A dreadful despair rested on the face of Theophrastus; but he was the first to break the heavy silence.
"My pockets are quite empty," he said.
"Oh, Theophrastus—Theophrastus!" moaned Marceline reproachfully.
"My poor friend," said Adolphe; and he groaned.
Theophrastus wiped away the cold sweat from his brow with a handkerchief of which he did not know the owner.
"I see what it is," he said in a despairing tone. "I've had my Black Feather."
Marceline and Adolphe said nothing; they were utterly overwhelmed.
Theophrastus looked from one to the other and wiped the glasses of his spectacles. His face cleared a little; and then he said with a faint smile:
"Perhaps after all, in those days, it was a parlour game."
He stuck the index finger of his right hand into his mouth, with him a sign of grave preoccupation of spirit.