by Ellin Carsta
“I’ll feel good,” said Maximilian, one of the students. “After all, I’ll know that the patient will start to feel better soon.”
“Do you really believe that?” The doctor seemed meditative. “Madlen, tell us, please, how would you describe your feelings when you arrive to care for a patient?”
Madlen was uncomfortable being the center of attention. She cleared her throat. “Worried, but also hopeful about being able to help. Doubt, fear. I don’t know. I’m not a doctor.”
“But you have helped more people than anyone else here in the lecture hall. Well, besides me, of course,” he added, smiling. “I want to tell you why I asked this question. The medical profession is prestigious and often financially rewarding. So, are you sitting here in this lecture hall because of money and prestige, or do you really want to help?”
“What if it’s both?” Hubertus von Megenberg asked. “Would that make me a bad doctor?” It sounded almost aggressive, like a challenge.
“Certainly not,” Franz answered. “I would say that is an honest answer, though perhaps not so admirable. I ask you this question for one simple reason: to push you to think about why you are here.”
“He seems rather contemplative today,” Thomas whispered to Madlen.
“Money and healing are closely related,” the doctor continued. “Without money, a sick patient would have a difficult time finding a doctor that could heal him. And without the patients’ successful healing, the doctor wouldn’t be able to earn any money, much less accumulate any substantial amount of wealth. Of course, he could demand payment before beginning his treatment. But soon word would get out that he took money from those he wasn’t able to heal.” He sighed. “But what am I talking about? Let’s move on to medicinal herbs you’re already familiar with and those you’ll need to get acquainted with. In the interest of fairness, I ask you, Madlen, to contribute only if no one else knows the answer. Because unquestionably, when it comes to herbal remedies, you are the most knowledgeable of anyone here; you probably know even more than I do.”
“Of course,” Madlen said. Something didn’t seem quite right with the doctor, so she decided to inquire about his well-being after the lecture.
The doctor quizzed the students on the more common medicinal herbs, which most were already familiar with. But when the doctor began to ask about more exotic herbs and their medicinal properties, the class fell silent. When no one responded, Franz asked Madlen for her answer.
“That’s all for today,” he announced at the end of the lecture. “Madlen, thank you for sharing your extensive knowledge with us. God protect you all.”
“Dr. Franz?” She approached the doctor as the other students left the hall.
“Yes, Madlen?”
“Do you have a moment?”
“Of course.”
Thomas waved good-bye and Madlen waved back. Then she directed her attention to the doctor.
“Forgive me. I hope you won’t think me too bold, but I would like to ask you if you’re feeling all right. You seem very pensive today.”
“You’re quite the keen observer.” He sighed. “This morning I had a meeting with the dean. Apparently, there have been some complaints about you being my guest, while other students have to pay tuition, and some of their families have also donated generously to the university.”
Madlen smiled. “But, Doctor, why does it make you sad? We knew this day would come. And not only because of the money. I’d have had to go back to Cologne soon anyway.”
“You’re not disappointed?”
“No, not at all.”
“Well, I am. Your presence enhances the lecture. Your knowledge is rich, and you are humble. How many of these students can say the same about themselves?” He sighed once again. “But you’re right, we knew this day would come.”
“I would like to thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Doctor, and for everything I have learned. I will never forget this experience.”
“May I?” He opened his arms wide.
Madlen nodded and took a step closer to him.
He embraced her. “I wish you a life full of joy and happiness. You are a special woman, and it was my honor to share this time with you.”
After a moment, Madlen stepped out of his embrace. “Nothing but the best for you, Doctor. I give you my eternal thanks. Farewell.” She smiled even though she, too, was sad. Madlen touched his arm, turned around, and walked away. Her steps became faster and faster until finally she was running. She ran down the corridor, outside along the promenade and through the gardens, and quickly reached the edge of the university campus, tears running down her cheeks. She slowed. At the low wall where she’d eaten with Hyronimus Auerbach, she sat down. She took a deep breath and wiped away her tears. She’d known all too well this moment would come but had dreaded it nevertheless. Her time in Heidelberg had gone so fast, and now it was at an end.
