Early on the following morning, in fact, von Hildemaller could have been discovered in a shaky old country vehicle, drawn by a dilapidated pony, being rattled over an incredibly rough road close to that city. Perched on the driving-seat was the rascal whom he had encountered outside the prison on the previous evening. A picturesque rascal to be sure, for there was nothing about this man which denoted his calling. Very soon they entered the gates, and were swallowed up amidst the narrow, tortuous streets of the city, and finally gained the quarters habitually occupied by the German. Yet we have to recount the fact that, quietly as these two had entered Bagdad, unostentatiously as they had made their way through the streets, much as they had sought to escape observation, yet one at least had watched their coming. It was that tall, skinny, bony Jew, who sat, as ever, it seemed, cross-legged on his stall, perched like a bird of evil omen above those embroidered goods, the sale of which appeared to trouble him so little. His beady eyes marked the passing of that clattering vehicle and recognized, while they appeared to be looking at nothing, the picturesque rascal who drove it, and took in in a single fleeting glance the fat features of the German. "So, that man--the one who tracked Douglas Pasha----" he muttered, appearing to address the words rather to the embroidered goods he had for disposal than to any particular person. "Coffee, boy!" he called, clapping his hands. "Coffee, that I may sip it and think." Almost motionless, merely his eyelids blinking, while occasionally his long fingers played over the wares on his stall, the Jew waited for the coffee, and then, taking the cup with a deliberation peculiar to him, lifted it slowly to his lips and sipped it thoughtfully. It was at such times, too, that this curious old man, who had such a strong liking for Douglas Pasha, looked above the rim of the egg-shaped cup and cast his glance over the Bazaar. It masked his movements, as it were, and that cup disguised the fact, from any who might be looking, that he was interested in his immediate surroundings. Not that the man saw anything in particular, merely walls, merely long shadows cast by a brilliant sun, and stalls upon which other figures rested much as he did--motionless figures, men apparently indifferent to their success in business, for not an effort did they make to attract the attention of would-be purchasers and extract money from them. "So!" he muttered again into the coffee-cup. "That man is back, and I have heard tales of a journey to another prison. Perhaps Esbul may give information; perhaps he followed. Who knows? We will wait till the evening."