We had just entered the Konigstrasse (and it must be remembered that I had at that time no reason for attaching any special significance to this locality), and were waiting impatiently for a heavy dray to move out of our path, when my coachman, who had overheard the butler's conversation with me, leant down from his box with an air of lively excitement.
"My lord," he cried, "there's Bauer--there, passing the butcher's shop!" I sprang up in the carriage; the man's back was towards me, and he was threading his way through the people with a quick, stealthy tread.

I believe he must have seen me, and was slinking away as fast as he could.
I was not sure of him, but the coachman banished my doubt by saying, "It's Bauer--it's certainly Bauer, my lord." I hardly stayed to form a resolution.

If I could catch this fellow or even see where he went, a most important clue as to Rupert's doings and whereabouts might be put into my hand.

I leapt out of the carriage, bidding the man wait, and at once started in pursuit of my former servant.

I heard the coachman laugh: he thought, no doubt, that anxiety for the missing bag inspired such eager haste.
The numbers of the houses in the Konigstrasse begin, as anybody familiar with Strelsau will remember, at the end adjoining the station.