“So you remember me?” he said.
“Yes,” I answered. “But how do you know me?”
That was the wonder, indeed. Medusa might not change to Perseus as Perseus to Medusa.
“Were you looking for me?” I asked. “Did you know I was living here?”
He shook his head slightly.
“No more, young sir, than I know the ultimate goal of my destiny.”
It suddenly occurred to me that, after all, he had said nothing to associate me with any memory of his own. I blushed like a fool, and stammered out—
“I suppose you aren’t mistaking——”
He put up his hand to interrupt me.
“Your father gave his life for me, sir. Not a shadowed feature, not a transmitted gesture of his, but I should feel myself cursed for failing to identify, if I lived to the age of Methuselah. You are Master Richard Bowen. You will hardly deny it, I think.”