Rowland caught one glimpse of her face in this moment of her disgrace. Her glance met his and fell, she seemed in a moment to have grown years older.
"Your vote----?" Von Stromberg laughed. "How--Madame?"
No one heard her reply but General von Stromberg announced quite coolly,
"For, Herr Hochwald."
And Zoya Rochal sought her seat, her head bowed, broken and defeated.
Baron von Stromberg was greatly enjoying himself. He leaned against the edge of the table and as each man came up, transfixed him with a look, hypnotic and deeply suggestive of the power of his malice.
But in another moment a change was to come--one of those astonishing shifts of the psychology of a crowd. For one man voted "No" defiantly, the big man in the blouse who had been so violent earlier in the evening.
"Stand aside, Herr Borsch," snapped Von Stromberg.
"With me," cried Rowland, joyously. He might have been shouting "Montjoie!" with his famous namesake in defiance of the Saracens.
"And me," cried another nearby, rising from his seat.