"Nothing more since I saw you yesterday morning, Jem," replied Holford. "I have lost all trace of him."
"But are you sure that it was him you saw the day before yesterday?" demanded Crankey Jem—for he was the individual with the weather-beaten countenance and slouched hat.
"Don't you think I know him well enough, after all I have told you concerning him?" said Henry Holford, smiling. "When you and I accidentally met for the first time, the day before yesterday, in this parlour, and when in the course of the conversation that sprang up between us, I happened to mention the name of Tidkins, I saw how you fired—how you coloured—how agitated you became. What injury has he done you, that you are so bitter against him?"
"I will tell you another time, Harry," answered Crankey Jem. "My history is a strange one—and you shall know it all. But I must find out the lurking-hole of this miscreant Tidkins. You say he was well dressed?"
"As well as a private person can be," answered Holford. "But did the Resurrection Man put on the robes of the greatest monarch in the world, he could not mitigate the atrocious expression of his cadaverous—hang-dog countenance. I confess that I am afraid of that man:—yes—I am afraid of him!"
"He was well-dressed, and was stepping into a cab at the stand under the Charterhouse wall, you said?" observed Crankey Jem.
"Yes—and he said, 'To the Mint—Borough,'" replied Holford: "those were his very words—and away the cab went."
"And you have since been to see if you could recognise the cab, and pump the cab-man?" continued Jem.
"By your request I have done so," answered Holford; "and my researches have been altogether unsuccessful. I could not find the particular cab which he took."
"Why didn't you question the waterman and the drivers?" asked Jem.