shuttered; and, indeed, the thoroughfare looked like a street of the
dead, the deserted appearance enhanced, rather than relieved, by the
white moonlight lying on its cobble-stones.

Nearing the bridge, he discovered one stout door ajar, and behind it
shone the yellow glow of a lamp. He paused, and examined critically the
façade of the house, which, with its quiet, dignified architectural
beauty, seemed the abode of wealth. Although the shutters were closed,
his intent inspection showed him thin shafts of light from the chinks,
and he surmised that an assemblage of some sort was in progress,
probably a secret convention, the members of which entered unannounced,
and left the door ajar ready for the next comer.

For a moment he thought of venturing in, but remembering his mission
required the convincing of one man rather than the persuasion of a
group, he forbore, but noted in his mind the position and designation of
the house, resolving to select this building as the theater of his first
effort, and return to it next morning. It would serve his purpose as
well as another.

Roland's attention was then suddenly directed to his own position,
standing in the bright moonlight, for there swung round from the river
road, into the Fahrgasse, a small and silent company, who marched as one
man. The moon was shining almost directly up the street, but the houses
to the west stood in its radiance, while those in the east were still in
shadow. Roland pressed himself back against the darkened wall to his
left, near the partially opened door; between it and the river. The
silent procession advanced to the door ajar, and there paused, forming
their ranks into two lines, thus making a passage for a tall,
fine-looking, bearded man, who walked to the threshold, then turned and