Upon turning the corner, the footsteps advanced a pace or
two, faltered, slackened, stopped. For an instant there was silence.
The doctor knew that the man had been struck by his attentive figure, and
was pausing to regard it, to consider it. What would be the result of the
inspection? In a moment the doctor knew. The footsteps sounded again,
this time in retreat.
On this the impulse of the doctor to flee changed, giving way to a
strict desire and determination. He was resolved to interview this
night-wanderer, to see his face. A greedy anxiety for view, for
question, of this person came upon him. He, too, wheeled round, and
followed hastily in pursuit. The man had already escaped from his sight
into Vere Street, and the doctor broke into a soft run until he reached
the corner, skirting which, the man was immediately in his view, but
at a considerable distance from him. As the doctor sprang upon the
pavement the man turned round, and, evidently observing that he was
pursued, quickened his steps impulsively. The doctor was now absolutely
determined to address him, and began openly to run. And he was not far
from coming up with the fellow when he suddenly whistled a passing
hansom, bounded in, and thrust up the trapdoor in the roof.
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