"That I will tell you, when you have taken me to a place, where we can converse freely together."
Herman hesitated.
"Well, as you will," said the man—"It concerns you as much as it does me. You are afraid to grant me an interview. Good night—"
Thus speaking, he carelessly turned away.
Now Herman was afraid of the man, but there were other Men of whom he was more afraid. So balancing one fear against another, he came to this conclusion, that the man might communicate something, which would save him from the other Men, and so he called the stranger back.
"Why this concealment?" he asked.
"You will confess, after we have talked together, that I have good reasons for this concealment," was the answer of the man.
"Come, then, with me," said Herman, "I will not take you to my own rooms, but I will take you to the rooms of a friend. He is out of town and we can converse at our ease."
He led the way toward the room of the Rev. Dr. Bulgin, whom the profane sometimes called Bulgine, which, as the learned know, is good Ethiopian for Steam Engine. This seemed to imply that the Rev. Dr. was a perfect Locomotive in his way.
"My friend Bulgin," said Herman, as they arrived in front of a massive four story building, on a cross street, not more than a quarter of a mile from the head of Broadway, "occupies the entire upper floor of this house, as a study. There he secludes himself while engaged in the composition of his more elaborate works. He has a body servant and a maid servant to wait upon him; and a parlor down stairs, for the reception of his visitors; but he has no communication with the other part of the house. In fact, he never sees the occupants of the boarding-house beneath his study. He rents his rooms of the lady who keeps the boarding-house,—Mrs. Smelgin,—who supplies his meals. Thus, he has the upper part of the house all to himself; and as I have a key to his rooms, we can go up there and talk at our ease."