us of a line of horse-cars
that connected this remote region of Sibley with its business portion,
and though distant a good mile from the railway depot, was, to all
intents and purposes, as near that means of escape as he would have been
in the street in front of Widow Clemmens' house.

Full of thoughts and inly wondering over the fatality that had confined
the attention of the authorities to the approaches afforded by the lane,
to the utter exclusion of this more circuitous, but certainly more
elusive, road of escape, he entered upon the highway, and proceeded to
gain the horse-car he saw standing at the head of the road, a few rods
away. As he did so, he for the first time realized just where he was.
The elegant villa of Professor Darling rising before him on the ridge
that ran along on the right-hand side of the road, made it at once
evident that he was on the borders of that choice and aristocratic
quarter known as the West Side. It was a new region to him, and,
pausing for a moment, he cast his eyes over the scene which lay
stretched out before him. He had frequently heard it said that the view
commanded by the houses on the ridge was the finest in the town, and he
was not disappointed in it. As he looked across the verdant basin of
marshy ground around which the road curved like a horseshoe, he could
see the city spread out like a map before him. So unobstructed, indeed,
was the view he had of its various streets and buildings, that he
thought he could even detect, amid the taller and more conspicuous
dwellings, the humble walls and newly-shingled roof of the widow's
cottage.

But he could not be sure of this; his eyesight was any thing but
trustworthy for long distances, and hurrying forward to the car, he took
his seat just as it was about to start.

It carried him straight into town, and came to a standstill not ten feet
from the railroad depot. As he left it and betook himself back to his
hotel, he gave to his thoughts a distinct though inward expression.

"If," he mused, "my suppositions in regard to this matter are true, and
another man than Mr. Hildreth struck the fatal blow, then I have just
travelled over the self-same route he took in his flight."

But were his suppositions true? It remained for him to determine.

XIII.

THE FLY.

Like--but oh! how different.--WORDSWORTH.

THE paper mill of Harrison, Goodman & Chamberlain was situated in one of
the main thoroughfares of Buffa