Volheno sent me the letter I asked for, and when Bryant returned with it I told him to disguise himself also and to watch me from another corner of the Square, and to have Simmons and Foster, who had not gone in the Stella, in a liquor shop close at hand.
Then I slipped out of the house and shuffled off on my search in the character of a match seller. I had about a mile to go across the city to my destination, but I did not reach it. I had just turned into the Rua da Carmo when a man carrying a bag and having the air of a commercial traveller crossed the street and came up to buy a box of matches.
His disguise was good, but as he lit his cigarette I recognized him. It was Marco; and in a moment my other plan was abandoned and I decided to follow him.
He made straight for the Central Station. After studying the time-tables, he went to the booking place, entered into conversation with the clerk and bought some tickets, turned away with a casual air and left the building again.
Either Pia was all wrong in her guess as to the locality where Barosa was likely to hide, or Marco was not going back to him. He sauntered idly across the Square of San Pedro, turned into the Rua Bitesgo, quickened his pace slightly as he reached the Rua da Magdalena, and branching off to the left, when about half-way down, threaded his way at a quick pace among the maze of streets which form the district of Eastern Lisbon.
This was directly in the opposite direction from that which Pia had suggested; but I was certain by the change from his former sauntering pace to a quick stride, that he was taking me where I wanted to go.
His speed made it difficult for me to keep him in sight without his discovering that I was shadowing him. Twice I nearly lost him as he made a double turn in the short tortuous streets, and after that I had to lessen the distance between us, doing my best to slink along in the shadow of the houses.
Presently he turned into a very steep hilly street and, slackening, began to look about him warily. I guessed that he was getting near his destination, and redoubled my caution. About half-way down the hill he stopped at the corner of a dark street somewhat wider than the rest, where the houses were larger, and I slipped to cover in the wide porch of a house on the opposite side.
Two men were in sight, one coming down the hill and the other up, and lighting a cigarette as a pretext for loitering, Marco waited until both men had passed and gave each of them a sharp searching look. As soon as they were out of sight, he turned and hurried along the side street.
I followed quickly, but when I reached the corner he had disappeared.