rspective of the avenues, the raking view from river to river in the
cross streets, afforded him no shelter from watching eyes--in every
passing glance he read his doom; these, too, were things to be avoided
at all hazard.

For four nights, since he sought refuge in New York, he had crawled into
an empty packing-box in a black alley behind a Water Street wholesale
house. Twice, during this time, he had made the attempt to board as
stowaway an outward-bound steamship and sailing vessel for a South
American port; but he had failed, for the Eyes were upon him--always the
Eyes wherever he went, whenever he looked, Eyes that were spotting him.
In the weakness consequent upon prolonged fasting and the protracted
exposure during his journey from Maine, this horror was becoming an
obsession bordering on delirium. It was even now beginning to dull the
two senses of sight and hearing--at least, he imagined it--as he stood
in line waiting for the loaf that should keep him another day, keep him
for one of two alternatives: flight, if possible to South America,
or ...

As he stood there, the fear that his sight might grow suddenly dim, that
he might in consequence fail in recognition of those Eyes so constantly
on the lookout for him, suddenly increased. He grew afraid, at last, to
look up--What if the Eyes should be there! He bore the ever-increasing
horror as long as he could, then--better starve and have done with it
than die like a dog from sheer fright!--he stepped cautiously, softly,
starting at the crackle of the ice under his tread, off the curbstone
into the street. So far he was safe. He kept his head low, and walked
carelessly towards Third Avenue. When nearing the corner he determined
he would look up. He took the middle of the street. It cost him a
supreme effort to raise his eyes, to look stealthily about him, behind,
before, to right, to left--

_What was that in the dark area archway!_ His sight blurred for the
moment, so increasing the blackness of impending horror; then, under the
influence of this last applied stimulus, his sight grew preternaturally
keen. He discerned one moving form--two--three; to his over-strained
nerves there seemed a whole posse behind them. Oh, the Eyes, the Eyes
that were so constantly on him! Could he never rid himself of them! He
bent his head to the sleeting blast and darted down the middle of the
street to Second Avenue.

_He knew now the alternative._

After a possible five seco