But all these things are secrets of which I have perhaps no right to
speak at present. It is enough to say that Jorsen changed the current of
my life on that night when he saved me from death.

For instance, from that day onwards to the present time I have never
touched the drink which so nearly ruined me. Also the darkness has
rolled away, and with it every doubt and fear; I know the truth, and
for that truth I live. Considered from certain aspects such knowledge,
I admit, is not altogether desirable. Thus it has deprived me of my
interest in earthly things. Ambition has left me altogether; for years
I have had no wish to succeed in the profession which I adopted in my
youth, or in any other. Indeed I doubt whether the elements of worldly
success still remain in me; whether they are not entirely burnt away by
that fire of wisdom in which I have bathed. How can we strive to win a
crown we have no longer any desire to wear? Now I desire other crowns
and at times I wear them, if only for a little while. My spirit grows
and grows. It is dragging at its strings.

What am I to look at? A small, white-haired man with a thin and rather
plaintive face in which are set two large, dark eyes that continually
seem to soften and develop. That is my picture. And what am I in the
world? I will tell you. On certain days of the week I employ myself in
editing a trade journal that has to do with haberdashery. On another
day I act as auctioneer to a firm which imports and sells cheap Italian
statuary; modern, very modern copies of the antique, florid marble
vases, and so forth. Some of you who read may have passed such marts
in different parts of the city, or even have dropped in and purchased a
bust or a tazza for a surprisingly small sum. Perhaps I knocked it
down to you, only too pleased to find a _bonâ fide_ bidder amongst my