The Silver Devil Read Online Free PDF Page B

until this moment. Nor to Antonio, I guessed, or I should have been
swiftly ousted. But now I had only to throw the shutters wide and perch on the
narrow wooden sill and I would have a better view over the crowded Via Croce
than any down below.
    The
bolts were stubborn, and my fingertips were white with effort as I pushed at
them; then, with a sudden scrape, they slid back and I swung the shutters wide.
    Sunlight
flooded the stuffy little room, catching the dust motes so that they turned to
floating specks of gold in its shafts; the heat of the burnished blue sky was
reflected back from the peeling walls opposite, scorching me as I looked out
with a new sense of freedom.
    The
crowds below were being thrust out of the roadway by mounted spearmen, driven
back into gateways and under houses' eaves. The curses and threats of the
horsemen mingled with the protests of the victims, and presently the roadway yawned
white and empty while jostling masses of humanity pressed and sweated in the
shadows on either side. The crowds edged forward a little as the horsemen
passed, but no one was bold enough to step back into the road again.
    I
could see people clustered at every window the whole length of the Via
Croce—women in bright silks like clusters of flowers, chattering men, and bored
children. It was like a carnival, I thought, not like a sober ceremony of
thanksgiving at all, and I smiled at the strangeness of it. The lengthy time of
waiting was an enchantment to me; watching the street below, I forgot
everything else, even my own empty belly.
    At
the end of the Via Croce, surmounting its long steep slope, I could see the
Cathedral of San Domenico, its very stones seeming to tremble and swim in the
heat. The bells were beginning a jubilant carillon, and the sound welled down
the packed street and out over the city—drowning the cry of the gulls and the
clamor of the people in the din of the duke of Cabria's triumph.
    The
noise in the street was gradually growing louder. The soldiers moved up and
down, their voices hoarse against the sound of the bells, like sheepdogs with
an unruly pack, and still the merciless sun beat down on the dust-whitened
roadway.
    Something
bright was moving through the marketplace at the foot of the hill, and a shout
went up from those gathered there, spreading from mouth to mouth. The whole
street was shouting, waving, and cheering in an ecstasy of satisfied
impatience.
    I
craned dangerously over the sill as the head of the procession seemed to heave
itself painfully around and start down the Via Croce: a glittering dropsical
lizard, moving blindly to the music of drums and trumpets which fought with the
clangor of the bells. I did not know then that the courtiers moved so slowly to
let the commons see and gape; it looked as though each step must be the last as
the line came inching up the long, straight road.
    But
slowly, ponderously, it was coming nearer. The gleams of brightness on the
foremost rank showed as the sun on the armor of the palace guards. They marched
on foot, ignoring the dust and heat; then came the common soldiers, their eyes
searching the crowd for familiar faces, newly pressed some of them, enough to
glory in the city's welcome.
    Then,
as the first rank of mounted courtiers drew level, I heard the note of the
cheering change. It did not fall off—rather, it increased in volume—but there
was a jeering note in it, a blend of wonder and scorn that scraped roughly from
men's dusty throats. But for all the heed the nobles paid to the din, the
echoing street might have been an empty field; they might have come from
another world, of another kind, to those who had come to cheer them.
    From
above now the street was like a crowded hothouse, opulent reds and purples and
curdled greens spilling from the horses' backs like panniers of overripe fruit.
These creatures were fantastic, as brilliant and outrageous as the flowers that
blossom on carrion; I seemed to catch the scent of putrefaction as