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Walpole, Hugh, Sir, 1884-1941

"The Secret City"

" We gathered
around the table, and soon every one was laughing and gambling.
Only once I looked up and saw that Markovitch was gazing at Vera; and
once again I looked at Vera and saw that she was staring before her,
seeing nothing, lost in some vision--but it was not of Markovitch that
she was thinking....
I was the first to leave--I said good-night to every one. I could hear
their laughter as I waited at the bottom of the stairs for the Dvornik
to let me out.
But when I was in the street the world was breathlessly still. I walked
up the Prospect--no soul was in sight, only the scattered lamps, the
pale snow, and the houses. At the end of the Canal I stopped. The
silence was intense.
It seemed to me then that in the very centre of the Canal the ice
suddenly cracked, slowly pulled apart, leaving a still pool of black
water. The water slowly stirred, rippled, then a long, horned, and scaly
head pushed up. I could see the shining scales on its thick side and the
ribbed horn on the back of the neck. Beneath it the water stirred and
heaved. With dead glazed eyes it stared upon the world, then slowly, as
though it were drawn from below, it sank.


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