“Why, noble Sir, of the bull-head,” I answered, “and right worthy Sir of the Squinting Orb, I intend to watch the coming forth of my Lord Adrian, an’ it please your lordships—and, as I wish to sleep, I will thank thee Balvardo to turn thy ugly visage another way, for, an’ I shut my eyes after looking at thee I’ll be certain to dream of half-a-dozen devils or so. Hugo do try and look straight ahead for only an instant, or the warriors in my dreams will all be cross-eyed—by St. Guiseppo!”
“‘Hist! thou magpie,’ exclaimed Hugo, ‘hear’st thou not a noise, Balvardo?’”
“The sound that rivetted Hugo’s ear, proceeded from the Doomed Cell, and was certainly the most curious of all sounds. It was not exactly like the mewing of a cat, neither did it altogether resemble the howling of a cur and it certainly did not sound like the bellowing of a bull, or the chattering of a magpie, yet in good sooth, it seemed as if all these noises had been caught and put in a sack, and having been shaken well together, produced the most infernal discord that ever saluted mortal ear.
“‘The Saints preserve us!’ shrieked Balvardo. ‘Surely the devil has taken possession of the murderer—hark how he howls!’
“‘He indeed!’ cried Hugo, ‘it’s not only he; by’r Lady, there’s a score of them. There it goes again. Beshrew thee but, ’tis like the howl of a whipped cur—’
“‘Nay Hugo, nay Hugo, ’tis like the spitting and mewing of an hundred cats.’
“‘Or the chattering of a score of magpies.’
“‘Now it bellows like a bull.’
“‘St. Peter be good to us!’ exclaimed Balvardo, as the howling grew louder and louder. ‘It is the yelling of devils, and naught else. Hark! Didst ever hear such a horrible noise, Sir Page?’
“I answered his question by repeated bursts of laughter; for although my heart was full heavy at the fate of Adrian Di Albarone, yet for my soul I could not hear such whimsical sounds without giving full rein to my laughing humor.