IfellfromtheskiesonBarbizonabouttwoo’clockofaSeptemberafternoon。Itisthedeadhouroftheday；alltheworkershavegonepainting，alltheidlersstrolling，intheforestortheplain；thewindingcausewayedstreetissolitary，andtheinndeserted。Iwasthemorepleasedtofindoneofmyoldcompanionsinthedining-room；histownclothesmarkedhimforamanintheactofdeparture；andindeedhisportmanteaulaybesidehimonthefloor。
　　“Why，Stennis。”Icried，“you’rethelastmanIexpectedtofindhere。”
　　“Youwon’tfindmeherelong。”hereplied。“KingPandionheisdead；allhisfriendsarelappedinlead。Formenofourantiquity，thepooroldshopisplayedout。”
　　“Ihavehadplaymates，Ihavehadcompanions。”Iquotedinreturn。Wewerebothmoved，Ithink，tomeetagaininthissceneofouroldpleasurepartiessounexpectedly，aftersolonganinterval，andbothalreadysomuchaltered。
　　“Thatisthesentiment。”hereplied。“All，allaregone，theoldfamiliarfaces。Ihavebeenhereaweek，andtheonlylivingcreaturewhoseemedtorecollectmewasthePharaon。BartheSirons，ofcourse，andtheperennialBodmer。”
　　“Istherenosurvivor？”Iinquired。
　　“Ofourgeologicalepoch？notone。”hereplied。“ThisisthecityofPetrainEdom。”
　　“AndwhatsortofBedouinsencampamongtheruins？”Iasked。
　　“Youth，Dodd，youth；blooming，consciousyouth。”hereturned。
　　“Suchagang，suchreptiles！tothinkwewerelikethat！I
　　wonderSirondidn’tsweepusfromhispremises。”
　　“Perhapsweweren’tsobad。”Isuggested。
　　“Don’tletmedepressyou。”saidhe。“WewerebothAnglo-
　　Saxons，anyway，andtheonlyredeemingfeatureto-dayisanother。”
　　Thethoughtofmyquest，amomentdrivenoutbythisrencounter，revivedinmymind。“Whoishe？”Icried。“Tellmeabouthim。”
　　“What，theRedeemingFeature？”saidhe。“Well，he’saverypleasingcreature，ratherdim，anddull，andgenteel，butreallypleasing。HeisveryBritish，though，theartlessBriton！
　　Perhapsyou’llfindhimtoomuchsoforthetransatlanticnerves。
　　Cometothinkofit，ontheotherhand，yououghttogetonfamously。Heisanadmirerofyourgreatrepublicinoneofitsexcusemeshoddiestfeatures；hetakesinandsedulouslyreadsalotofAmericanpapers。Iwarnedyouhewasartless。”
　　“Whatpapersarethey？”criedI。
　　“SanFranciscopapers。”saidhe。“Hegetsabaleofthemabouttwiceaweek，andstudiesthemliketheBible。That’soneofhisweaknesses；anotheristobeincalculablyrich。HehastakenMasson’soldstudio——youremember？——atthecorneroftheroad；
　　hehasfurnisheditregardlessofexpense，andlivestheresurroundedwithvinsfinsandworksofart。Whentheyouthofto-daygoesuptotheCavernedesBrigandstomakepunch——
　　theydoallthatwedid，likesomenauseousformofapeIneverappreciatedbeforewhatacreatureoftraditionmankindis——
　　thisMaddenfollowswithabasketofchampagne。Itoldhimhewaswrong，andthepunchtastedbetter；buthethoughttheboyslikedthestyleofthething，andIsupposetheydo。Heisaverygood-naturedsoul，andaverymelancholy，andratherahelpless。O，andhehasathirdweaknesswhichIcamenearforgetting。Hepaints。Hehasneverbeentaught，andhe’spastthirty，andhepaints。”
　　“How？”Iasked。
　　“Ratherwell，Ithink。”wasthereply。“That’stheannoyingpartofit。Seeforyourself。Thatpanelishis。”
　　Isteppedtowardthewindow。Itwastheoldfamiliarroom，withthetablessetlikeaGreekP，andthesideboard，andtheaphasiacpiano，andthepanelsonthewall。TherewereRomeoandJuliet，Antwerpfromtheriver，Enfield’sshipsamongtheice，andthehugehuntsmanwindingahugehorn；mingledwiththemafewnewones，thethincropofasucceedinggeneration，notbetterandnotworse。ItwastooneoftheseIwasdirected；
