At
any rate he had not done with Bauer, and I very soon received
proof of the fact. My house is a couple of miles from the
station, and we have to pass through a considerable part of the
old town, where the streets are narrow and tortuous and progress
necessarily slow. We had just entered the Konigstrasse (and it
must be remembered that I had at that time no reason for
attaching any special significance to this locality), and were
waiting impatiently for a heavy dray to move out of our path,
when my coachman, who had overheard the butler's conversation
with me, leant down from his box with an air of lively
excitement.
"My lord," he cried, "there's Bauer--there, passing the butcher's
shop!"
I sprang up in the carriage; the man's back was towards me, and
he was threading his way through the people with a quick,
stealthy tread. I believe he must have seen me, and was slinking
away as fast as he could. I was not sure of him, but the coachman
banished my doubt by saying, "It's Bauer--it's certainly Bauer,
my lord."
I hardly stayed to form a resolution. If I could catch this
fellow or even see where he went, a most important clue as to
Rupert's doings and whereabouts might be put into my hand.
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