Still moving mechanically, with his eyes starting from his head, Vorski unfastened the button of his shirt and pulled out the chain. The locket appeared. There was the portrait of a woman in a round gold frame.
"It's she, it's she," he muttered, completely taken aback.
"Quite sure?"
"Yes."
"Then what do you say to it all, eh? There's no fake about it, no deception. The ancient Druid's a smart chap and you're coming with him, aren't you?"
"Yes."
Vorski was beaten. The man had subjugated him. His superstitious instincts, his inherited belief in the mysterious powers, his restless and unbalanced nature, all imposed absolute submission on him. His suspicion persisted, but did not prevent him from obeying.
"Is it far?" he asked.
"Next door, in the great hall."
Otto and Conrad had been the astounded witnesses of this dialogue. Conrad tried to protest. But Vorski silenced him: