I entered his service: "Has ever a woman in any way come into thy life?" Even then I could also confidently answer in the negative; I could do so even to this day. But for an anxious moment in giving the answer I fancied myself a lifeless engine, not a human being.
Whenever I worry now over the matter, a dire suspicion creeps into my brain. I cannot say in so many words what I am thinking on these occasions, but are there not plants too that never develop properly, that shrivel up and remain of a waxen yellow colour, simply because the poisonous shumach-tree grows near and secretly sucks at their roots?
The first months I felt very uncomfortable in the solitary castle occupied only by Count du Ghazal, his old housekeeper, Petronella, and myself, and literally choked-up with weird old-fashioned instruments, clocks and telescopes; especially as his lordship himself had so many odd habits.
For instance, although I was allowed to help him when dressing, he never permitted me to do so when he took off his clothes. If I offered to help him he always pretended he wished still to read for some time longer. But in reality—at least this is what I am driven to conclude—he roamed about in the dark; for often in the morning his boots were thickly covered with mud and mire, even when he had not set a foot out of doors the day before.
His appearance too did not make me feel at home. Small and slender, his body did not well suit his head. In spite of being well-built the Count made the impression upon me for a long time of being hunchbacked, though I could not exactly account to myself for the reason of this impression. His profile was
