Jacob Hartrich, by birth a Jew, had reached his sixtieth year, and was as hale and strong as a man of forty. His face was bland and full-fleshed, his eyes bright and, at times, joyous, his voice mellow, his hands fat and finely-shaped, and given to a caressing petting of each other, denoting satisfaction with themselves and the world in general. His manners were easy and self-possessed--a characteristic of his race. He was a gentleman and a man of education.
He gazed at the Advocate with admiration; he had an intense respect for men who had achieved fame by force of intellect.
"Mr. Almer," he said, "prepared me for your arrival, and is anxious that I should forward your views in every possible way. I shall be happy to do so, and, if it is in my power, to contribute to the pleasure of your visit."
"I thank you," said the Advocate, with a courteous inclination of his head. "When did you last see Mr. Almer?"
"He called upon me this day three weeks--for a few minutes only, and only concerning your business."
"He is always thoughtful and considerate. I suppose he was on his road to Paris when he called upon you."
"No; he had no intention of going to Paris. I believe he had been for some time in the neighbourhood of Geneva before he favoured me with a visit. He is still here."
"Here!" exclaimed the Advocate, in a tone of pleasure and surprise.
"At least in Switzerland."
"In what part?"