"They are here!" he cried, in affected alarm. "Quick, Frampa, bring her away. She is not safe there. Bring her along and hide her."
"Come, child," said Frampa, in great agitation, as the door closed again. "Quick! jump up; we will foil them yet."
Penelophon rose mechanically in her alarm, and Frampa half led, half dragged her to the door; but just as she reached it she caught sight of a face she hardly knew in Frampa's mirror, which hung there upon the wall. For a moment she stopped and took another look. Then with a low cry of horror she dragged her hand from Frampa's and started back, staring at her conductor with a look in which terror struggled with reproach.
"O Frampa!" she cried, in a hushed voice of anguish, "what have you done? You have painted my face. Oh, how wicked! how very wicked of you!"
"Nonsense, child!" cried Frampa, getting a little vexed. "It is only to disguise you better. Come along quick, or it will be too late."
She took her by the wrist again, but Penelophon hung back from her in disgust. Just then the door opened and Bocco rushed in again.
"Quick, my girl," he said, as, heedless of her fear, he took her other wrist and looked her hard in the face. "Do what I bid you, and all will be well. But, mind, do as I say."
Then she gave herself up to her fate. There was something she could not resist in this man, and she let them lead her right through the barn. Outside she saw the tawdry car standing ready, with all the men and girls upon it, except Nora, whose place at the top was vacant. They all laughed and whispered together when Penelophon appeared, but she had no time to heed them.
"Come, child," said Bocco sharply, "climb with me; it is your only chance."