"Considers himself a planet illuminating the social hemisphere of the Chapman family." "You must pardon me, gentlemen," said Romer, "for introducing a conversation so strange to you.

It refers to a matter which concerns the gentleman and myself, which he perfectly understands, and you may hear more of soon--not now." Another, and very different scene from that described above, but which forms an essential part of this history, was being enacted just outside.
While the sound of the music was reverberating over Bowling Green, and mingling curiously with the sea-wail; while the dance went on, and all seemed gay and festive within, two old men, bent with age and poorly clad, were seen in front of Chapman's house, one of them leaning on a staff.

They were the two shadowy figures seen on the Battery in the early part of the evening, looking anxiously out in the direction of a ship at anchor in the stream.
Their manner indicated that they were strangers in the city, uncertain of the location they were in.

They would move slowly up and down in front of the house, then pause and listen to the music, the tripping of feet, and the sound of merry voices.

The shadowy figures seen flitting through the curtains seemed to bewilder them.