“Yes, master.”
“I want you to follow it. You shall have treble fare if you keep it in sight, and not appear to press upon it.”
The waterman gave a long whistle; and then, with a nod of his head, he said—
“All’s right. It’s Ben’s boy as is pulling; and by G—d, there comes your friend.”
“My friend?” said Albert, as he looked back towards the stairs.
There was another wherry darting after them, in the stern of which sat the ugly man.
“Pull away,” said the waterman, with a laugh, as he took long clean sweeps with his oars,—“a stern chase is a long chase.”
CHAPTER XCII.
The Chase on the Thames.—Albert’s Successful Disguise.—The Old Stairs at Buckingham-street.
There was something spirit-stirring and exciting to the young imagination of Albert Seyton in the turn things had taken, as regarded his chase of Jacob Gray. Who or what the man was who seemed equally determined with himself not to lose sight of Gray, he could not divine; but be he whom he might, or his object what it might, Albert resolved he should not stand in the way of his own great effort to discover his long lost Ada.