able to speak and to write I address to you who have
such good cause to hate me, and that word is--mercy!
I ask of you mercy towards that son of mine to whom I myself have
never shown mercy. I ask for mercy from you who in your judicial
capacity have never shown mercy to anyone. You know full well
that all the faults of this child of mine are due entirely to me.
You know that my cruelty has made life a wilderness to him and
filled him with cynical bitterness--he who was always so
tender-hearted that even an angry look was pain to him. Behold,
sir! the one man who could venture to insult you with impunity
now lies in the dust before you, and begs for your compassion.
And in order that such compassion may not appear as rust on your
iron character, show this letter to the world and say: 'My mortal
enemy has wept before me in the dust in order that I might
condescend to stoop down and raise him up.' Your humbled,
eternally faithful servant,

"BENJAMIN HETFALUSY."

"Would you look at this letter, sir?" asked the old man, turning
towards the stranger--and there were tears in his eyes.

"I thank you," faltered the stranger, and he himself hastened to fold up
the letter and seal it.

"Szephalmi will deliver it."

"Nay, sir, I will see to that myself."

"_You_ will? But who, then, are you?"

"That I will tell you--perhaps--some day."

The old man took the youth's hand in both his, and pressing them warmly,
said in a voice that trembled with emotion:

"God help you!"

At that moment Dr. Sarkantyus peeped in at the door, and was amazed to
see the old man talking and writing the address on a letter with his own
right hand, while his whole countenance was warm with feeling. This
magnetic cure was truly marvellous.

He approached the youth and, bowing respectfully, remarked,

"Mossoo! vooz ate oon anshantoor!"

"Possibly, but why should we not speak Hungarian?" replied the other
smiling.

"Then you are not French?" asked the dumfounded doctor.

"Why should I be? It does not follow because a person may have just come
from France that therefore he is a Frenchman, does it?"

"All the better pleased, I am sure, my dear colleague!"--and then it
suddenly occurred to him that only a short time ago he had said to him
in Hungarian: "The Devil may be your colleague, I'm not!"

"All you have to do now is to give the patient tonics; that won't