rather under a cloud; and, if you have no objection, would prefer to
remain anonymous, or to preserve my incognito, as they say, for some
time longer."

"Have you no alias, by which you may be known?"

"Unquestionably, an alias I have," replied the other; "for as to passing
through life, in the broad, anonymous sense, without some token to
distinguish you by, the thing, to a man like me, is impossible. I am
consequently known as Frank Fenton, a name I borrowed from a former
friend of mine, an old school-fellow, who, while he lived, was, like
myself, a bit of an original in his way. How do you like our town, sir,"
he added, changing the subject.

"I have seen too little of it," replied the stranger, "to judge. Is this
your native town, Mr. Fenton," he added.

"No, sir; not my native town," replied Fenton; "but I have resided here
from hand to mouth long enough to know almost every individual in the
barony at large."

During this dialogue, the stranger eyed Fenton, as he called himself,
very closely; in fact, he watched every feature of his with a degree of
curiosity and doubt that was exceedingly singular.

"Have you, sir, been here before." asked Fenton; "or is this your first
visit?"

"It is not my first visit," replied the other; "but it is likely I shall
reside here for some months."