at the search was made at the office of the Register, and
the title traced through several persons to the period when the house
was occupied by the man named by Esther. Upon further inquiry it was
ascertained that the proprietor at that time was still alive, and one
of the principal citizens of the place. Holden lost no time in calling
upon him, but was doomed to disappointment. He was received, indeed,
with great urbanity by the gentleman, one of the old school, who
proffered every aid in his power, and made an examination of his
papers to discover the name of his tenant. He was successful in the
search, and found that the name was the same given by Esther, but what
had become of the man he was unable to say.

Holden now determined to make the inquiry of every one of the same
name as that of the person sought. The search he pursued with all the
ardor of a vehement nature, stimulated by the importance of an object
that lay so near his heart. There was no street, or alley, or lane,
where there was the slightest chance of success, unvisited by his
unwearied feet. And varied was the treatment he received in that
persevering search: by some met with contempt and insult as a crazy
old fool, whose fittest place was the lunatic asylum, and who ought
not to be allowed to prowl about the streets, entering people's houses
at unseasonable hours and plaguing them with foolish questions: by
others with a careless indifference, and an obvious desire to be rid
of him as soon as possible, but to the honor of human nature, be it
said, by most with sympathy and kindness. It was, moreover, usually
among the poorer, that when it was necessary to mention the reason
of his inquiry, he was treated with the most gentleness and
consideration. Whether it is that suffering had taught them feeling
for others' woes, while prosperity and worldly greed had hardened the
hearts of the richer, let the reader determine. And, again, it was
upon the women his tale made the tenderest impression. Whatever maybe
the condition of woman, however sad her experience in life, however
deplorable her lot, however low she may be sunk in degradation, it is
hard to find one of her sex in whom sensibility is extinguished. With
her, kindness is an instinct. The heart throbs of necessity to a story
of sorrow, and the eye overflows with pity.

But the diligence of Holden was in vain, and, at last, he was obliged
to confess that he knew not what further to do, unless he to