hard for me to contemplate obtruding myself upon him without some
show of permission on his part. We met--that is, I saw him and he
saw me; but he gave me no opportunity--that is, he did not do what
he might have done, had he felt--had he thought it best to
exchange a word with me."

"Where was this? You were not long in Utica?"

"Only one night. But that was long enough for me to take a walk
down one of the principal thoroughfares and it was during this
walk I saw him. He was on the same side of the street as myself
and rapidly coming my way, but on his eye meeting mine--I could
not mistake that unconscious flash of recognition--he wheeled
suddenly aside into a cross-street where I dared not follow him.
Of course, he did not know what hung on even a momentary
interview. That it was not for myself I--" The firelight caught
something new to shine upon--a tear on lashes which yet refused to
lower themselves.

Mr. Black fidgeted, then put out his hand and laid it softly on
hers.

"Never mind," he grumbled; "men are--" he didn't say what; but it
wasn't anything very complimentary. "You have this comfort," said
he: "the man at the Lodge is undoubtedly Oliver. Had he gone West,
he wouldn't have been seen in Utica three days ago."

"I have never had any doubt about that. I expect to see him to-
morrow, but I shall find it hard to utter my errand quick enough.
There will be a minute when he may misunderstand me. I dread that