The same man frequently came again to walk home with the ladies, and this vague, distant, familiar resemblance which he could not place worried the old man so much that he made his wife come with him to see if she could help his impaired memory.
One evening as it was growing dusk the three strangers entered together. When they had passed the old man said:
“Well, do you know him?”
His wife anxiously tried to ransack her memory. Suddenly she said in a low tone:
“Yes—yes—but he is darker, taller, stouter and is dressed like a gentleman, but, father, all the same, it is your face when you were young!”
The old man started violently.
It was true. He looked like himself and also like his brother who was dead, and like his father, whom he remembered while he was yet young. The old couple were so affected that they could not speak. The three persons came out and were about to leave the church.
The man touched his finger to the holy water sprinkler. Then the old man, whose hand was trembling so that he was fairly sprinkling the ground with holy water, exclaimed:
“Jean!”
The young man stopped and looked at him.