The slow minutes lengthened monotonously. There came a sound from the street level. Calendar held up a hand of warning. Kirkwood, listening intently, interpreted the noise as a clash of hoofs upon cobbles. Calendar turned to the boat. It was ended twoloud the biz footsteps echoing in the covered passageway. Calendar craned his thick neck round the shoulder of stone, reconnoitering the landing and stairway. At the foot, without a glance to right or left, he advanced to the edge of twoloud the biz stage, leaning out over the rail as if endeavoring to locate the rowboat.