'All right.' Van Torp turned to Lady Maud. 'Do you feel faint? Lean on my arm.'
But she would not, and she walked bravely, holding herself so straight that she looked much taller than he, though she felt as if she were going to execution.
A moment later she uttered a loud cry and clung to [{423}] Van Torp's shoulder with both hands. But as for him, he said only two words.
'You hellhound!'
The man was not Boris Leven.
"The man was not Boris Leven."
The eyes, the upper part of the face, the hair, even the flowing moustaches were his, but not the small retreating chin crossed by the sharp, thin scar of a sword-cut long healed.
'I know who you are,' said Van Torp, surveying him gravely. 'You're Long-legged Levi's brother, that disappeared before he did. I remember that scar.'