that he knew by sight in the streets of Heidelberg--one of those superb
favourites of the students who are as well known as the professors
themselves to every inhabitant of a university town in Germany. And the
Doctor stroked the beautiful head and listened for steps upon the
stairs. Before long he heard an ominous stumbling, as of some one
unfamiliar with the dark and narrow way, and in a moment more a young
man stood in the doorway, dazzled by the flood of the evening sunshine
that faced him.

"Mr. Claudius live here?" interrogated the stranger in a high and
metallic, but gentlemanly voice.

"I am Dr. Claudius," said the tenant of the old chair, rising politely.
"Pray be seated, sir," and he offered his one seat to his visitor, who
advanced into the middle of the room.

He was a young man, dressed in the extreme of the English fashion. He
was probably excessively thin, to judge by his face and neck and hands,
but he was made up admirably. He removed his hat and showed a forehead
of mediocre proportions, over which his dark hair was conscientiously
parted in the middle. Though not in appearance robust, he wore a
moustache that would not have disgraced a Cossack, his eyes were small,
gray, and near together, and his complexion was bad. His feet were
minute, and his hands bony.

He took the offered chair, and Claudius sat down upon the bed, which was
by no means so far removed in the little room as to make conversation at
that distance difficult.

"Dr. Claudius?" the stranger repeated, and the Doctor nodded gravely.