"Then you go home," he said. "I will send for you when I want you." The moment she was out of the room, he rang his bell violently. Mewks appeared. "Go after that young woman--do you hear? You know her--Miss--damn it, what's her name?--Harland or Cranston, or--oh, hang it! you know well enough, you rascal!" "Do you mean Miss Marston, sir?" "Of course I do! Why didn't you say so before? Go after her, I tell you; and make haste. If she goes straight home--you know where--come back as soon as she's inside the door." "Yes, sir." "Damn you, go, or you'll lose sight of her!" "I'm a-listenin' after the street-door, sir. It ain't gone yet. There it is now!" And with the word he left the room. Mary was too much absorbed in her own thoughts to note that she was followed by a man with the collar of his great-coat up to his eyes, and a woolen comforter round his face. She walked on steadily for home, scarce seeing the people that passed her. It was clear to Mewks that she had not a suspicion of being kept in sight. He saw her in at her own door, and went back to his master. CHAPTER XLIV. JOSEPH JASPER. Another fact Mewks carried to his master--namely, that, as Mary came near the door of the house, she was met by "a rough-looking man," who came walking slowly along, as if he had been going up and down waiting for her. He made her an awkward bow as she drew near, and she stopped and had a long conversation with him--such at least it seemed to Mewks, annoyed that he could hear nothing of it, and fearful of attracting their attention--after which the man went away, and Mary went into the house. This report made his master grin, for, through the description Mewks gave, he suspected a thief disguised as a workman; but, his hopes being against the supposition, he dwelt the less upon it.