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A Siren

Chapter 9 No.9

Word Count: 2543    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

d News came

and of the Ash Wednesday that followed it;-an Ash W

i he had never seen; and Bianca Lalli he had seen only once or twice on the stage; the lawyer not being much of a frequenter of the theatre. There could be little doubt that the body lying ther

an,-for such it was pretty clear she must be considered to be. And of course all interests in the little provincial city wer

ies of the questions involved in it, and of reaching a solution of the mysterious circumstances which the authorities, who were called upon to

avelled English people, who have heard much of "the sweet south," of the sunny skies of Italy, and of its balmy atmosphere, do not readily imagine that such cold is ever to be fo

the district which lies to the north-eastward, on the low coast of the upper part of the stormy Adriatic, is much colder. There is nothing, neither hill nor forest, between the Friulian Alp

fiercely through the deserted streets of the

s a strange sort of monkish appearance. And they from time to time blew upon their fingers, in the intervals of using their mouths for the purpose of grumbling at the cold. But they none of them resorted to tramping up and down, or stamping with their feet, or threshing themselves with their arms, or ha

in the bitter cold for their own amusement. The fact was, they were waiting for one of the great events of the day at Ravenna,-the arrival o

at that hour. It had never done so within the memory of man, even in the fine days of summer, and now, when the roads were rough with ridges of frozen mud! It was now, however, nearly half-past six-yes, there went the h

remark to each other, that unless "something" ha

ttendance of expectant loungers was wont to be far larger than it was on that bitter November night, and to include a large number of amateurs; whereas the half-dozen now waiting were all either officially or otherwise directly interested in the arrival. Indeed, there was a very special

gate-way. Per Bacco, it is time! I'm well

a decidedly more ragged and poverty-stricken individual

o was a frondeur and disaffected to the government, in consequence of a drunken grandson having been turned out of the place of third assistant scullion

standers, a young man, who, though wrapped to the eyes in the universal all-levellin

t of the Piazza Maggiore into the Via del Monte, and struggled forwards towards the knot at the inn door; it came at a miserable little trot, but with an accompaniment of tremendous whip-cracking, that awoke echoes in the silent streets far and near, and imparted an impression of breathless speed to the imagination of the bystanders, who, being

out your light," called the de

ed out into the street with his stable lanthorn. Signora Marta, shivering, with a huge shawl over her head, took up her position, lanthorn in hand, behind the Signor Conte, and the ramshackle old

ng man hitherto called Il Signor Conte-opened the door with his

Well! What news? Have you suc

he vehicle, "I don't know whether I can move. Misericordia! che viaggio! What a journey I have had. I am

five feet in diameter, began to move towards the door of the carriage, and gradually, by the hel

the same shrill tenor, making an attempt, as it spoke, to raise t

Signor Ercole?" asked t

the shrill voice with chattering teeth; "for I know I shall never

ou can say yes or no to the question, whether you ha

the importance that belonged to the news he had to tell to part with his secret so easily. "Signor Conte," he quavered out, "I tell you I am frozen! A man cannot speak on

ti-quattro! Per Dio! Do you think I ain't cold too? And the Mar

e can accomplish. When I have got thawed, I will endeavour to do my duty. Good night, Signor Conte!" said the little impresario,

ng that he was on the point of losing the gratification for the sake of which he had undergone the penance of standing sentinel in the cold for the last hour, and that his only hope was to bring forward les grands moyens,-"see now, the only thing to bring you round is a glass of hot punch. Now, wh

-of-an-hour after the news should be told to Signor Leandro Lombardoni it would be known to all Ravenna. Further, he was perfectly aware that, frozen or not frozen, he must wait that evening on the Marchese, of whom Signor Leandro had spoken-the Marchese Lamberto di Castelmare, in order to communicate to him the news which Signor Leandro was so anxious to hear; that not to do so would be as much as his standing and position in Ravenna were worth. And he would have preferred that the

. Well, then; listen in your ear. But you won't say a word about it till to-morrow morning. It is all right. The thin

t a word. Not a word. I run to order the pun

r at the cafe in the Piazza, on his way to the Cir

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