Suddenly the musicians began to play and chant a solemn song, full of sadness and despair. Enraptured, enthralled, their blood cold in their bodies, the boys and the old professor listened to the most thrilling and impressive music that had ever greeted their ears. In fancy, Dick seemed to hear the tread of the condemned passing over the bloody bridge, the moans of the dying within those black walls. The air shuddered and vibrated with the horror of it.
Never as long as life lasted could any of that trio forget that chanted song.
When it ended at last, they seemed turned to stone themselves. It was several moments before one of them stirred or even seemed to breathe.
“Let’s get out of here!” Brad finally suggested, chokingly.
“Grand, but terrible!” muttered the professor.
“I would not have missed it for worlds!” declared Dick.
Reggio swung the gondola round, and they were soon moving toward the open canal.
Just as they passed out of the deeper darkness, a black gondola swept close to them—so close that the two boats almost touched.
An unseen person reached forth a ghostly hand from between divided black curtains, and something was tossed through the air, falling with a little clang at the feet of Reggio. It sounded not unlike the ring of money.
Then the phantom hand disappeared and the gondola slipped swiftly into the blackness from which they had just emerged, being lost to view.