The door was stout, and Messer Ramiro might take no violent means of bursting it, lest the noise should arouse the street--and I well could guess how little he would relish having lights to shine upon this deed of night of his.
With what tools his sbirro was at work I could not say; but surely they must be such as would leave me a few moments.

Already the fellow had begun.

I could make out a soft crunching sound, as of steel biting into wood.

To act, then! With movements swift as a cat's, and as silent, I went to work.

Like a ghost I glided round the coffin to the other side, where the lid was lying.