Ten minutes later the man who had stood on deck as she came aboard, followed her, entered the stateroom, and locked the door after him.
The two were closeted there for nearly an hour, when the woman in black came out.
"I shall look for you at three precisely; do not fail me," said a low voice from behind the door.
"I will not fail you; but keep yourself close," was the equally guarded response, and then the heavily draped figure glided quickly down stairs and off the boat.
She crossed West street, passed on to Chambers, and turned to walk toward Broadway, passing, as she did so, a group of three or four men who were standing at the corner.
One of them gave a slight start as her garments brushed by him, took a step forward for a second look at her, then he quietly broke away from the others, and followed her, about a dozen yards behind, up Chambers street.
The woman did not appear to notice that she was being followed, for she did not accelerate her speed in the least, nor seem to pay any heed to what was going on about her. She kept straight on, as if her mind was intent only upon her own business.
But all at once, as she reached the corner of Broadway, she slipped into a carriage that stood waiting there, and was driven rapidly up town.
An angry exclamation burst from the man following her, who was none other than Rider, the detective, and he hastened forward to catch another glimpse of the carriage, if possible, before it should get out of sight.
He saw it in the distance, and hailing another, he gave chase as fast as the crowded condition of the street would permit.