The coal-heaver continues his walk with a heavy, long stride. He has earned a good night's wage; these enormous English coal-steamers and the many merchantmen from all over the world are indeed a blessing to such as he! His shovel is shiny with wear; he shifts it to his other shoulder and it glitters with every step he takes, signals to heaven with gleaming flashes; it cuts the air like a weapon and shines like silver. The coal-heaver runs foul of a gentleman coming out of a gateway; the gentleman smells of liquor and looks a little shaky; his clothes are silk-lined. As soon as he has lit a cigar he saunters down the street and disappears. The gentleman's face is small and round, like a girl's; he is young and promising; it is Ojen, leader and model for all youthful poets. He has been in the mountains to regain his health, and since his return he has had many glorious nights; his friends have acclaimed him without ceasing. As he turns toward the fortress he meets a man he seems to know; they both stop. "Pardon me, but haven't we met before?" asks Ojen politely. The stranger answers with a smile: "Yes, on Torahus. We spent an evening together." "Of course; your name is Coldevin. I thought I knew you. How are you?" "Oh, so so--But are you abroad so early?" "Well, to tell the truth, I haven't been to bed yet." "Oh, I see!" "The fact of the matter is that I have hardly been in bed a single night since my return. I am in the hands of my friends. And that means that I am in my element once more--It is strange, Mr. Coldevin, how I need the city; I love it! Look at these houses, these straight, pure lines! I only feel at home here. The mountains--Lord preserve us! And yet, I expected much when I went there." "How did you get on? Did you get rid of your nervousness?" "Did I? To tell you the truth, my nervousness is part of myself; it belongs to me, as the Doctor says; there is nothing to be done about it." "So you have been to the mountains and substantiated the fact that your nervousness is chronic? Poor young talent, to be afflicted with such a weakness!" Ojen looked at him in amazement. But Coldevin smiled and continued to talk innocently. So he did not like the country? But did he not feel that his talent had been benefited by the mountain air? "Not at all. I have never noticed that my talent stood in need of bracing." "Of course not." "I have written a lengthy prose poem while I was away, so you see I have not altogether wasted my time. Well, you will pardon me for renewing our acquaintance so abruptly; but I must get home and get a little sleep now. Very pleased to have met you again." And Ojen walked off. Coldevin shouted after him: "But it is the 17th of May to-day!" Ojen turned and looked surprised. "Well, what of it?" Coldevin shook his head and laughed shortly. "Nothing. Nothing at all. I only wanted to see if you remembered it. And I see that you remembered it perfectly."