　　athingcoarselyandwittilyhandled，mostlywiththepalette-
　　knife，thecolourinsomepartsexcellent，thecanvasinothersloadedwithmereclay。Butitwasthescene，andnottheartorwantofit，thatrivetedmynotice。Theforegroundwasofsandandscrubandwreckwood；inthemiddledistancethemany-
　　huedandsmoothexpanseofalagoon，enclosedbyawallofbreakers；beyond，abluestripofocean。Theskywascloudless，andIcouldhearthesurfbreak。FortheplacewasMidwayIsland；thepointofviewtheveryspotatwhichIhadlandedwiththecaptainforthefirsttime，andfromwhichIhadre-embarkedthedaybeforewesailed。Ihadalreadybeengazingforsomeseconds，beforemyattentionwasarrestedbyabluronthesea-line；andstoopingtolook，Irecognisedthesmokeofasteamer。
　　“Yes。”saidI，turningtowardStennis，“ithasmerit。Whatisit？”
　　“Afancypiece。”hereturned。“That’swhatpleasedme。Sofewofthefellowsinourtimehadtheimaginationofagardensnail。”
　　“Madden，yousayhisnameis？”Ipursued。
　　“Madden。”herepeated。
　　“Hashetravelledmuch？”Iinquired。
　　“Ihaven’tanidea。Heisoneoftheleastautobiographicalofmen。Hesits，andsmokes，andgiggles，andsometimeshemakessmalljests；buthiscontributionstotheartofpleasingaregenerallyconfinedtolookinglikeagentlemanandbeingone。No。”addedStennis，“he’llneversuityou，Dodd；youlikemoreheadonyourliquor。You’llfindhimasdullasditchwater。”
　　“Hashebigblondeside-whiskersliketusks？”Iasked，mindfulofthephotographofGoddedaal。
　　“Certainlynot：whyshouldhe？”wasthereply。
　　“Doeshewritemanyletters？”Icontinued。
　　“Godknows。”saidStennis。“Whatiswrongwithyou？Ineversawyoutakenthiswaybefore。”
　　“Thefactis，IthinkIknowtheman。”saidI。“IthinkI’mlookingforhim。Iratherthinkheismylong-lostbrother。”
　　“Nottwins，anyway。”returnedStennis。
　　Andaboutthesametime，acarriagedrivinguptotheinn，hetookhisdeparture。
　　Iwalkedtilldinner-timeintheplain，keepingtothefields；forI
　　instinctivelyshunnedobservation，andwasrackedbymanyincongruousandimpatientfeelings。HerewasamanwhosevoiceIhadonceheard，whosedoingshadfilledsomanydaysofmylifewithinterestanddistress，whomIhadlainawaketodreamoflikealover；andnowhishandwasonthedoor；nowweweretomeet；nowIwastolearnatlastthemysteryofthesubstitutedcrew。ThesunwentdownovertheplainoftheAngelus，andasthehourapproached，mycouragelessened。I
　　letthelaggardpeasantspassmeonthehomewardway。Thelampswerelit，thesoupwasserved，thecompanywereallattable，andtheroomsoundedalreadywithmultitudinoustalkbeforeIentered。ItookmyplaceandfoundIwasoppositetoMadden。Oversixfeethighandwellsetup，thehairdarkandstreakedwithsilver，theeyesdarkandkindly，themouthverygood-natured，theteethadmirable；linenandhandsexquisite；
　　Englishclothes，anEnglishvoice，anEnglishbearing：themanstoodoutconspicuousfromthecompany。Yethehadmadehimselfathome，andseemedtoenjoyacertainquietpopularityamongthenoisyboysofthetabled’hote。Hehadanodd，silvergiggleofalaugh，thatsoundednervousevenwhenhewasreallyamused，andaccordedillwithhisbigstatureandmanly，melancholyface。ThislaughfellincontinuallyallthroughdinnerlikethenoteofthetriangleinapieceofmodernFrenchmusic；andhehadattimesakindofpleasantry，ratherofmannerthanofwords，withwhichhestartedormaintainedthemerriment。Hetookhisshareinthesediversions，notsomuchlikeamaninhighspirits，butlikeoneofanapprovedgoodnature，habituallyself-forgetful，accustomedtopleaseandtofollowothers。Ihaveremarkedinoldsoldiersmuchthesamesmilingsadnessandsociableself-effacement。
