A tremendous burst of cheering rose to the platform on which he stood. The crowd thronged about him, the men shook him by the hand, the ladies kissed him. They pressed him to make a speech which all could hear and understand. And Simon, leaning over these people, whose enthusiasm blended with his own exaltation, stammered a few words in praise of the two nations.
The frenzy was so violent and unbridled that Simon was jostled, carried off his feet, swept into the crowd and lost among the very people who were looking for him. His only thought was to go into the first hotel that offered and throw himself down on a bed. A hand seized his; and a voice said:
"Come with me; I will show you the way."
He recognized the young woman whom he had released from her bonds. Her face likewise was transfigured with emotion.
"You have done a splendid thing," she said. "I don't believe any other man could have done it. . . . You are above all other men. . . ."
An eddy in the crowd tore them apart, although the stranger's hand clutched his. He fell to the floor among the overturned chairs, picked himself up again and was feeling at the end of his tether as he neared one of the exits, when suddenly he stood to attention. Strength returned to his limbs. Lord Bakefield and Isabel were standing before him.
Eagerly Isabel held out her hand:
"We were there, Simon. We saw you. I'm proud of you, Simon."
He was astonished and confused.
"Isabel! Is it really you?"