e was intent on securing information concerning
this man he must do it in a surreptitious manner. There was no other
method of dealing with him, he thought, and in view of such
circumstances he deemed it perfectly legitimate to follow him at a safe
distance.

The more he thought over it the more readily did he resolve to take
action to the end that he might see more of him. Whatever mischief was
afoot, and he had no more than a mere suspicion that there was mischief
afoot, must reveal itself sooner or later. His object in all probability
had already been accomplished, nevertheless his errand, if he was
engaged on an errand, might be disclosed. He would follow him if for no
other purpose than to learn of his destination.

Second Street was now astir with a lively procession. There, every day
when business was over, when the bank was closed, when the exchange was
deserted, crowds of seekers came to enjoy the air and to display their
rich garments. There might be found the gentlemen of fashion and of
means, with their great three-cornered cocked hats, resting majestically
upon their profusely powdered hair done up in cues, their light colored
coats, with their diminutive capes and long backs, their striped
stockings, pointed shoes, and lead-laden cuffs, paying homage to the
fair ladies of the town. These, too, were gorgeous in their brocades and
taffetas, luxuriantly displayed over cumbrous hoops, tower-built hats,
adorned with tall feathers, high wooden heels and fine satin petticoats.
It was an imposing picture to behold these gayly dressed damsels gravely
return the salutations of their gallant admirers and courtesy almost to
the ground before them.

Stephen searched deliberately for his man throughout the length of the
crowded thoroughfare, standing the while on the topmost step of the
Governor's Mansion--that great old-fashioned structure resembling in
many details a fortification, with its two wings like bastions extending
to the rear, its spacious yard enclosed with a high wall and ornamented
with two great rows of lofty pine trees. It was the most stately house
within the confines of the city and, with Christ Church, helped to make
Second Street one of the aristocratic thoroughfares of the town.

It was with difficulty that Stephen discerned Anderson walking briskly
in the direction of Market Street. He set off immediately, taking care
to keep at a safe distance behind him. He met several acquaintances, to
whom