Turning from Broadway, as the night grew darker, he entered the street in which the house of Evelyn Somers, Sr., was situated. He was rapidly approaching that house,--cogitating what manner of excuse he should make to the servants for his call at such an unusual hour,--when he was startled by the sound of footsteps. He paused, where a street lamp flung its light over the pavement. Shading his eyes, he beheld two figures approaching through the gloom. He glided from the light, and stationed himself against the wall, so that he could see the figures as they passed, himself unseen. The steps drew near and nearer, and presently from the gloom the figures passed into the light. A man, wrapped in a cloak, with a broad _sombrero_ drooping over his face, supported on his arm the form of a youth, who, clad in a closely buttoned frock-coat, trembled from weakness, or from the winter's cold. The face of the man was in shadow, but the light shone fully on the face of the youth as he passed by. Tarleton, with great difficulty, suppressed an ejaculation and an oath. For in that boy who leaned tremblingly upon the arm of the cloaked man, he recognized the _Private Secretary_ of the merchant prince! "Courage, my poor boy,"--Tarleton heard the cloaked man utter these words, as he passed by,--"it was a happy impulse which led me to leave my carriage, and walk along this street. I arrived just in time to save you; it is but a step to my carriage, and once in my carriage you will tell me all." "O, sir, you will protect me,"--the voice of the youth was tremulous and broken,--"you will protect me from this man----" And with these words they passed from the light into the gloom again. Tarleton stood for a moment, as though nailed to the wall against which he leaned. He could not believe the evidence of his senses. That the boy, Gulian Van Huyden, the private secretary had left the mansion of the merchant prince, at this strange hour, and was now in the care of a man whom he, Tarleton, did not know; this fact was plain enough, but Tarleton could not believe it. He stood as though nailed to the wall, while the footsteps of the retreating figures resounded through the stillness. At length, with a violent effort, he recovered his presence of mind. "I will follow them and reclaim _my child_!" he ejaculated, and gathering his cloak across the lower part of his face, hurried once more toward Broadway. But as he discovered the distance between himself and the figures of the cloaked man and the youth, his purpose failed him, he knew not why,--he dared not address the man, much less seize the boy, Gulian,--but he still hung upon their back, watching their every movement, himself unobserved. Meanwhile, a thousand vague suspicions and fears flitted through his mind.