Trimble saw the proprietor welcome his visitor with a nod which bespoke an acquaintance of some standing.

He saw Jeffreys turning over the contents of some of the trays, taking up a book now and then and examining it, and sometimes propping himself up against the doorpost and reading page after page.
It was not very entertaining work for the spy; but curiosity is patient, and Jonah as he watched the unconscious reader at a safe distance fortified himself by the conviction that he was watching the working-out of some deep-laid plot.
Presently he saw Jeffreys disappear into the shop, and what was his amazement, when presently he "casually" passed the door, to see him seated with the bookseller at a table earnestly poring over and discussing a small faded sheet of paper which lay between them! Trimble would have given worlds to know what the mysterious document was, and what villainy was brewing.

Had he known it, he might not have stood out there in the evening air quite as patiently as he did.

For the mysterious document happened to be nothing but an old tattered and torn Commonwealth tract which Jeffreys had discovered folded up between the leaves of an ancient volume of poetry, and which he and his friend the bookseller were spending a very agreeable half-hour in piecing together and deciphering.
About seven o'clock Jeffreys rose to go, pocketing the precious relic, which his friend had given him; and Trimble, having carefully noted down the name of the shop and the personal appearance of the suspicious bookseller, followed gingerly back across the bridge.

The streets were getting less crowded, and Jonah had increasing difficulty in keeping himself concealed as he crawled along on the opposite side of the way some thirty or forty yards in the rear of his man.
Just as Jeffreys was crossing the space opposite the grand front of the minster a dog sprang forward to meet him with every token of joy.