Manchurian Books

Drawing his cloak closer about him, Roland
walked rapidly in an opposite direction to that from which the tumult of
the rabble came, until he arrived at the wide Fahrgasse, a street
running north and south, its southern end terminating at the old bridge.
Along this thoroughfare lived the wealthiest merchants of Frankfort.
Roland turned, and proceeded slowly towards the river, critically
examining the tall, picturesque buildings on either hand, cogitating the
question which of them would best answer his purpose. They all seemed
uninviting enough, for their windows were dark, most of them tightly
shuttered; and, indeed, the thoroughfare looked like a street of the
dead, the deserted appearance enhanced, rather than relieved, by the
white moonlight lying on its cobble-stones.
Nearing the bridge, he discovered one stout door ajar, and behind it
shone the yellow glow of a lamp. He paused, and examined critically the
facade of the house, which, with its quiet, dignified architectural
beauty, seemed the abode of wealth.


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