These he had seen before, he felt sure of it; but the promenader's long white beard and long curly white hair perplexed him.

However, the other halted, also looking extremely astonished, though he promptly exclaimed, "What, Pierre?
Is it you, at Lourdes ?" Then all at once the young priest recognised Doctor Chassaigne, his father's old friend, his own friend, the man who had cured and consoled him in the terrible physical and mental crisis which had come upon him after his mother's death.
"Ah! my dear doctor, how pleased I am to see you!" he replied.
They embraced with deep emotion.

And now, in presence of that snowy hair and snowy beard, that slow walk, that sorrowful demeanour, Pierre remembered with what unrelenting ferocity misfortune had fallen on that unhappy man and aged him.

But a few years had gone by, and now, when they met again, he was bowed down by destiny.
"You did not know, I suppose, that I had remained at Lourdes ?" said the doctor.

"It's true that I no longer write to anybody; in fact, I am no longer among the living.