"Her professional name is Madame le Claire; in private life, she is Miss Blatherwick."
"I didn't see the rest of the troupe," said Miss Waldron icily; "or perhaps she's an elocutionist."
"No," said Amidon, "she's an occultist—a sort of—well, a hypnotist."
There was a long pause here, during which they drew near to the big brick building on the side of which Amidon saw the sign of the Bellevale House.
"Also an old friend?" inquired Miss Waldron.
"Oh, no!" said Florian; "I met her only a week or two ago."
"She must be very charming," said Elizabeth, "to have inspired so much friendship in so short a time. Here we are at the hotel. Do you really think you'll call this evening? Au revoir, then."
Even the unsophisticated Amidon could perceive, now, that the drawbridge was up, the portcullis down, and all the bars and shutters of the castle in place. Moreover, in the outer darkness in which he moved, he imagined there roamed lions and wolves and ravening beasts—and he with no guide but Judge Blodgett, who stands there in the lobby, so wildly beckoning to him.