egotism assisted that unwonted amiability, for he felt that, Lucretia
gone, he had no hold on his father's house, that the home of her
successor never would be his. While thus brooding, he lifted his eyes,
and saw Dalibard pass in his carriage towards the Tuileries. The house,
then, was clear; he could see Lucretia alone. He formed his resolution
at once, and turned homewards. As he did so, he observed a man at the
angle of the street, whose eyes followed Dalibard's carriage with an
expression of unmistakable hate and revenge; but scarcely had he marked
the countenance, before the man, looking hurriedly round, darted away,
and was lost amongst the crowd.

Now, that countenance was not quite unfamiliar to Gabriel. He had seen
it before, as he saw it now,--hastily, and, as it were, by fearful
snatches. Once he had marked, on returning home at twilight, a figure
lurking by the house; and something, in the quickness with which it
turned from his gaze, joined to his knowledge of Dalibard's
apprehensions, made him mention the circumstance to his father when he
entered. Dalibard bade him hasten with a note, written hurriedly, to an
agent of the police, whom he kept lodged near at hand. The man was still
on the threshold when the boy went out on this errand, and he caught a
glimpse of his face; but before the police-agent reached the spot, the
ill-omened apparition had vanished. Gabriel now, as his eye rested full
upon that threatening brow and those burning eyes, was convinced that be
saw before him the terrible Pierre Guillot, whose very name blenched his
father's cheek. When the figure retreated, he resolved at once to
pursue. He hurried through the crowd amidst which the man had
disappeared, and looked eagerly into the faces of those he jostled;
sometimes at the distance he caught sight of a figure which appeared to
resemble the one which he pursued, but the likeness faded on approach.
The chase, however, vague and desultory as it was, led him on till his