Accordingly, three or four days after, Richards called at Morton's lodgings, with an air of great self-satisfaction. "I have spotted your game for you, sir, and he won't run away in a hurry, either. He'll be sure to wait till you come. He's in jail." "What, for debt?" "No, for an assault on a Frenchman. It was about a woman, a friend of Speyer's. You know I told you what a jealous fellow he is." And he proceeded to recount what further information he had gained. "Odd," pondered Richards, after parting from Morton, "that a millionnaire like him, and not at all a mean man either, should trouble himself so much about any picayune debt that Speyer can owe him. There is something in this business more than I can make out." While Richards occupied himself with these reflections, Morton repaired to his lodgings and made his preparations. On the next morning, he was in New York again. He went to the jail where Speyer was confined, and readily gained leave to see him. A somewhat loquacious officer, who was to conduct him to the prisoner's room, confirmed what Richards had told him, and gave him some new particulars. Speyer, he said, had never before, to his knowledge, come under the notice of the police. He had been living in good lodgings, and in a somewhat showy style. The person who had occasioned the quarrel was an Italian girl. "She comes every day to see him," said the policeman--"she's a wild one, I tell you; and he frets himself to death because he is shut up here, and can't be round to look after her." "So much the better," thought Morton, who hoped that this impatience would aid him in his intended negotiation. "For how long a time is he sentenced?" he asked. "For three weeks; unless he can find somebody to pay his fine for him." On entering the prisoner's room, Morton saw a man of about forty, well dressed, though in a jail, but whose sallow features, deep-set eyes, and square, massive lower jaw, well covered with a black beard, indicated a character likely to be any thing but tractable. If he had been either a gentleman on the one hand, or a common ruffian on the other, his visitor might have better known how to deal with him; but he had the look of one to whom, whatever he might be at heart, a various contact with mankind had armed with an invincible self-possession, and guarded at all points against surprise.