I knew him well; he was the very man I had seen in my third and last dream; the same noble, calm features; the same commanding presence; the same keen, clear eyes; the same compelling smile.

There was nothing extraordinary about his appearance except his stately bearing and handsome countenance; his dress was that of any well-to-do gentleman of the present day, and there was no affectation of mystery in his manner.

He advanced and bowed courteously; then, with a friendly look, held out his hand.

I gave him mine at once.
"So you are the young musician ?" he said, in those warm mellifluous accents that I had heard before and that I so well remembered.

"My friend Raffaello Cellini has written to me about you.