Madlen thought of her children and husband. Veit would be so very happy to be going home. And Johannes—she would see him again soon. Everything was all right as it was. She wiped away the last of her tears and forbade herself to sink into a depression. Then she stood up, smoothed her dress, and made her way to the Golden Rooster.
She had almost reached the inn when she remembered her appointment with the sheriff. She immediately turned around and started back the way she’d come, angry and ashamed to have been so caught up in her own disappointment that she’d forgotten about Trude von Fahrenholz’s plight. She was relieved when the sheriff cheerfully welcomed her and suggested that they immediately set out for Trude von Fahrenholz’s residence.
Like Magdalena Grossherr, Trude von Fahrenholz apologized and declined to receive them. It required substantial persuasion to convince her to let them in.
In contrast to Magdalena Grossherr’s, Trude von Fahrenholz’s injuries were obvious. Her right eye was bloodshot, her lips had a dark-red scab, and her throat was black and blue. And those were only the injuries that could be seen at a glance.
Their conversation didn’t last long. She was quite subservient toward her husband, and she made it clear that she had absolutely no desire to file a report or take action of any kind against him. After a while, Madlen and the sheriff had to admit that she was a lost cause, that they hadn’t made even the slightest impression on her. So after saying their farewells, they told her she could contact them any time if she changed her mind.
The sheriff walked Madlen to the Golden Rooster. She still hadn’t told him about her time at the university coming to an end.
“Sheriff, I would like to share something with you,” she began. “Today was my last day at the university. I’ll be returning to Cologne soon.”
“But . . .” The sheriff was taken aback. “But, I mean, so soon? There’s still so much to do. So many women.”
“I understand. But now that’s your battle, Sheriff, not mine.”
“Tomorrow is Albert Grossherr’s hearing. Couldn’t you at least wait until then? I imagine that Magdalena would greatly appreciate your support.”
“There’s no reason to rush our departure,” Madlen said. “I’ll stay until the hearing is over. We’ll see what I can do for Magdalena.”
“You’re a truly great woman, Madlen. When we first encountered each other, the circumstances were quite difficult. You were but a young girl. But now things are different. Your husband is an extremely lucky man.”
Madlen looked at the ground modestly. “I have to go now. God be with you, Sheriff.”
“God be with you, Madlen Goldmann.”
Madlen, deep in thought, entered the inn and climbed the stairs to her room. She was back earlier than she’d expected to be and therefore wasn’t surprised that her family wasn’t around. She fell into bed, clasped her hands behind her head, and gazed at the ceiling. She was sad but also relieved. She would be resuming her normal life soon. She would soon be able to stand by Johannes and . . . and what? Take care of the children, listen to Johannes talk about his exciti
ng legal cases? Would that be enough? Was that all there was? She rolled onto her side and curled up in the fetal position. Why couldn’t she be like other women, content with what she had? What was wrong with her? She turned onto her other side. There were women who were happy just to not get hit for a couple of days. And here she was, feeling bad because she had to go back to her big house and take care of her children. She felt like she should be ashamed of herself for such self-indulgent thoughts. But she wasn’t.
She rolled onto her back and again clasped her hands behind her head. What had this short time in Heidelberg done to her? These musings couldn’t continue. She’d known from the start that she had to enjoy every single minute and soak in every bit of knowledge because this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But she wanted more. Everything seemed so unjust, so incredibly wrong. She wondered how she could go on living without her studies. She sighed in frustration. It had been wrong to accept the doctor’s offer to come to Heidelberg in the first place. Before, she’d been happy. She’d loved her life. Or had she? She simply didn’t know what to think anymore.
The door opened with a jerk, giving Madlen such a start that she cried out. Cecilia laughed. “Mother! You’re back!” She ran over, climbed up onto the bed, and cuddled up to her mother. Veit appeared at the door then ran over to his mother, too. “We didn’t know you’d be here so soon.”
