The key is in my trousers. . ’ Baring his teeth in a smile of triumph that was every bit an animal snarl, and leaping up onto the seat of the pew he was in, he jumped hazardously to the next. Too late. The Plague raced through the city and the Palazzo, consuming it like fire. As soon as the manacles were slipped over the prisoner's wrists, and the new padlock secured to the staple, they withdrew. That she was provoked by his interference was obvious. As it is not, however, our intention to furnish a complete catalogue of these curiosities, we shall merely mention that in front of them lay a large and sharp knife, once the property of the public executioner, and used by him to dissever the limbs of those condemned to death for high-treason; together with an immense two-pronged flesh-fork, likewise employed by the same terrible functionary to plunge the quarters of his victims in the caldrons of boiling tar and oil.
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