have not mistaken our
man, depend on it."

"I think not."

"I know we have not," was the confident rejoinder.

"Any further word from him, since I left?"

"I had a letter yesterday. He was about leaving for Mexico."

"Are you speaking of Mr. Lyon, the young Englishman whom I saw in
your office frequently, a short time since?" inquired a gentleman
who sat reading the morning paper.

"The same," replied Mr. Brainard.

"Did you say he had gone to Mexico?"

"Yes, or was about leaving for that country. So he informed me in a
letter I received from him yesterday."

"In a letter?" The man's voice expressed surprise.

"Yes. But why do you seem to question the statement?"

"Because I saw him in the city day before yesterday."

"In the city!"

"Yes, sir. Either him or his ghost."

"Oh! you're mistaken."

"I think not. It is rarely that I'm mistaken in the identity of any
one."

"You are, assuredly, too certain in the present instance," said Mr.
Markland, turning to the gentleman who had last spoken, "for, it's
only a few days since I received letters from him written at
Savannah."

Still the man was positive.

"He has a hair-mole on his cheek, I believe."

Mr. Brainard and Mr. Markland looked at each other doubtingly.

"He has," was admitted by the latter.

"But that doesn't make identity," said Mr. Brainard, with an
incredulous smile. "I've seen many men, in my day, with moles on
their faces."

"True enough," was answered; "but you never saw two Mr. Lyons."

"You are very positive," said Mr. Brainard, growing serious. "Now,
as we believe him to be at the South, and you say that he was here
on the day before yesterday, the matter assumes rather a perplexing
shape. If he really was here, it is of the first importance that we
should know it; for we are about trusting important interests to his
hands. Where, then, and under what circumstances, did you see him?"

"I saw him twice."

"Where?"

"The first time, I saw him alighting from a carriage, at the City
Hotel. He had, apparently, just arrived, as there was a trunk behind
the carriage."

"Singular!" remarked Mr. Brainard, with a slightly disturbed manner.

"You are mistaken in the person," said Mr. Markland, positively.

"It may be so," returned the gentleman.

"Where did you next see him?" inquired Mr. Brainard.

"In the neighbourhood of the--Railroad Depot. Being aware that he
had spent several days with Mr. Markland, it occurred to me