“I’ve been waiting for you. Where did you go?”
“We went to the castle with Grandmother and Aunt Agathe. Grandmother told us lots of stories. Mother, I know exactly what I want to be when I grow up. I want to be a knight!”
“A knight?” Her children’s cheerful chatter did her heart good. She was ashamed of the gloomy thoughts she’d just had. She sat up on the edge of the bed. “Oh, my sweethearts, I’m so happy to have you. And do you know what?”
“No, what?” Veit asked.
“We’re going home the day after tomorrow.”
“Really?” Veit opened his eyes wide then hugged his mother so enthusiastically that she fell back onto the bed again.
“What did you say?”
Madlen didn’t know how long Agathe had been standing at the door. “Yes, Agathe, we’re going home. We’re going home at long last.”
At supper, Madlen explained to Elsbeth, Agathe, the children, and the servants that her time at the university was over and that they would start for home in two days. She instructed Ansgar to prepare their horses, then told Ursel and Gerald to prepare their belongings for the journey, and they promised to do so. Madlen vacillated between being excited to see Johannes again and being melancholy about leaving Heidelberg and the university behind.
“But you’ll still spend a few days in Worms, right?” Agathe asked.
“Just a day or two, that’s all. I’m sure Johannes would like to know what Leopold has accomplished with his father’s business.”
“I’m also anxious to see what’s happened,” Elsbeth said, a certain uneasiness evident in her voice.
“Why so sullen, Elsbeth?” Madlen put her hand on her mother-in-law’s.
“Oh, I’m just a little nervous about what to expect when we get to Worms. Will Peter be there? And what will become of us if Leopold hasn’t been able to resolve our business issues?”
Suddenly the inn’s door crashed open and a sheriff’s deputy raced in and began to frantically look around. He saw Madlen in the dining area and hurried over. “The sheriff sent me. You need to come with me right away!”
“Why?”
He looked around. All eyes were on him. “I can’t tell you right now. Come on!”
Madlen and Agathe exchanged looks. “We’ll stay with the children,” Agathe assured her.
Madlen followed the deputy out. He ran ahead of her, and she gathered her skirts, making quite an effort to match his pace. “Where are you taking me?”
“To a patient. The sheriff is already there.”
Questions whirled around in Madlen’s head as she kept up with the deputy, running as fast as she could. Soon the streets became more and more familiar, and she realized that she’d walked through them with the sheriff earlier that day. When they finally arrived at Trude von Fahrenholz’s house, Madlen felt a lump in her throat.
The door was open. In the entryway, two deputies stood to the right and two stood to the left of a man sitting on a chair, slumped over and cursing under his breath.
“Come upstairs,” the deputy said. Madlen gathered her skirts and ran upstairs. When she got to the bedchamber, she found the sheriff standing over a body lying on the floor.
She let out a cry. “Hyronimus! Dr. Auerbach!” She dropped to her knees. His jacket was soaked with blood. “What happened?”
“That bastard stabbed him. Do something!”
“We must get his jacket off. Cut it off if you have to. I need clean cloths!” To the deputy she said, “Send two of your men to the university campus. Tell them to fetch the Master of Medicine, Dr. Franz von Beyenburg. Run! Run!”
Dr. Auerbach was unconscious, but Madlen could feel his faint heartbeat. The sheriff knelt down and cut off the doctor’s jacket then tore open his shirt to expose his chest.
“My God!” Madlen gasped. She could see at first glance that he was bleeding from at least four stab wounds. One of the guards brought the cloths she’d demanded, and Madlen instructed him to get water. She rolled up a linen cloth as tightly as she could. “Press down firmly on the wound to keep him from losing any more blood.”
The sheriff did so as Madlen rolled up more cloths and pressed them to the other wounds. The guard came back, carrying a bowl of water. Madlen took the bowl and dipped a rolled-up cloth in the water. “We need some distilled spirits and St. John’s wort, if you have it.”
