As soon as they left the room, Norine began to prepare herself hastily for going out. Her breakfast was sent up to her room; but she only swallowed a cup of coffee, and then leaving word for her brother that he was to await her return, she glided softly through the hall, and left the house by the ladies’ entrance. “I shall find him,” she thought. “I will find him myself, and then I shall know.” CHAPTER XXIX. CLOSING IN. Frightened, dismayed, utterly broken down, Elwell fled from the hotel by the back way, and skulked like a hunted beast to his office. With the collar of his coat pulled up as far as it would go, and his hat pulled closely down to cover his pale, frightened face, he sneaked along in the shadows of the buildings until he reached the little office of the mill. It was closing in on him, and he knew it; knew, and fully understood, the hopelessness of his situation, although as yet he was incapable of consecutive thought. He had just reached the moment of his greatest triumph, and now--was it possible that he could be undone so quickly? He could dimly remember, as if it had been ages ago, instead of but a few moments, his pride and exultation in his position, as that roar of applause had been lifted up from the sea of upturned faces before him. How his heart had swelled with the rapture of gratified ambition! He had been successful in everything; so successful that he had but to lend his name to an enterprise, and it guaranteed success. And now? He had been overthrown by the white face of a woman. Yesterday, nay, that very day, he had been alluded to as the most successful man in the community. And now, what was he? He reached the little office, and stumbled in, leaving the door wide open. Sinking into his chair, he hid his face in his hands. He did not think. He was still too numb from that crushing blow for that; but he sat motionless in his chair, staring intently before him at the black darkness that filled all space. Presently the watchman employed to care for the premises came along, and finding the door of the office open, entered it, flashing the light of his dark lantern cautiously ahead of him. “Beg pardon,” he said respectfully. “But you left the door open, and I did not know who might be here.” His master turned wearily in his chair, and stared at him. The man was quiet and respectful. He had not heard yet, thought the other; and he wondered dimly if the man’s manner would change any if he knew. There was nothing in his master’s appearance, as seen by the fitful rays of the lantern, to excite any wonder in the watchman’s mind. He looked tired, that was all; and it was not at all unusual for him to come down to the office nights. Elwell had frequently done so. “I will light the lamp if you wish it, sir,” he said; and when Elwell nodded to him, he took down and lighted a large office lamp, that threw a soft light over the apartment. Still his master had not moved.