"The clock had just struck ten when upon the bridge appeared a man
in a light summer coat, of about the same age as the young
scientist. His face was pale, of waxen color, without the slightest
natural red in his cheeks; his particularly prominent nose
indicated his Jewish extraction; his forehead was high and large,
his head was strongly developed. He walked straight over to the man
who was waiting and who quickly arose.
"'Good evening. I see you have received my letter. Have you it with
you?'
"'Yes, I know it by heart, I have read it so many times. "My
friend," it is written there, "I have promised to give you the key
to the Caballah, if I ever find the opportunity to do so. Although
I am not always in the habit of fulfilling my vows, I am ready to
fulfil this one, if you will wait for me in the evening of October
8, in Prague, on the old Moldau bridge, under the statue of
Nepomucenus." Then follows your name.'
"'Yes, that is correct. Have you not yet given up your desire?'
"'Less than ever before! You would render science an invaluable
service.'
"'Listen, doctor, bend down a little over the rail; that of which
we speak must not be heard even by the waves of the Moldau, if we
wish to remain alive.'
"The young scientist looked in astonishment at his comrade, but did
as he desired.
"'Three years ago, in Rome, when I promised to acquaint you with
the mysteries of the Caballah, I did it more for the sake of
boasting of a power and authority which, in reality, I did not
possess.
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