No one had seen his approach; no one accosted him as he mounted the low steps; there was no one in the room into which he gazed a moment later.

It was the great hall into which he had spied a few hours previous.

There was the long table with the big book on it, the lamp whose light had bathed the girl's head in a halo of glory, the very chair in which he had found her sitting! He was conscious of a throbbing in his breast, a longing to call out--if he only knew her name.
In the room there were four closed doors and it was from beyond these that there came to him the wailing of children.

A fifth door was open and through it he saw a cradle gently rocking.

Here at last was visible life, or motion at least, and he knocked loudly.