I desire to lay
stress upon it that he it was, for I had read two weeks before in the
papers that he had died and was buried!

And now he was sitting, in evening dress, in the chamber of a poor
plaster sculptor, in the chamber of my father behind a bolted door!

I was aware of the fact that the physician knew father. Why, you can
recall that when father had asthma he consulted Mr. H----. Moreover,
the professor visited us very frequently. The papers said he was dead,
yet here he was!

With beating heart and in terror, I looked and listened.

The professor put some shining little thing on the table.

"Here is my diamond shirt stud," he said to my father, "It is yours."

Father pushed the jewel aside, refusing the gift.

"Why, you are spending money on me," said the professor.

"It makes no difference," replied father; "I shan't take the diamond."

Then they were silent for a long while. At length the professor smiled
and said:

"The pair of cuff buttons which I had from Prince Eugene I presented
to the watchman in the cemetery. They are worth a thousand guldens."

And he showed his cuffs, from which the buttons were missing. Then he
turned to the sunburned man:

"What did you give him, General Gardener?"

The tall, strong man unbuttoned his frock coat.

"Everything I had--my gold chain, my scarf pin, and my ring."

I did not understand all that. What was it? Where did they come from?
A horrible presentiment arose in me. They came from the cemetery! They
wore the very clothes in which they were buried!

What had happened to them? Were they only apparently dead? Did they
awake? Did they rise from the dead? What are they seeking here?

They had a very low-voiced conversation with father. I listened in
vain. Only later on, when they got warmed with their subject and spoke
more audibly, did I understand them.

"There is no other way," said the professor. "Put it in your will that
the coroner shall pierce your heart through with a knife."

Do you remember, my sisters, the last will of our father, which was
thus executed?

Father did not say a word. Then the professor went on, saying:

"That would be a splendid invention. Had I been living till now I
would have published a book about it. Nobody takes the Indian fakir
seriously here in Europe. But, despite this, the buried fakirs, who
are two months under ground and then come back into life, are very
serious men. Perhaps they are more serious than oursel