"
"It is _you_ that are not yourself," he retorted. "What makes you look so
pale and worried--and why do you and the old man start if the door cracks,
as if the devil was after you? What is the meaning of that?" asked he with
a drunken leer. "You had better look out," concluded he; "I'm watching you
both, and will find out all your secrets by-and-by."
"Learn all our secrets! Ah, my brother!" thought she, as he disappeared
into his room, "you need not desire to have their fearful weight upon you,
or you will soon grow as anxious, thin, and pale as I am."
The next day at noon Lizzie started on her journey, after a short
conference with her father.
Night had settled upon her native city, when she was driven through its
straight and seemingly interminable thoroughfares. The long straight rows
of lamps, the snowy steps, the scrupulously clean streets, the signs over
the stores, were like the faces of old acquaintances, and at any other time
would have caused agreeable recollections; but the object of her visit
pre-occupied her mind, to the exclusion of any other and more pleasant
associations.
She ordered the coachman to take her to an obscure hotel, and, after having
engaged a room, she left her baggage and started in search of the residence
of McCloskey.
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