Princeton University Guest Lecture to FUB201.

Brother Lazarus had arrived in Princeton University in New Jersey. This was his last American stop, travelling West to East, before heading off to Rouen to kick off the European leg of his speaking tour. He delivered his lecture as he had routinely done before scanning across the faces in the packed lecture theatre. But he felt something was off when his gaze went past a young man, sat by the aisle, keenly paying attention to this lecture. He was dressed in the style common among the middle/upper middle classes of New England yet instinctually... Lazarus knew something was wrong and had to double back on him. He paused mid lecture, his focus on this young man who's head was bowed, scribbling on his notepad. The silence aroused the suspicion and intrigue of the entire room.

The young man finally raised his head up and found Lazarus was solely focused on him. Lazarus had seen his kind before and wondered if had known him before.

"You seem familiar. Have we met before ?" Lazarus asked.

"I don't think we have," responded the young man "I think I'd remember."

"I can't quite place my finger on it. Maybe from the Bruins season ticket holder's dinner ? Or maybe somewhere around Cape Cod"

"Yes my family regularly attends the Bruins dinner and we do holday every summer at Cape Cod. You may know my father, Mr.Buchanan ? "

"My mistake."

Lazarus perked up, hiding his smirk. He had figured it out.

Lazarus continued with his lecture and began to slowly walk up the aisle, stopping on the stair tread right above him and stood there towering over him as he delivered his lecture. The young man remained buried in his note book as he had before, yet this time, like a deer trapped in the head lights, he anxiously faced forward and dared not to look back for a reason he could not explain.

It was now for the 3rd part of his lecture. He clicked on his pointer and the leftmost slide on the projector changed to a new title slide, "IRISH IMMIGRATION INTO AMERICA IN THE 19-20th CENTURY".
He walked closer to the young man, who was now slightly trembling and lightly sweating.

"Sir!" Lazarus called out, now standing over him within half a foot. The young man looked over his shoulder and up at Lazarus. Lazarus locked with his beady eyes and saw a familiar stare he had seen countless of times before and asked, "Where's YOUR family from ?"