One night as he slept he thought he heard some one calling him. He listened intently and could make out nothing but the roaring of the waves. But the same voice repeated:
“Julian!”
It came from the other side, which seemed extraordinary, considering the breadth of the river.
A third time the call came:
“Julian!”
And the loud voice had the tone of a church-bell.
Lighting his lantern he went out of his cabin. A furious hurricane filled the night. The darkness was profound, rent here and there by the whiteness of leaping waves.
After a moment’s hesitation, Julian unfastened the moorings. The water immediately became calm, the boat glided upon it and touched the other bank, where a man was waiting.
He was wrapped in a tattered sheet, his face like a plaster mask, and his two eyes redder than coals. On holding his lantern to him, Julian saw that he was covered with a hideous leprosy; yet he had in his bearing a sort of kingly majesty.