The Severed Hand

I was born in Constantinople; my father was a dragoman at the Porte, and
besides, carried on a fairly lucrative business in sweet-scented perfumes
and silk goods. He gave me a good education; he partly instructed me
himself, and also had me instructed by one of our priests. He at first
intended me to succeed him in business one day, but as I showed greater
aptitude than he had expected, he destined me, on the advice of his
friends, to be a doctor; for if a doctor has learned a little more than
the ordinary charlatan, he can make his fortune in Constantinople. Many
Franks frequented our house, and one of them persuaded my father to allow
me to travel to his native land to the city of Paris, where such things
could be best acquired and free of charge. He wished, however, to take me
with himself gratuitously on his journey home. My father, who had also
travelled in his youth, agreed, and the Frank told me to hold myself in
readiness three months hence. I was beside myself with joy at the idea of
seeing foreign countries, and eagerly awaited the moment when we should
embark. The Frank had at last concluded his business and prepared himself
for the journey. On the evening before our departure my father led me into
his little bedroom. There I saw splendid dresses and arms lying on the
table. My looks were however chiefly attracted to an immense heap of gold,
for I had never before seen so much collected together.
My father embraced me and said: Behold, my son, I have procured for thee
clothes for the journey. These weapons are thine; they are the same which
thy grandfather hung around me when I went abroad. I know that thou canst
use them aright; but only make use of them when thou art attacked; on such
occasions, how-over, defend thyself bravely. My property is not large;
behold I have divided it into three parts, one part for thee, another for
my support and spare money, but the third is to me a sacred and untouched
property, it is for thee in the hour of need. Thus spoke my old father,
tears standing in his eyes, perhaps from some foreboding, for I never saw
him again.