Well, gentlemen, amongst those persons I instantly recognised a face long familiar to me. It was my uncle's!
Poor old man! He had dreadfully changed. His iron grey hair had become perfectly white, his black eyebrows "a sable silvered." He stooped very much, and the muscles of his face were drooping and flaccid, while his ruby nose had lost its fine rich colour and faded into a sickly ashen hue. The individual next to him I recognised at once as our common friend, Mr. Langton. Then I saw a strange face which I concluded must be the doctor. There was also my deaf and dumb boy, who had not long brought up my basin of broth, as it was still steaming, and he was awaiting my recovery.
Little more remains to be told. My poor uncle, as our friend Langton had prophesied, had been obliged to sue for a divorce, shortly after which his worthless partner eloped with a paramour. The whole sad occurrence preyed upon the old man's mind, and brought on a dangerous illness, from which, however, he recovered. During his illness he had spoken much of his nephew, and on his recovery the doctor had recommended him a change of scene to divert his mind. As he had expressed a wish to see his nephew once more before he died, his friend Langton had offered to accompany him. The doctor also formed one of the party, and they had travelled together to Jena as an agreeable surprise for me.
It is needless to add that all former differences were forgotten, and that my old uncle resolved never to make a fool of himself again. He even encouraged his nephew's studies, and gave his sanction at length that my friend the chemist's son should join me in my studies. My health rapidly improved under careful treatment, and I never saw any more visions. I quite gave up alchemy, and applied myself to other branches of chemistry. Nevertheless, my studies had not been quite useless, as in my search after the philosopher's stone, I had made several very curious discoveries in science, and my name soon became famous throughout the university.
My uncle's illness had wrought as great a change morally as it had done physically in him. His nature was completely changed. His treatment of me was now of the kindest. He seemed even to respect me for the perseverance I had shown in my studies and to be ashamed of his former narrow-minded notions. He remained with me at Jena until his health and my health had completely recovered, when I accompanied him to England, where I once more saw my friend, the chemist's son, whom I subsequently took out with me to Jena, where we pursued our studies together for some three years, after which we both returned to England, where I took up my quarters at my uncle's house.
The admiral lived a good ten years after his illness, and died at the good old age of ninety, leaving to me his entire fortune.