Olivia by Charles Garvice

Two nights after this resolution of Mr. Bartley Bradstone's, Seth, the gypsy, might have been seen making his way along the crowded Strand. There is never too much room either in the road or on the pavement of that famous thoroughfare at any time; but just before eleven, and from that hour to midnight, it is, perhaps, the most densely thronged of any of the London streets, and Seth had to shoulder his way through the usual streams of humanity which emerge from the various theatres, on their way home or to the supper-rooms and restaurants.

It would have been rather difficult for the casual observer to have recognized Seth the prowler of country lanes, for, in place of his rough and well-worn cords and gaiters -- torn by many a midnight poaching expedition, and stained by mud and rain -- he wore a dark-colored suit, and a stylishly-cut covert coat, which gave him the appearance of a decent young farmer up in London for a meek-and-mild spree; but though he had changed his attire, he could not change his swarthy complexion and his small black eyes; and the wary, alert look which the gypsy acquires, say a month after he is weaned, was enough to distinguish him from the crowd of commonplace countenances by which he was surrounded.