"'Who, then, are you?' said he, taking hold of my arm. 'Your voice reaches the very depth of my heart. It seems to me that I know you. Show me your face. But no, I do not wish to see it. It terrifies me!'
"'Oh, Albert!' said I, forgetting myself and all prudence; 'so you also fear me.'
"He trembled from head to foot, and murmured with an expression of terror and religious respect—
"'Yes—it is my mother! My mother's voice!'
"'I do not know your mother,' said I, terrified at my imprudence. 'I know your name only because it is so familiar to every pauper. Why do I terrify you? Is your mother dead?'
"'They say so; but I know better,' said he. 'She lives.'
"'Where?'
"'In my heart!—in my mind!—continually and eternally! I have dreamed of her voice and features a hundred—a thousand times!'
"I was terrified and charmed at his mysterious love of me. I saw in him, however, unmistakable signs of craziness. To soothe him I overcame my emotion.
"'Albert,' I said, 'I knew your mother. I was her friend. I was requested by her to speak to you some day, when you were old enough to comprehend what I had to say. I am not what I appear to be. I followed you yesterday and also to-day for the purpose only of speaking to you. Listen to me, therefore, calmly, and do not suffer yourself to be disturbed by vain fancies. Will you go with me beneath those colonades, which now are deserted, and talk with me? Are you sufficiently calm and collected for that?'