The snow by this time lay
ankle-deep, and even deeper in the pitfalls with which the ill-lit
streets abounded; but in twenty minutes I had reached the Via Balbi.
The wind was rising; in spite of the snow driven against my face I
had not noticed until I heard it humming in the alley which led under
the shadow of the garden wall. I had scarcely noticed it before my
ears caught the jingle of bells approaching swiftly down the Via
Balbi.
"Eh?" thought I, "is the Prince returning, then, to change his dress?
Or has he sent home his carriage, meaning to pursue the adventure on
foot?"
There was no time to run back to the street corner and satisfy my
curiosity. The horses went clashing past the head of the alley at a
gallop, and presently I heard the front gates of the palace grind
open on their great hinges. Half a minute later they were closed
again with a jar, and almost immediately the clocks of the city began
to toll out the hour.
Was it my fancy? Or did the last note die away with a long-drawn
choking sound, as of some one struggling for breath? . . .
And, last time, it had been the tap-tap of a hammer.
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