"There," said he, handing them to Van, "is the likeness of myself, and also those of my family, when I had been two years married."
As Van gazed at the pictures a mist came before his eyes, and he was forced to catch the back of a chair for support.
The photos were those of a young man and woman, and an infant of probably a year old.
But this was not what caused Van to act so strangely. He carried duplicates of those very pictures in his pockets.
The man and woman were his father and mother, and the infant was himself.
That settled the whole business.
Father and son were united after years of separation.
"But, father," said Van, after both had somewhat recovered from their excitement, "how was it that you never came home?"
"It was impossible for me to make the attempt, my boy. Through the treachery of one of my own party, I lost my left leg just before I reached the gate of this wonderful city.
"I was picked up by the Utopians, and nursed back to health and strength, and then, knowing the terrible dangers I had passed through in order to reach this place, I agreed to live with them always, since it would be naught but suicide for me to start for the coast alone, crippled as I was.