On the next morning Colonel Willoughby plied the landlord with a few more questions about Captain Allen, and then, inquiring the direction of his house, started out, as he said, to take a ramble through the town.  He did not come back until near dinner time, and then he showed no disposition to encourage familiarity on the part of Mr. Adams.  But that individual was not in the dark touching the morning whereabouts of his friend.  A familiar of his, stimulated by certain good things which the landlord knew when and how to dispense, had tracked the stranger from the “White Swan” to Captain Allen’s house.  After walking around it, on the outside of the enclosure once or twice, and viewing it on all sides, he had ventured, at last, through the gate, and up to the front door of the stately mansion.  A servant admitted him, and the landlord’s familiar loitered around for nearly three hours before he came out.  Mrs. Allen accompanied him to the door, and stood and talked with him earnestly for some time in the portico.  They shook hands in parting, and Colonel Willoughby retired with a firm, slow step, and his eyes bent downwards as if his thoughts were sober, if not oppressive.

All this Mr. Adams knew; and of course, his curiosity was pitched to a high key.  But, it was all in vain that he threw himself in the way of his guest, made leading remarks, and even asked if he had seen the splendid dwelling of Captain Allen.  The handsome stranger held him firmly at a distance.  And not only on that day and evening, but on the next day and the next.  He was polite even to blandness, but suffered no approach beyond the simplest formal intercourse.  Every morning he was seen going to Captain Allen’s house, where he always stayed several hours.  The afternoons he spent, for the most part, in his own room.

All this soon became noised throughout the town of S——­, and there was a little world of excitement, and all manner of conjectures, as to who this Colonel Willoughby might be.  The old nurse, of whom mention has been made, presuming upon her professional acquaintance with Mrs. Allen, took the liberty of calling in one afternoon, when, to her certain knowledge, the stranger was in the house.  She was, however, disappointed in seeing him.  The servant who admitted her showed her into a small reception-room, on the opposite side of the hall from the main parlor, and here Mrs. Allen met her.  She was “very sweet to her”—­to use her own words—­sweet, and kind, and gentle as ever.  But she looked paler than usual, and did not seem to be at ease.

The nurse reported that something was going wrong; but, as to its exact nature, she was in the dark.  It certainly didn’t look right for Mrs. Allen to be receiving daily the visits of an elegant looking stranger, and her husband away.  There was only one opinion on this head.

And so it went on from day to day for nearly a week—­Colonel Willoughby, as he had called himself, spending the greater part of every morning with Mrs. Allen, and hiding himself from curious eyes, during the afternoons, in his room at the “White Swan.”  Then came the denouement to this exciting little drama.