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. . . . Surely, strange noises haunted this alley. . . . I listened. I knew that I must be standing near the small door in the wall, though in the darkness I could not see it. The sinister sound was not repeated. I could be sworn, though, that my eyes had heard it; and still, for two minutes perhaps, I stood listening, my face lifted towards the wall's coping. Then indeed I heard something--not at all that for which I strained my ears, but a soft muffled footfall on the snow behind me--and faced about on it, clutching at the sailor's knife I wore in my belt. It was a woman. She had almost blundered into me as I stood in the shadow of the wall, and now, within reach of my arm, drew back with a gasp of terror. Terror indeed held her numb while I craned forward, peering into her face. "Signorina Bianca!" "But what--what brings you?" she stammered, still between quick gasps for breath. In the darkness, close by, a door slammed. "Ah!" said I, drawing in my breath. Stretching out a hand, I laid it on her shoulder, from which the cloak fell away, disclosing a frosty glint of tinsel. "So it was for _you_ the Prince drove home early from the theatre! But why is the door left open?" Pretty Bianca began to whimper. "I--I do not know; unless some one has stolen my key." She put a hand down to fumble in the pocket of her cloak. "Then we had best discover," said I, and drew her (though not ungently) to the door. I found it after a little groping and, lifting the latch--for the gust of wind had fastened it--thrust it open upon a light which, though by no means brilliant, dazzled me after the darkness of the alley. I had counted on the door's opening straight into the garden. To my dismay I found myself in a narrow vestibule floored with lozenges of black and white marble and running, under the wall to my left, towards an archway where a dim lamp burned before a velvet curtain. For a moment I halted irresolute, and then, slipping a hand under Bianca's arm, led her forward to the archway and drew aside the curtain.