It came to him, the last refrain, sung loudly to the laughter of the crowd, in imitation of his own voice as it used to be--it had been a different voice during this past year.

He turned with headlong intention, and, as the last notes of the song and the applause that followed it, died away, threw back his head and sang out of the darkness: "Champagne Charlie is my name--" With a shrill laugh, like the half-mad cry of an outcast soul, he flung away farther into the trees.
There was a sudden silence.

The crowd turned with half-apprehensive laughter to the trees.

Upon John Brown the effect was startling.

His face blanched, his eyes grew large with terror, his mouth opened in helpless agitation.