The guard nodded and hurried out again. Madlen wrung out the cloth. “Now take the dry cloth off,” she ordered the sheriff. He took off the bloodied cloth and applied the fresh moist one. “He’s losing too much blood.” Madlen could not contain her fear.
“Do something!” the sheriff demanded.
“I’ve never tended such serious wounds.” She carefully lifted the cloth she’d been pressing to the doctor’s chest. Was she mistaken, or was there a little less blood on it? When she realized that diminished blood loss could also mean something else, cold chills ran up and down her spine. “Can you feel his heartbeat?” she asked anxiously.
The sheriff faltered at first then put his head on the doctor’s chest and listened with great concentration. He slowly lifted his head and shook it, gazing down at the lifeless body. Right then, Dr. von Beyenburg arrived. “Get back!” he yelled, pushing the sheriff aside.
“His heart stopped beating,” Madlen said quietly.
Franz felt his colleague’s neck for a pulse. Then he removed the cloths Madlen had used to compress the wounds and examined the doctor’s injuries. “There’s nothing anybody can do for him now.” Franz searched Madlen’s face. “I’m so sorry.”
Madlen, tears running down her cheeks, looked at the sheriff, who was choking back his own tears. “He was such a fine man.”
“That pig von Fahrenholz will pay with his pitiful life for what he’s done!”
“How did this happen?” Franz asked.
The sheriff pressed his thumb and finger to the inner corners of his eyes to stop the tears from falling. “When I got here, he was still alive. Von Fahrenholz’s servant fetched the police, who then alerted me of the situation. The doctor had visited Trude von Fahrenholz to try to convince her to file a complaint against her husband. During the visit, the bastard came home and tried to throw the doctor out. They got in a heated argument. When Trude von Fahrenholz implored her husband to leave the doctor be, he gave her such a violent blow that her head struck that table over there.” He pointed, and for the first time Madlen and Franz noticed the woman’s lifeless body lying on the floor in the corner of the bedchamber. Franz rose and started toward the body, but the sheriff held him back. “She’s dead. She was already dead when I a
rrived. The doctor told me that von Fahrenholz pulled out a knife and stabbed him when he realized his wife was dead. Those were the last words the doctor said to me.”
Madlen continued to gaze at the dead doctor.
“Come on, Madlen,” Franz said, holding out his hand to her.
The sheriff looked at Hyronimus Auerbach. His grief made him look pale and drawn. He took a step over to the body, bent down, and gently touched the dead man’s cheek. “Adieu, my friend. The memory of your righteousness and courage will remind me to do the right thing. Fare thee well.”
Madlen was blinded by a torrent of tears. Franz pulled her into his arms and held her close.
The sheriff stepped past them. “Put that swine into the dungeon,” he snapped, looking down at Trude von Fahrenholz’s husband.
“I was just defending myself,” the man mumbled, but the sheriff had already walked past him.
“Get him out of here! Get that bastard out of my sight, or he won’t be needing a judge.”
Madlen and Franz released their embrace, and Madlen gazed at the dead Dr. Auerbach one last time. His face seemed relaxed now, even peaceful. “Adieu, Doctor. May God grant your soul peace.” She kissed her fingertips and touched them to his forehead. Then she and Franz von Beyenburg left the room.
That night, whenever she closed her eyes she saw an image of the dead doctor. Now all she wanted was to get away from Heidelberg and go home. She could hardly wait to be back in Johannes’s strong arms, to lead a normal life, one without all the disturbances of recent days. She asked herself over and over again whether she shared part of the blame for the doctor’s death because she had spoken with these women. When morning finally broke, she was relieved, though tired and drained. She wanted to seize the day by first going to the university to say good-bye to Thomas then on to her brother’s workshop to say farewell. She set off right after breakfast. She had been waiting on campus for just a few moments when she saw Thomas coming down the street.