He had not turned at the
rector's approach, and the latter had failed to recognise him.
And so with each new arrival. He neither turned nor moved at any
one's entrance, but left it to Mr. Black to do the honours and
make the best of a situation, difficult, if not inexplicable to
all of them. Nor could it be seen that any of these men--city
officials, prominent citizens and old friends, recognised his
figure or suspected his identity. Beyond a passing glance his way,
they betrayed neither curiosity nor interest, being probably
sufficiently occupied in accounting for their own presence in the
home of their once revered and now greatly maligned compeer. Judge
Ostrander, attacked through his son, was about to say or do
something which each and every one of them secretly thought had
better be left unsaid or undone. Yet none showed any disposition
to leave the place; and when, after a short, uneasy pause during
which all attempts at conversation failed, they heard a slow and
weighty step approaching through the hall, the suspense was such
that no one but Mr. Black noticed the quick whirl with which
Oliver turned himself about, nor the look of mortal anguish with
which he awaited the opening of the door and his father's entrance
among them. No one noticed, I say, until, simultaneously with the
appearance of Judge Ostrander on the threshold, a loud cry swept
through the room of "Don't! don't!" and the man they had barely
noticed, flashed by them all, and fell at the judge's feet with a
smothered repetition of his appeal: "Don't, father, don't!"
Then, each man knew why he had been summoned there, and knowing,
gazed earnestly at these two faces.
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