“Dar war all sort ob a fuss dat ebber you see, darlin’. Fust de ole woman war all struck ob a heap, like. Den Massa Ratcliff, he come, and he swar like de Debble hisself. He cuss’d de ole woman and set her off cryin’, and den he swar at her all de more. Dar was a gen’ral break-down, darlin’. Massa Ratcliff he’b goin’ ter gib yer fortygraf ter all de policemen, an’ pay five hundred dollar ter dat one as’ll find yer. He sends us niggers all off—me an’ Tarquin an’ de rest—ter hunt yer up. He swar he’ll hab yer, if it takes all he’s wuth. He come agin ter-day an’ trow de ole woman inter de highstrikes. She say he’ll be come up wid, sure, an’ you’ll be come up wid, an’ eberybody else as doesn’t do like she wants ’em ter, am bound to be come up wid. Yah, yah, yah! Who’s afeard?” “So the hounds are out in pursuit, are they?” “Yes, darlin’. Look dar at dat man stahndin’ at de corner. He’m one ob ’em.” “He’s not dressed like a policeman.” “Bress yer heart, dese ’tektivs go dressed like de best gem’men about. Yer’d nebber suspek dey was doin’ de work ob hounds.” “Well, Esha, I’m afraid to have you stay longer. I’m here with Miss Tremaine. She may be back any minute. I can’t trust her, and wouldn’t for the world have her see you here.” “No more would I, darlin’! Nebber liked dat air gal. She’m all fur self. But good by, darlin’! It’s sich a comfort ter hab seed you! Good by!” Esha slipped into the corridor and out of the hotel. Clara put on her bonnet, threw a thick veil over it, and hurried through St. Charles Street to a well-known cutlery store. “Show me some of your daggers,” said she; “one suitable as a present to a young soldier.” The shopkeeper displayed several varieties. She selected one with a sheath, and almost took away the breath of the man of iron by paying for it in gold. Dropping her veil, she passed into the street. As she left the shop, she saw a man affecting to look at some patent pistols in the window. He was well dressed, and sported a small cane. “Hound number one!” thought Clara to herself, and, having walked slowly away in one direction, she suddenly turned, retraced her steps, then took a narrow cross-street that debouched into one of the principal business avenues. The individual had followed her, swinging his cane, and looking in at the shop-windows. But Clara did not let him see he was an object of suspicion. She slackened her pace, and pretended to be looking for an article of muslin, for she would stop and examine the fabrics that hung at the doors.