The suggestion was plainly sensible, and had, indeed, occurred to Pownal from the beginning, and he had accompanied Holden that morning more for the purpose of determining whether the house described by Esther, still existed, than with the expectation of making any further discovery.  His anticipations had been more than realized; a favorable beginning had been made; there was every inducement to prosecute the search.  When, therefore, Holden and Pownal thanked the obliging shopkeeper for his politeness, and took their leave, both felt that their morning had not been thrown away, though the condition of their minds was somewhat different, the former being confident of success, the latter hoping for it.

“I will call at the Register’s office,” said the young man, “and direct an examination to be made of the records.  We shall be able to obtain the result to-morrow, and until then you must endeavor to amuse yourself, my dear friend, as well as possible.  You know I sympathize with your impatience, and shall expedite our search with all diligence, and heaven grant it a happy termination.”

Pownal saw that 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