It sounded mysterious and I began to wonder more and more what he had to say. I daresay I should have put my wonder into words, only just at that moment, who should I see, peeping at us round the corner of the street which we were passing, but the man who paid our bill at Firandolo’s, and who said his name was Isaac Rudd. The sight of him gave me quite a shock.
“There’s Isaac Rudd!” I cried.
“Isaac—who?” asked Emily. She can be dull.
“Why, the man who paid the bill last night.”
Then she understood. Out went her head through the window.
“Where? I don’t see him.”
“No, and he’ll take care you won’t. Unless I’m mistaken, directly he knew I saw him he took himself away; but he’s got his eye upon us all the same.” I looked at Emily, and she at me. Mr. Paine saw that something was up.
“Who was that you’re speaking of? Someone who has been annoying you?”
“No—nothing. Only there was something a little queer took place last night.”
I sat silent, thinking of Isaac Rudd; as, I daresay, was Emily too. Putting two and two together, it was odd that he should be just there at that particular moment. Especially as, a little farther on, I saw, standing in the shadow of a doorway, a man in a long black overcoat, with his hat crushed over his eyes, who bore the most amazing resemblance to the foreigner who had given me the something in a scrap of paper.
Suddenly I jumped up from my seat. I was so startled that I could not help but give a little scream. They both stared at me.
“What is wrong?” asked Mr. Paine.
“Why, look at that!”
There, sitting, as it were, bolt upright on my knee
