One day Claude proposed that Oswald, as his guest, accompany him on a sight-seeing tour of the Western States. This was just what would have most pleased Oswald but for that expected letter from Sir Donald Randolph.
He every day looked for a reply. Oswald could not think of then leaving on a prolonged trip.
Expressing gratitude for the invitation, he declined, assigning his daily expectation of important news from England.
Claude excused Oswald, adding, in pleasant banter:
"I hope congratulations soon will be in order, but bring her to New York!"
To this Oswald responded with a sadly suggestive smile.
Next day, at the Grand Central Station, these friends parted.
Oswald greatly missed Claude Leslie's congenial society and contagious enthusiasm. That expressive face became familiar to general-delivery mail-clerks, who could tell the non-arrival of expected letter, yet carefully looked, for his better assurance.
In this extremity Oswald seeks the society of an Italian guide, who as protégé of Claude Leslie often piloted these friends through parts of "darker" New York.
From the first Oswald felt an interest in Marco Salvini. This grew with each meeting. Though much pleased, the guide often responded with looks of blank wonder. Claude Leslie had noted this capricious favor, but regarded it as an out-growth from Oswald's peculiar temperament, influenced by self-inflicted social reserve. But these marked attentions soon suggested to Claude a cause more significant. The guide's likeness to that bandit who died in Himalaya camp was most striking. It seemed that this sentimental Englishman yet felt compunction for that fatal shot.
After Claude's departure, Oswald's fancy again reverts to this Italian. Going to neighborhood of "Five-Points," he calls at proper number, but gets no information, except that Marco Salvini has been away two days. In front of "Five-Points House of Industry" he pauses to reflect.
A new sensation of dizziness is felt. Oswald braces against the brick wall, facing "Five-Points Mission." The bewildering faintness is brief, yet he still stands in reverie. In recent years much had been done for this formerly depraved neighborhood. His thoughts cross the sea to an embowered spot, near a beautiful lake, where one timidly and in faltering accents had announced her solemn consecration to like humble yet exalted ministry. In striking contrast appears a chafing, petulant suitor, privately protesting against such infatuation and indignantly railing at spiritual advisers. The sacrifice now seems more rational, and the advice kindly considerate. Was that modestly brilliant, sweetly fascinating girl engaged in her chosen mission?