"Where did you see the person you took for Mr. Lyon?"

"Not far distant from here?"

"Where?"

"A little way from the railroad station. He was coming in this
direction, and, without questioning the man's identity, I naturally
supposed that he was on his way to your house."

"Singular! Very singular!" Mr. Markland spoke to himself.

"I met Fanny a little while afterward," continued Mr. Allison, "and
I learned from her that Mr. Lyon had actually left the city. No
doubt I was mistaken; but the person I saw was remarkably like your
friend from England."

"Where did you meet Fanny?" abruptly asked Mr. Markland.

"In the little summer-house, yonder. I stepped aside, as I often do,
to enjoy the quiet beauty of the place for a few moments, and found
your daughter there alone. She answered, as you have done, my
inquiry about Mr. Lyon, that he left for the South a few days
before."

"He did. And yet, singularly enough, you are not the only one who
has mentioned to me that a person resembling Mr. Lyon was seen after
he had left for the South--seen, too, almost on the very day that
letters from him arrived by mail. The coincidence is at least
remarkable."