uld
be upon Madame Patoff, and I began to fear for her reason as I
remembered how improbable it had always seemed to me that we should find
her son alive. I was full of curiosity to hear his story, but I knew
that he was exhausted with fatigue and emotion, so that I put him in
possession of my room and gave him some of my friend's clothes. In a few
moments the barber arrived, and while he was performing his operations I
myself resumed my ordinary dress.

Balsamides found Paul in bed and fast asleep, but, pushing the servant
aside, he walked in and opened the windows.

"Wake up, Patoff!" he shouted, making a great noise with the fastenings.

"Holloa! What is the matter?" cried Paul, opening his sleepy eyes wide
with astonishment as he saw Balsamides standing before him, white as
death with the excitement of the night. "Has anything happened?"

"Everything has happened," said Gregorios. "The sun is risen, the birds
are singing, the Jews are wrangling in the bazaar, the dogs are fighting
at Galata Serai, and, last of all, your brother, Alexander Patoff, is at
this moment drinking his coffee in my rooms."

"My brother!" cried Paul, fairly leaping out of bed in his excitement.
"Are you in earnest? Come, let us go at once."

"Your costume," remarked Balsamides quietly, "smacks too much of the
classic for the Grande Rue de Pera. I will wait while you dress."

"Does my mother know?" asked Patoff.

"No," replied Balsamides. "Your brother had not been five minutes in my
house when I came here." Then he told Paul briefly how we had found
Alexander.

Paul Patoff was not a man to be easily surprised; but in the present
case the issue had been so important, that, being taken utterly unawares
by the news, he felt stunned and dazed as he tried to realize the whole
truth. He sat down in the midst of dressing, and for one moment buried
his face in his hands. Balsamides looked on quietly. He knew how much
even that simple action meant in a man of Paul's proud and
undemonstrative temper. In a few seconds Paul rose from his seat and
completed his toilette.

"You know how grateful I am to you both," he said. "You must guess it,
for nothing I could say could express what I feel."

"Do not mention it," answered Balsamides. "No thanks could give me half
the pleasure I have in seeing your satisfaction. You must prepare to
find your brother much changed, I fancy. He seemed to me to be thin and
pale, but I think he is not ill in any w