And, after all, a fine clear sky of bright colors is the signal to come out of hiding and rejoice and go on with life. "Now stand before me, Poll. He looked around, and as he heard that deafening shout,— as he felt the influence of those thousand eyes fixed upon him,—as he listened to the cheers, all his misgivings—if he had any—vanished, and he felt more as if he were marching to a triumph, than proceeding to a shameful death. I think we will soon, though. I told her it was the end. As he balanced the photograph, a humorous twinkle came into his eyes. He had nothing to guide him; for though the torches were blazing ruddily below, their gleam fell only on the side of the building.
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