I will not try to describe how I passed the day. It would be wearisome to the reader to tell him how often I looked at my watch and thought of the precious hours that were flying; neither will I speak of my hopes and fears with regard to this idea of finding Kaffar's whereabouts by means of clairvoyance. Suffice it to say I was in a state of feverish anxiety when we drove up to the professor's door that night, about half-past nine.
We did not wait a minute before operations were commenced. Simon was again in a mesmeric sleep, or whatever the reader may be pleased to call it, in a few seconds after he had sat down.
Von Virchow began by asking the same question he had asked in the morning: "Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?"
I waited in breathless silence for the answer. Simon heaved a deep sigh, and peered wearily around, while the professor kept his eye steadily upon him.
"Do you see Kaffar, the Egyptian?" repeated he.
"Yes, I see him," said Simon at length.
"Where?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out," said Simon. "The place is strange; the people talk in a strange tongue. I can't make 'em out."
"What do you see now?" said the professor, touching his forehead.
"Oh, ah, I see now," said Simon. "It's a railway station, and I see that 'ere willain there, jest as cunnin' as ever. He's a gettin' in the train, he is."