Finding himself once more in the open street, Jonathan Rugg stood for a while in the moonlight, endeavoring to compose his mind into somewhat of that sobriety that was habitual with him; for, indeed, he was not a little excited by the unexpected incidents that had just befallen him. From this effort at composure he was aroused by observing that a little gentleman clad all in black had stopped at a little distance away and was looking very intently at him. In the brightness of the moonlight our hero could see that the little gentleman possessed but a single eye, and that he carried a gold-headed cane in his hand. He had hardly time to observe these particulars, when the other approached him with every appearance of politeness and cordiality.  
"Sir," said he, "surely I am not mistaken in recognizing in you the supercargo of the ship SUSANNA HAYES, which arrived this afternoon at this port?"
 
"Indeed," said Jonathan, "thou art right, friend. That is my occupation, and that is whence I came."
 
"To be sure!" said the little gentleman. "To be sure! To be sure! The SUSANNA HAYES, with a cargo of Indian-corn meal, and from dear good friend Jeremiah Doolittle, of Philadelphia. I know your good master very well—very well indeed. And have you never heard him speak of his friend Mr. Abner Greenway, of Kingston, Jamaica?"
 
"Why, no," replied Jonathan, "I have no such recollection of the name nor do I know that any such name hath ever appeared upon our books."
 
"To be sure! To be sure!" repeated the little gentleman, briskly, and with exceeding good-nature. "Indeed, my name is not likely to have ever appeared upon his books, for I am not a business correspondent, but one who, in times past, was his extremely intimate friend. There is much I would like to ask about him, and, indeed, I was in hopes that you would have been the bearer of a letter from him. But I have lodgings at a little distance from here, so that if it is not requesting too much of you maybe you will accompany me thither, so that we may talk at our leisure. I would gladly accompany you to your ship instead of urging you to come to my apartments, but I must tell you I am possessed of a devil of a fever, so that my physician hath forbidden me to be out of nights."
 
"Indeed," said Jonathan, whom, you may have observed, was of a very easy disposition—"indeed, I shall be very glad to accompany thee to thy lodgings. There is nothing I would like better than to serve any friend of good Jeremiah Doolittle's."
 
And thereupon, and with great amity, the two walked off together, the little one-eyed gentleman in black linking his arm confidingly into that of Jonathan's, and tapping the pavement continually with his cane as he trotted on at a great pace. He was very well acquainted with the town (of which he was a citizen), and so interesting was his discourse that they had gone a considerable distance before Jonathan observed they were entering into a quarter darker and less frequented than that which they had quitted. Tall brick houses stood upon either side, between which stretched a narrow, crooked roadway, with a kennel running down the centre.
 
In front of one of these houses—a tall and gloomy structure—our hero's conductor stopped and, opening the door with a key, beckoned for him to enter. Jonathan having complied, his new-found friend led the way up a flight of steps, against which Jonathan's feet beat noisily in the darkness, and at length, having ascended two stairways and having reached a landing, he opened a door at the end of the passage and ushered Jonathan into an apartment, unlighted, except for the Moonshine, which, coming in through a partly open shutter, lay in a brilliant patch of light upon the floor.
 
His conductor having struck a light with a flint and steel, our hero by the illumination of a single candle presently discovered himself to be in a bedchamber furnished with no small degree of comfort, and even elegance, and having every appearance of a bachelor's chamber.
 
"You will pardon me," said his new acquaintance, "if I shut these shutters and the window, for that devilish fever of which I spoke is of such a sort that I must keep the night air even out from my room, or else I shall be shaking the bones out of my joints and chattering the teeth out of my head by to-morrow morning."
 
So saying he was as good as his word, and not only drew the shutters to, but shot the heavy iron bolt into its place. Having accomplished this he bade our hero to be seated, and placing before him some exceedingly superior rum, together with some equally excellent tobacco, they presently fell into the friendliest discourse imaginable. In the course of their talk, which after awhile became exceedingly confidential, Jonathan confided to his new friend the circumstances of the adventure into which he had been led by the beautiful stranger, and to all that he said concerning his adventure his interlocutor listened with the closest and most scrupulously riveted attention.
 
"Upon my word," said he, when Jonathan had concluded, "I hope that you may not have been made the victim of some foolish hoax. Let me see what it is she has confided to you."
 
"That I will," replied Jonathan. And thereupon he thrust his hand into his breeches-pocket and brought forth the ivory ball.
 
No sooner did the one eye of the little gentleman in black light upon the object than a most singular and extraordinary convulsion appeared to seize upon him. Had a bullet penetrated his heart he could not have started more violently, nor have sat more rigidly and breathlessly staring.
 
Mastering his emotion with the utmost difficulty as Jonathan replaced the ball in his pocket, he d............