From the end of the forty foot room, his seated figure confronted
them, silent, staring and unmoving. With clenched fingers gripping
the arms of his great chair, and head held forward, he looked like
one frozen at the moment of doom, such the expression of features
usually so noble, and now almost unrecognisable were it not for
the snow of his locks and his unmistakable brow.

Frozen! Not an eyelash quivered, nor was there any perceptible
movement in his sturdy chest. His eyes were on their eyes, but he
saw no one; and down upon his head and over his whole form the
sunshine poured from a large window let into the ceiling directly
above him, lighting up the strained and unnatural aspect of his
remarkable countenance and bringing into sharp prominence the
commonplace objects cluttering the table at his elbow; such as his
hat and gloves, and the bundle of papers he had doubtless made
ready for court.

Was he living? Was he dead?--stricken by the sight of so many
faces in a doorway considered sacred from all intrusion? No! the
emotion capable of thus transforming the features of so strong a
man must have a deeper source than that. The woman was to blame
for this--the audacious, the unknown, the mysteriously clad woman.
Let her be found. Let her be made to explain herself and the
condition into which she had thrown this good man.

Indignation burst into words, and pity was beginning to voice
itself in inarticulate murmurs which swelled and ebbed, now
louder, now more faintly as the crowd surged forward or drew back,
appalled by that moveless, breathless, awe-compelling figure.