fled, while I followed him in the wildest amazement, resolute not to abandon a scrutiny in which I now
felt an interest all-absorbing. The sun arose while we proceeded, and, when we had once again reached
that most thronged mart of the populous town, the street of the D Hôtel, it presented an appearance
of human bustle and activity scarcely inferior to what I had seen on the evening before. And here, long,
amid the momently increasing confusion, did I persist in my pursuit of the stranger. But, as usual, he
walked to and fro, and during the day did not pass from out the turmoil of that street. And, as the shades
of the second evening came on, I grew wearied unto death, and, stopping fully in front of the wanderer,
gazed at him steadfastly in the face. He noticed me not, but resumed his solemn walk, while I, ceasing
to follow, remained absorbed in contemplation. This old man, I said at length, is the type and the genius
of deep crime. He refuses to be alone. He is the man of the crowd. It will be in vain to follow; for I
shall learn no more of him, nor of his deeds. The worst heart of the world is a grosser book than the
Hortulus Animæ;1 and perhaps it is but one of the great mercies of God that er lasst sich nicht lesen.