One delirious moment their lips met. They remained locked in tight embrace, lip to lip, heart to heart.
There was a brief breathless silence.
Suddenly the great bell of the Capitol rolled in solemn and majestic sounds upon the air, and was answered from all the belfries of Rome. But louder than the pealing tocsin, above the wild screaming and clanging of the bells rose the piercing cry:
"Death to the Saxon! Death to the King!"
They both raised their heads and listened. With wild-eyed wonder Otto gazed into Stephania's eyes. The marble statues around them were hardly as white as her features.
"What is this?" he questioned.
There was a stir in the depths of the streets below. Shouts and jeers of strident voices were broken by authoritative commands. The tramp of mailed feet was remotely audible, but above all the hubbub and din rose the cry:
"Death to the Saxon! Death to the King!"
When the first peals of the great bell quivered on the silent night air, Stephania had, with a low wail, encircled Otto's head with her arms, pressed him closely to her, as if to shield him from harm. Then, as louder and wilder the iron tongues shrieked defiance through the air, as, turning her head, she saw the fatal spear points of the Albanians gleaming through the thicket, she suddenly shook him off. With a stifled outcry, she rose to her feet; so abruptly that Otto staggered and would have fallen, had he not in time caught himself with the aid of a branch.
To the King it gave the impression of a wild hideous dream. Like one dazed, he stared first at the woman, then down the declivity.