This was scanty information upon which to continue his search.  His first step was to go to the calaboose, where he managed to obtain an interview with Hatchie.  The poor fellow was in an agony of grief,—­not on his own account, but on that of his mistress, for he well understood the reason of this imprisonment.

Hatchie, of course, could give him no information of the whereabouts of Emily, nor offer any suggestion; and Vernon was compelled to leave the disheartened mulatto, with only a promise of speedily effecting his deliverance.

Vernon’s next step was to ascertain the present abiding place of Maxwell, if, indeed, he was in the city; and for this purpose he had gone to his office.  The open room did not verify the statements of the negress.  He knew that Maxwell always closed up his rooms when he left the city, and the fact of their being open now tended to fix suspicion upon him, or rather to confirm the suspicions before entertained.  He had made the visit to the attorney’s rooms to gain information; and, being partly convinced, by the manner of the negress, that the rear chamber was occupied, he retired to the coffee-room to digest the knowledge, and, if possible, arrive at some conclusion through it, as well as at the same time to keep watch of the movements at the office.

Who was this De Guy, who had been the agent of Maxwell?—­for such he determined to believe him, until convinced to the contrary.  He canvassed their mutual acquaintances, but could remember no such person.  Intimate as he had been with all the associates of Maxwell, he could not identify this bold and cunning confederate.

He had not long deliberated, when, to his surprise,—­albeit it was not an event at all remarkable,—­Maxwell entered the coffee-room.

Before Vernon had time to decide whether or not he should charge the lawyer with the abduction of Emily, that worthy approached his chair, and, with much cordiality,—­more than he had formerly bestowed upon him,—­extended his hand, and expressed his happiness at again meeting him in the city.

Undecided as yet how to proceed, Vernon returned his salutations with an appearance of equal cordiality.

“My dear fellow,” said Maxwell, “I am rejoiced to see you in town again.  I was afraid you would quite desert us.”

This language was new and strange to Vernon.  It sounded like the days in which he had been respectable—­before his vices had found him out.

“Indeed! why did you think so?” replied Vernon.

“Why, Vernon, there was some kind of a ridiculous story current at Vicksburg, to the effect that you had joined the church, or something of that sort.”

“Ha, ha! funny!” said Vernon, adopting the free and easy style, which had formerly distinguished his colloquial efforts.  “Where did you pick up the story?”

“O, it was quite current when I left Vicksburg.”

“A good joke, hey?” said Vernon, musing.