Tumbling over each other in their haste the five raced back, and ranged themselves in fighting order before the door, the only exit from the room.
In the dead silence that followed, the Ambassador and his satellites strained eye and ear, endeavouring to discover by sight or sound what Wilfrid’s next movement would be.
They had not long to wait.
From the far end of the apartment there suddenly darted intermittent rays of light, apparently caused by the wavering of a heavy curtain that draped one of the windows overlooking the canal. Simultaneously all were seized with the same idea. Wilfrid was going to—
Crash!
The sound was like that of a sheet of glass shivered to atoms by the impact of a heavy body, and was instantly followed by the splash of water.
“Good God! He’s leaped into the Fontanka, through glass and all,” cried the Ambassador.
Men falling into that shallow canal have been known never to rise again from its deep deposit of mud!
The Ambassador ran to the window, thrusting the heavy curtain on one side. Moved by a common impulse, the five men ran too.