not only that his cousin and her father might have the poor felicity of
thanking him, but because he was himself entranced by the manner of the
man, and like May, saw something mysteriously beautiful shining through
his eyes. The three--a young lawyer, a Wall Street merchant, and
Hal--now tracked the fireman's steps with a "zeal worthy of a better
cause." Hal did not think he was showing any very good manners in thus
pursuing a person who quite evidently did not wish to be known; still he
had once accosted the stranger in a gentlemanly manner, and received no
satisfactory reply, so now he had decided, cost what it might, to make
what discoveries he was able to, with or without leave.

This time it was down, down Broadway, through Fulton to Peck Slip. The
stranger's light, almost boyish form moved swiftly, but evenly onward,
while behind him fell the measured tread of Hal and his companions.
Arrived at the pier, instead of crossing over by the ferry, the stranger
unloosed a small boat, and springing into it, seized the oars, turning
back a half scornful, half merry glance at his pursuers. Hal was not to
be outwitted thus. He quickly procured a boat, and the three soon
overtook the stranger. They rowed silently along, not a word spoken from
either boat, the oars falling musically upon the waves, darkness still
brooding over the waters. The stranger made no attempt to land, but held
on his course up the East River until they approached Hurl Gate.

"I do believe we are following the devil!" exclaimed the lawyer,
suddenly, recalling some of his questionable deeds, as he heard the roar
of the whirlpools, and saw the foam glistening in the dim light.

"He never came in such a shape as that!" laughed Hal, whose admiration
of the stranger momentarily increased as he watched his skilful
pilotage.