pipe. This man seemed so familiar to me, every
feature of his swarthy, yellow face, his whole figure, were so
indubitably stamped on my memory, that I could not do otherwise than
halt before him, could not help putting to myself the question: "Who is
this man? Where have I seen him?" He probably felt my intent stare, for
he turned his black, piercing eyes upon me.... I involuntarily uttered a
cry of surprise....

This man was the father whom I had sought out, whom I had beheld in my
dream!

There was no possibility of making a mistake,--the resemblance was too
striking. Even the long-skirted coat, which enveloped his gaunt limbs,
reminded me, in colour and form, of the dressing-gown in which my father
had presented himself to me.

"Am not I dreaming?" I thought to myself.... "No.... It is daylight now,
a crowd is roaring round me, the sun is shining brightly in the blue
sky, and I have before me, not a phantom, but a living man."

I stepped up to an empty table, ordered myself a tankard of beer and a
newspaper, and seated myself at a short distance from this mysterious
being.

V

Placing the sheets of the newspaper on a level with my face, I continued
to devour the stranger with my eyes.--He hardly stirred, and only raised
his drooping head a little from time to time. He was evidently waiting
for some one. I gazed and gazed.... Sometimes it seemed to me that I had
invented the whole thing, that in reality there was no resemblance
whatever, that I had yielded to the semi-involuntary deception of the
imagination ... but "he" would suddenly turn a little on his chair,
raise his hand slightly, and again I almost cried aloud, again I beheld
before me my "nocturnal" father! At last he noticed my importunate
attention, and, first with surprise, then with vexation, he glanced in
my direction, started to rise, and knocked down a small cane which he
had leaned against the table. I instantly sprang to my feet, picked it
up and handed it to him. My heart was beating violently.

He smiled in a constrained way, thanked me, and putting his face close
to my face, he elevated his eyebrows and parted his lips a little, as
though something had struck him.

"You are very polite, young man," he suddenly began, in a dry, sharp,
snuffling voice.--"That is a rarity nowadays. Allow me to congratulate
you. You have been well brought up."

I do not remember precisely what answer I made to him; but the
conversation between us