He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. Then, seeing Melusine’s feathered beaver had fallen to the floor, picked that up for her. She had found that proof. Not daring, however, to listen to it, he ran on. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. Huge trees obscured the view of it. Melusine did not try to fight her captor, for that would only make him angry.
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