My mother trembled all over and hid her face in her
hands.
‘But say now,’ she went on with redoubled
energy, ’was my friend to blame in any way?
What had she to reproach herself with? She was
punished, but had she not the right to declare before
God Himself that the punishment that overtook her
was unjust? Then why is it, that like a criminal,
tortured by stings of conscience, why is it she is
confronted with the past in such a fearful shape after
so many years? Macbeth slew Bancho—so
no wonder that he could be haunted ... but I....’
But here my mother’s words became so mixed and
confused, that I ceased to follow her.... I no
longer doubted that she was in delirium.
The agitating effect of my mother’s recital
on me—any one may easily conceive!
I guessed from her first word that she was talking
of herself, and not any friend of hers. Her slip
of the tongue confirmed my conjecture. Then this
really was my father, whom I was seeking in my dream,
whom I had seen awake by daylight! He had not
been killed, as my mother supposed, but only wounded.
And he had come to see her, and had run away, alarmed
by her alarm. I suddenly understood everything:
the feeling of involuntary aversion for me, which
arose at times in my mother, and her perpetual melancholy,
and our secluded life.... I remember my head seemed
going round, and I clutched it in both hands as though
to hold it still. But one idea, as it were, nailed
me down; I resolved I must, come what may, find that
man again? What for? with what aim? I could
not give myself a clear answer, but to find him ...
find him—that had become a question of life
and death for me! The next morning my mother,
at last, grew calmer ... the fever left her ... she
fell asleep. Confiding her to the care of the
servants and people of the house, I set out on my quest.
First of all I made my way, of course, to the cafe
where I had met the baron; but no one in the cafe
knew him or had even noticed him; he had been a chance
customer there. The negro the people there had
observed, his figure was so striking; but who he was,
and where he was staying, no one knew. Leaving
my address in any case at the cafe, I fell to wandering
about the streets and sea front by the harbour, along
the boulevards, peeped into all places of public resort,
but could find no one like the baron or his companion!...
Not having caught the baron’s surname, I was
deprived of the resource of applying to the police;
I did, however, privately let two or three guardians
of the public safety know—they stared at
me in bewilderment, and did not altogether believe
in me—that I would reward them liberally
if they could trace out two persons, whose exterior
I tried to describe as exactly as possible. After
wandering about in this way till dinner-time, I returned
home exhausted. My mother had got up; but to her
