"You couldn't be expected to know," he said. "But in a thing like this you mustn't think he's all right because he looks all right. He'll look his best just at the time when there's most--well, when he isn't. I hope he's going to keep quiet after this?" "Yes, yes. At least we've arranged that. Weston, do go and bring him to me." "Look, he's coming now with the Dean." Quisante's group opened, and he began to move towards them. But at every step somebody stopped him, to shake hands and to say a few words of thanks or praise. The Dean kept urging him on gently, but he would not be hurried. "Now take him straight home," said Tillman. "Good-night." And hardly waiting for May's bow he turned away and disappeared among the throng that was making for the door. Quisante, at last escaping from his admirers, came up to his wife. His eyes were very bright, and he ran to her, holding out both his hands. She put hers in his and said, "We must go home. You'll be worn out." "Worn out? Not I! But you look worn out. Come along. Ah, Marchmont, this is a compliment indeed." They were almost alone in the room now. May took her husband's arm and they walked thus together. "Are you pleased?" he whispered. "Am I pleased!" she said with the laugh he knew and an upward glance of her eyes. Quisante himself laughed and drew himself to his full height, carrying his head defiantly. For though he sought and loved to please all, it was pleasing her that had been foremost in his mind that night. He had remembered the boast he made on Duty Hill; now it was justified, and he had once again tasted his sweetest pleasure. They had to wait in an ante-room while their carriage was sent for. Here the Dean and Marchmont joined them again. They were there when old Foster rushed in in great excitement. "The whole town's in the square," he cried. "There's never been anything like it in Henstead. You'll say just a word to them from the steps, sir? Only a word! They're all waiting there for you. You'll say just a word? I'll be back in an instant." And he bustled out again. Quisante walked across to a window that opened on to the Market Square. He looked out, then turned and beckoned to his wife. The whole town seemed to be in the square, as Foster said, and the people caught sight of him as he stood in the window with the lighted room behind him. They broke into loud cheering. Quisante bowed to them. Then a sudden short shiver seemed to run through him; he put his hand first to his side, then to his head.