"Waiter, when you have read Socrates you will know how rare a friend is, and, consequently, how little certainty there is of meeting one!"
"But monsieur can still order lunch for three; if monsieur's friend comes, another cover can be added."
"You say we are nearing Fontainebleau?" I replied, eluding the question.
"In five minutes we shall be opposite the landing-stage."
"Then I will go and see if my friend is coming."
I went up on the deck, and mechanically glanced towards the landing-stage. We were still too far off to distinguish anything; but, assisted by tide and steam, the boat rapidly advanced. Gradually individuals grouped on the bank could be separately distinguished. Then outlines could be more clearly seen, then the colour of their clothes, and, finally, their features. My gaze was fastened, almost in spite of myself, upon an individual who was waiting in the middle of ten other persons, and whom I believed I recognised. But it was most unlikely!... However, it was very like him, ... if it were he, what luck.... No, it seemed impossible.... Nevertheless, it was, indeed, his shape and figure and physiognomy. The boat approached nearer still. The individual who was the object of my attention got into the boat to come on board the steamer, which stopped to take up passengers. When half-way to the steamer the individual recognised me and waved his hand to me.
"Is that you?" I shouted.
"Yes, it is I," he replied.
I had found my Carré, only his name was Félix Deviolaine; and, instead of being just an ordinary school-fellow, he was my cousin. I ran to the ladder and flung myself into his arms with as much effusion as Bixio had into Carré's.
"Are you alone?" he asked me.