he was sitting motionless, with his arms folded on his chest. Thin
rings of black hair descended to his very nose; his thin lips gripped
the stem of a short 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