Turning from that stately mansion, in which father and son lay dead, we will follow the steps of Rev. Herman Barnhurst. CHAPTER XIII. THE REVEREND VOLUPTUARIES. As the REV. HERMAN BARNHURST passed from the hall-door of the palace of the merchant prince, and descended the marble steps, his thoughts were by no means of a pleasant character. The image of Alice, for the moment forgotten, the thoughts of Herman were occupied with the scene which he had just witnessed,--the hopeless death-bed of the merchant prince. "The fool!" muttered Herman, drawing his cloak around him, and pulling his hat over his brows, "The miserable fool! To die without making a will, when he has no heirs and the church has done so much for him. Why (in his own phrase) it has been _capital_ to him, in the way of reputation; he has grown rich by that reputation; and now he dies, leaving the church and her ministers,--not a single copper, not a single copper." It was too early for Herman to return to his home,--so he thought,--therefore, he directed his steps toward Broadway, resolving, in spite of the late hour of the night, to pay a visit to one of his most intimate friends. But, as he left the palace of the merchant prince, a MAN wrapped also in a cloak, and with a cap over his eyes, rose from the shadows behind the marble steps, and walked with an almost noiseless pace in the footsteps of the young clergyman. This man had seen Herman enter the house of the merchant prince. Standing himself in the darkness behind the steps, he had waited patiently until Herman again appeared. In fact, he had followed the steps of the clergyman for at least three hours previous to the moment when he came to the residence of Evelyn Somers, Sr.; followed him from street to street, from house to house, walking fast or slow, as Herman quickened or moderated his pace; stopping when Herman stopped; and thus, for three long hours, he had dogged the steps of the clergyman with a patience and perseverance, that must certainly have been the result of some powerful motive. And now, as the Rev. Herman Barnhurst left the house where the merchant prince lay dead, the MAN in cap and cloak, quietly resumed his march, like a veteran at the tap of the drum. At the moment when Herman reached a dark point of the street near Broadway, the MAN stole noiselessly to his side and tapped him on the shoulder. Herman turned with an ejaculation,--half fear, half wonder. The street was dark and deserted; the lights of Broadway shone two hundred yards ahead. Herman, at a glance, saw that himself and the MAN were the only persons visible. "It's a thief," he thought,--and then, said aloud, in his sweetest voice: "What do you want, my friend?" "_The twenty-fifth of December is near,_" said the MAN, in a slow and significant voice: "I have important information to communicate to you, in relation to the _Van Huyden estate_."