Then life rose before him in a mystery for
him to solve by deeds, and he knew that he was not to dream out his
years in the shadowy city, and the strong old instinct of his race bade
him go forth and cut his fortune out of the world's flank alive. Then
his blood rose in his throat, and his hands hardened one upon the
other, as he leaned over the stone sill and drew the night air sharply
between his closed teeth; and he resolved then to leave Rome and to go
on in search of strange lands and masterful deeds. On such nights, when
the wind blew down the river in the spring, it brought to him all the
hosts of fancy, spirit armies, ghostly knights, and fairy maidens, and
the forecast shadows of things to come. There was a tragic note, also;
for on his right, as he looked, there rose the dark tower of Nona, and
from the highest turret he could clearly see in the moonlight how the
long rain-bleached rope hung down and swayed in the breeze, and the
noose at the end of it softly knocked upon the tower wall; more than
once, also, when he had looked out in the morning, he had seen a corpse
hanging there by the neck, stiff and staring and wet with dew.
But when the spring day dawned and the birds sang at his window, and
when, looking out, he felt the breath of the sweet south and saw that
Rome smiled again, then his resolutions failed, and instead of bidding
Dunstan pack his armour and his fine clothes for a journey, he made his
men mount and ride with him to the far regions of the city.
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