The roar of the cannon deadened the bells. It is the people's habit to count the salvoes. Three were the signal for the lighting up of the Bengal lights. But the cannon thundered on. When the reports had reached twenty-one, people whispered under their breath, "What! can it be the birth of a princess in the Winter Palace?" No. Still the cannons thundered on. At the fiftieth report the rumor arose that a successful naval engagement was being celebrated. But still the cannons continued their volley, amid the crash of church bells. When the iron tongue had roared for the hundred and first time, people began to ask themselves, "Can this be the Czar's birthday?" No; not even that. The iron monsters thundered on--102, 103, 104. At the hundred and fifth time none asked any more what it meant; for the whole city with one voice sent up a despairing cry, deadening even the crash of the three hundred bells. "It is coming! It is coming!" But it was not the approach of Napoleon's army which aroused the voice of panic, but that of a far mightier lord--the Neva! which, rushing back upon the city, brings the sea with it, and with foaming, roaring, resistless waves breaks up the ice of the river, flinging it abroad on all sides. That was the meaning of the incessant firing of cannon from the citadel. * * * * * When Czar Peter I. first began to put into form his idea of building a capital in the midst of the Finnish morass, and, to that end, had the vast forest there standing exterminated, he came upon an old fir-tree, on whose bark were cut deep lines. "What is the meaning of these lines?" he asked an old countryman. "_These lines denote the height of the Neva when it leaves its banks and floods the whole surrounding land._" The Czar gave orders for tree and peasant to be cut down; but both had spoken truly. The Neva remained the sworn enemy of the mighty city of the Czar. * * * * * Yes. It is coming, rushing on with backward movement; it has left the river-bed and increases mightily; it is no longer the Neva, but the sea--the salt sea in all its awful immensity! And once it has gone down, the walls of palaces and houses, as far as the water has reached, will be covered with salt. The sledgers on the ice were the first to become aware of the extent of the danger. Those of them who took refuge on the right bank of the river might esteem themselves lucky, for there the streets were clear; but those seeking the left side spread mad panic among the unconscious throng of pleasure-seekers with their cry, "The Neva is coming!" The very words sufficed to strike dismay into the hearts of the bravest and to paralyze the cowardly with terror; for in such danger there is no way of escape. When the Neva rises it overflows the whole city, and he who would flee the danger meets it at the next turning.