　　Ifearedtolookathim，lestmyglancesshouldbetraymydeepexcitement，andchanceservedmesowellthatthesoupwasscarceremovedbeforewewerenaturallyintroduced。MyfirstsipofChateauSiron，avintagefromwhichIhadbeenlongestranged，startledmeintospeech。
　　“O，this’llneverdo！”Icried，inEnglish。
　　“Dreadfulstuff，isn’tit？”saidMadden，inthesamelanguage。
　　“Doletmeaskyoutosharemybottle。TheycallitChambertin，whichitisn’t；butit’sfairlypalatable，andthere’snothinginthishousethatamancandrinkatall。”
　　Iaccepted；anythingwoulddothatpavedthewaytobetterknowledge。
　　“YournameisMadden，Ithink。”saidI。“MyoldfriendStennistoldmeaboutyouwhenIcame。”
　　“Yes，Iamsorryhewent；IfeelsuchaGrandfatherWilliam，aloneamongalltheselads。”hereplied。
　　“MynameisDodd。”Iresumed。
　　“Yes。”saidhe，“soMadameSirontoldme。”
　　“Dodd，ofSanFrancisco。”Icontinued。“LateofPinkertonandDodd。”
　　“MontanaBlock，Ithink？”saidhe。
　　“Thesame。”saidI。
　　Neitherofuslookedateachother；butIcouldseehishanddeliberatelymakingbreadpills。
　　“That’sanicethingofyours。”Ipursued，“thatpanel。Theforegroundisalittleclayey，perhaps，butthelagoonisexcellent。”
　　“Yououghttoknow。”saidhe。
　　“Yes。”returnedI，“I’mratheragoodjudgeof——thatpanel。”
　　Therewasaconsiderablepause。
　　“YouknowamanbythenameofBellairs，don’tyou？”heresumed。
　　“Ah！”criedI，“youhaveheardfromDoctorUrquart？”
　　“Thisverymorning。”hereplied。
　　“Well，thereisnohurryaboutBellairs。”saidI。“It’sratheralongstoryandratherasillyone。ButIthinkwehaveagooddealtotelleachother，andperhapswehadbetterwaittillwearemorealone。”
　　“Ithinkso。”saidhe。“NotthatanyofthesefellowsknowEnglish，butwe’llbemorecomfortableoveratmyplace。Yourhealth，Dodd。”
　　Andwetookwinetogetheracrossthetable。
　　Thushadthissingularintroductionpassedunperceivedinthemidstofmorethanthirtypersons，artstudents，ladiesindressing-gownsandcoveredwithricepowder，sixfootofSironwhiskingdishesoverourhead，andhisnoisysonsclatteringinandoutwithfreshrelays。
　　“Onequestionmore。”saidI：“Didyourecognisemyvoice？”
　　“Yourvoice？”herepeated。“HowshouldI？Ihadneverheardit——wehavenevermet。”
　　“Andyet，wehavebeeninconversationbeforenow。”saidI，“andIaskedyouaquestionwhichyouneveranswered，andwhichIhavesincehadmanythousandbetterreasonsforputtingtomyself。”
　　Heturnedsuddenlywhite。“GoodGod！”hecried，“areyouthemaninthetelephone？”
　　Inodded。
　　“Well，well！”saidhe。“Itwouldtakeagooddealofmagnanimitytoforgiveyouthat。WhatnightsIhavepassed！
　　Thatlittlewhisperhaswhistledinmyeareversince，likethewindinakeyhole。Whocoulditbe？Whatcoulditmean？I
　　supposeIhavehadmorereal，solidmiseryoutofthat。”Hepaused，andlookedtroubled。“ThoughIhadmoretobotherme，oroughttohave。”headded，andslowlyemptiedhisglass。
　　“Itseemswewereborntodriveeachothercrazywithconundrums。”saidI。“Ihaveoftenthoughtmyheadwouldsplit。”
　　Carthewburstintohisfoolishlaugh。“AndyetneitheryounorIhadtheworstofthepuzzle。”hecried。“Therewereothersdeeperin。”
　　“Andwhowerethey？”Iasked。
　　“Theunderwriters。”saidhe。
　　“Why，tobesure！”criedI，“Ineverthoughtofthat。Whatcouldtheymakeofit？”