gave, and the recollections he excited,
that I had slept for one night in the borough of Southwark. But he could get no
farther information. The people of the inn had no knowledge what had become of
me the next morning. This however did but render him more eager in the pursuit.
The describing me was now more difficult, on account of the partial change of my
dress I had made the second day of my being in town. But Gines at length
overcame the obstacle from that quarter. Having traced me to my second inn, he
was here furnished with a more copious information. I had been a subject of
speculation for the leisure hours of some of the persons belonging to this inn.
An old woman of a most curious and loquacious disposition who lived opposite to
it, and who that morning rose early to her washing, had espied me from her
window by the light of a large lamp which hung over the inn, as I issued from
the gate. She had but a very imperfect view of me, but she thought there was
something Jewish in my appearance. She was accustomed to hold a conference every
morning with the landlady of the inn, some of the waiters and chambermaids
occasionally assisting at it. In the course of the dialogue of this morning she
asked some questions about the Jew who had slept there the night before. No Jew
had slept there. The curiosity of the landlady was excited in her turn. By the
time of the morning it could be no one but me. It was very strange! They
compared notes respecting my appearance and dress. No two things could be more
dissimilar. The Jew-Christian, upon any dearth of subjects of intelligence,
repeatedly furnished matter for their discourse.
    The information thus afforded to Gines, appeared exceedingly material. But
the performance did not for some time keep pace with the promise. He could not
enter every private house into which lodgers were ever admitted, in the same
manner that he had treated the inns. He walked the streets, and examined with a
curious and inquisitive eye the countenance of every Jew about my stature; but
in vain. He repaired to Duke's Place and the synagogues. It was not here that in
reality he could calculate upon finding me; but he resorted to these means in
despair and as a last hope. He was more than once upon the point of giving up
the pursuit; but he was recalled to it by an insatiable and restless appetite
for revenge.
    It was during this perturbed and fluctuating state of his mind that he
chanced to pay a visit to a brother of