand, Doctor, that I am exceedingly anxious to know your opinion of my daughter’s condition. You have inspired us with a degree of hope that we have not known for a long time. Indeed, Hope spread her wings and left this castle long since, and it has been little better than a charnel-house until your appearance. Now I ask you to tell me candidly whether you entertain any hope of my Feodora’s ultimate recovery. You may lay your heart open to me, for I should receive her as one raised from the dead if you save her. Do not, as you love your own soul, attempt to deceive me.”

“Count Icanovich,” answered Dr. Jones, “I am hardly prepared to give you a definite answer. I certainly see great reason to hope all that could be expected or desired. A certain remedy is so positively and clearly indicated in her case that I shall be greatly disappointed if the most distressing of her symptoms do not immediately disappear. After that, so much depends upon the hygienic and dietic management that I do not feel justified in making an absolutely favorable prognosis.”

“What if she were under your immediate supervision for a certain length of time?”

“I should, under such circumstances, feel quite sure of restoring her to perfect health.”

“Then, Doctor, if money be any object to you, you shall have your own price for remaining until you pronounce her well.”

“I am extremely sorry, Count, but that cannot be. My Government has built yonder aluminum air-ship at enormous expense at my express desire and instigation, with the understanding that I sail with it to the North Pole. My obligation is to do so with all possible dispatch. I will leave medicine and explicit directions, so that in all probability you will do just as well as if I remained.”

The nobleman said no more upon the subject, and they joined the company in the drawing-room. Will, Fred, and Denison repaired to the stables, selected saddle-horses and rode to the town. There they were objects of great interest to the inhabitants. The news of the great silver globe for they all believed it to be of silver, and the strangers to be fabulously rich with its load of voyagers that came so suddenly and mysteriously among them the day before, had spread rapidly. The superstitious people were half inclined to regard them as celestial visitors, and looked upon them with awe and wonder.

The Doctor and the Professor, with the ladies, took a long walk through the park. They met many of the natives, who were coming from every direction to see the marvelous silver ship.

“I declare,” said Mrs. Jones, “that I can hardly realize that all this can be true. I have to pinch myself sometimes to see if I am not enjoying a long beautiful dream.”

“It is romantic to the last degree,” replied Professor Gray.

“The wind still holds in the north,” remarked Dr. Jones, scanning the skies and treetops. “I see that it has veered a few points to the west. We will surely get a favorable wind before many days.”

“Isn’t it a pity that you cannot stay with that lovely girl until she is out of danger?” sighed Mrs. Jones.

“Yes, it grieves me exceedingly to be obliged to leave her, but I have no option in the matter. If that globe were my private property, I would not leave her until she was out of danger. But, under the circumstances, I cannot do so. After all,” said he, brightening up with the thought, “she will probably do as well without me.”

“She is the loveliest creature I ever saw,” said Mattie. “How gentle, beautiful, and patient she is. Much as I desire to visit the North Pole, still I would gladly remain here six months or a year if it would do her any good.”

The day passed away without incident. After dinner all met in the drawing-room, and the invalid girl occupied an easy chair among them. She extended her hand to Dr. Jones with a grateful smile, and said:

“Doctor, I have not passed so comfortable a day for a very long time. I shall get well. Your medicine has done wonders for me already. You are, no doubt, in great haste to reach your destination, but you must not leave me until I am better. If you do, I shall die.”

“O, no! my dear Miss Feodora, you will not die. I shall leave you medicines that will help you through nicely.”

This the Doctor said with all the assurance and cheerfulness he could command. But she instinctively detected a slight shade of anxiety or uncertainty in his tone. The physician must be a consummate actor who can deceive a patient whose perceptions are preternaturally acute as were Feodora’s. He saw that he had not deceived her, and cried:

“Do not let us think of that subject to-night. This unfavorable wind may last many days, and I promise to see you better before I go.”

She smiled sweetly and gratefully as he gave her this promise, and abandoned herself to the enjoyment of the music, conversation, etc., of the evening. Instrumental and vocal music constituted the principal source of amusement, and the audience awarded unstinted praise and applause. The singers were in the best possible form, not one of them complaining of cold or hoarseness, as is customary. Nothing could exceed the sweetness and richness of Mrs. Jones’ voice. It seemed to fill the gloomy halls and rooms of the castle to its farthest confines. And Mattie’s contralto beautifully and nobly seconded the soprano. The tenor and bass could scarcely have been better, and altogether it was a concert worthy of the praise of that, or any other, audience.

“You will never know what a change your coming has made in our home,” said Feodora to Mrs. Jones and Mattie as they sat beside her. “Before your coming, all was so still and dark, and scarcely a sound could be heard in the rooms or halls all day. Now see the servants sitting and standing about the halls, chatting and laughing as if nothing had ever been wrong in the house. And look at papa talking and laughing as if he were not the saddest man on earth only two days ago. As for myself, I am simply astonished beyond measure. I have really forgotten for a time this evening that I am not perfectly well. O, what a beautiful, beautiful change! And it is perfectly heavenly to have a respite from pain, even if it be but temporary.”

The two ladies, one sitting upon either side, smiled their sympathy and happiness, and pressed her poor emaciated hands between their own cool, soft, plump ones in a way that went directly to her heart.

“Let us help you up stairs,” said Mrs. Jones, “for I am sure that you must be getting tired.”

She assented, bade the company good-night, and retired with the two ladies.

“Now you must let us do everything we can for you while we are here,” said Mrs. Jones. “You know that we are to see you better before we go away, and I have so much confidence in Dr. Jones’ system of medicine that I am positive of your recovery.”

Leaving her then to the nurse, they retired for the night.