"I have heard a whisper," said the pursy man, "that some one is suspicioned." He nodded his head, and panted, as though the thing excited him. "It was not the watch who came upon the thing; the watch is too slow-going for that. But, when all was confusion and every one at his wit's end, it bobs up unexpectedly of its own accord." "Some one suspicioned?" said the man in the greatcoat, hungrily. "Who is it?" But the other shook his head. "I don't know," said he. "It was only a whisper I got, and it was not meant for my ears. This Magruder had a ship in that day, and there was much to occupy him at his place of business. He remained after his clerks and porters had gone, so they tell; and, about eight, went to a tavern for a chop and a glass of ale, for he was none of your great eaters, having a slim stomach and a none too liberal hand. The people of the tavern say he left there before nine, and it's thought that he went straightaway back to his counting-room and there remained." "But the suspicioned person?" said the man in the greatcoat, anxiously, not caring to miss this chance of putting the prisons and gallows to their proper use. "How came it to fall upon him?" "Some one," said the pursy man, "was seen to leave Magruder's place by the counting-room door, which is in the back. Very quietly is the manner in which the person is said to have left, and at an hour that was unusual." "There should be no difficulty in apprehending the villain," said the other man. "All the evilly disposed in the city should be taken charge of; and the man could be picked from among them." But the pursy man seemed to doubt this method. "That would not suffice," said he, "for we could not be sure the crime was done by one given to public villainy." "You would not think of suspecting any honest man!" said the other, aghast. "What would you say if you heard--only in a whisper, however, and the whisper not meant for you--that the criminal was not a man at all, but a woman?" Anthony felt his blood chill; he waited to hear no more, but arose and went into the passage. Here, just entering, he encountered Whitaker, who was most gracefully attired in cream-colored pantaloons, a blue coat with dull copper buttons, a frilled neck-cloth, and a fawn-hued beaver, the brim of which curled magnificently. "I thought I'd chance upon you," said this young gentleman, as he shook Anthony's hand. "I'm on my way to Mrs. Newell's, here in Fourth Street. Charming woman, and loves music. She usually has some one who can finger a harp, or a pianoforte; there's a German who plays upon a flute most excellently; and some of her guests always sing. Come along; Mrs. Newell will be delighted."